Dad is Back From a Deserted Island - Chapter 52

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Father has returned from the Deserted Island
Chapter 52

The Manager arrived the next day with the completed piece, but he was not alone.
Emil stood beside him, his face ashen with exhaustion, dark circles beneath his eyes betraying a night spent laboring without rest.
‘Did he drag someone here against their will?’
That was my first impression.
Yet Emil had come to House of Lamber of his own volition.
“Th-the Goose… recovered so much energy in just one day… Thank you so very much…”
He had come specifically to offer this gratitude in person.
Vivian felt a warm sense of pride at learning that a suffering creature had regained its vitality because of her, and she graciously accepted his thanks.
“This fellow knows gratitude well—he’s created his masterpiece yet, the finest work of his career.”
The Manager presented the piece to Jean de Lamber and Vivian with unmistakable confidence.
“Oh my…!”
The moment the crimson velvet box’s lid opened, the radiance that spilled forth was nearly blinding.
A diamond larger than a thumb gleamed at the center, its exquisite faceting refracting light from every angle, casting a soft glow across the silk lining within the box.
Smaller diamonds clustered densely around it, forming constellations, while the golden filigree beneath them wove together in graceful, flowing curves.
“The word ‘masterpiece’ hardly does it justice.”
Jean de Lamber ran his fingers across the necklace with satisfaction, then asked Vivian if she would like to try it on.
“Yes, I’d love to. Won’t it be too heavy with such a large stone?”
Vivian teased as she lifted her long hair and offered her neck to her father. Jean de Lamber’s eyes glistened with emotion as he carefully fastened the necklace around his daughter’s throat.
“How does it look? Does it suit me? Is it alright?”
Vivian turned from Jean de Lamber to pose the same question to the Manager and Emil.
“Oh, it’s absolutely beautiful—more than beautiful. This necklace was made for the Young Lady, or rather, that’s exactly right. In any case, it suits you perfectly, truly.”
The Manager poured forth sincere praise, while Emil beside him nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
No craftsman could fail to be satisfied seeing his masterwork find its rightful owner. Color bloomed across his pallid cheeks.
Yet the most satisfied person in the room was undoubtedly Jean de Lamber.
‘A sapphire to match Vivian’s blue eyes would have been acceptable. But I was right to choose diamond.’
He wanted to proclaim it to the world.
That this child was the daughter of the continent’s greatest diamond mine owner.
A warning, too.
So that no one would dare disrespect her.
Already, no noble in the realm was ignorant of the House of Lamber. After the kidnapping incident, Jean de Lamber had clawed his way upward through relentless effort, elevating that name to prominence.
Yet in the insular world of nobility, they remained mere intruders—rising nouveau riche, nothing more.
They lacked the generational connections that bound noble families together. Jean de Lamber had already learned from Eduard how society treated such outsiders.
He would not allow his beloved Vivian to suffer such indignity. His goal was to ensure that no one could ever look down upon her.
Eight years ago, after the kidnapping incident, I never wanted to feel that emotion again.

* * *

The day of my petit débutante ball.
For the first time in my life, I was having makeup applied to my face. The brush tickling my skin felt unfamiliar, and each time something new was applied, my reflection in the mirror seemed like a stranger’s.
“There! Now we’re truly finished, Young Lady. Just the lips left!”
“You said it was done an hour ago—”
Vivian, who hadn’t even eaten lunch, was already exhausted before we’d even left for the ballroom.
“This time it’s really true. Really. Truly finished. There’s nothing left to do!”
Anne, who had honed her skills specifically for today, poured her heart into adding color to Vivian’s lips.
Like breathing the final soul into a painting, she added a rosy hue and withdrew her brush.
The result was.
“Our Young Lady is already the most beloved person in the world, but today even the angels will fall for you!”
Everyone nodded in agreement with such an embarrassing compliment—it was that perfect.
Since I was still young, they’d avoided overly heavy makeup.
Just enough color to bring out a natural vitality.
The sharp angle of the eyelashes that made my feline eyes even more striking was a technique Anne had perfected through countless burns.
The dress was crafted from fabric so pale it appeared white, embroidered with delicate and ornate patterns in the softest sky blue. The diamond jewelry adorning my neck and ears was dazzlingly brilliant, yet my face drew even more attention than the gems.
“Young Lady, walk this way, this way! Eyes slightly downcast, with an air of dignity!”
“Dignity?”
For someone who had never carried herself with such aloofness, it was a difficult request.
But as I called to mind Elise’s bearing and demonstrated an elegant gait, Anne and the other maids squealed with delight.
“What should we do? All the men there will surely fall for the Young Lady!”
“Suitors will come flooding in like a tidal wave. We must steel ourselves!”
“Suitors? Since you haven’t had your official débutante ball yet, they can’t formally propose…but those seeking to court you or build connections are essentially the same thing, aren’t they?”
The maids suddenly burned with enthusiasm. Vivian simply laughed and watched them.
Courtship, marriage—certainly, once tonight arrived, I would take another step into that world, but it still didn’t feel real.
[Hmm. It’s worth seeing, I’ll admit.]
Kiki, who despised noisy humans, surprisingly hadn’t threatened or chased away these maids.
“Hehe. Am I pretty? Not bad, right?”
[If you’re the one I serve, you should be at least this presentable.]
Coming from Kiki, who rarely gave praise, this was the highest compliment. I felt more confident than I had from any other compliment.
Anne, who had been admiring Vivian for some time, checked the time and gasped in alarm.
“Oh! It’s time for you to go downstairs now. He must be waiting below.”
[Have a good time.]
“Kiki. Don’t cry while I’m gone, okay? Be good.”
[Meow!]
Vivian giggled and waved at Kiki.
Kiki would not be attending tonight’s petit débutante ball.
There was no way I could bring a baby monkey to the Ballroom, after all. Even if Kiki transformed into a different animal, it would be the same.
Vivian, who had gone everywhere with Kiki, felt a hollow ache in her chest as she walked briskly down the Corridor, clenching her fists with forced determination.
The moment I appeared at the Stairs leading downward.
“Oh, my princess!”
Jean de Lamber, who had been waiting for Vivian with longing eyes from below, burst into tears.
“Oh my, Father!”
Vivian descended the Stairs quickly, breaking into laughter.
Because Jean de Lamber was more nervous about attending the debutante ball than Vivian herself, she could remain calm.
I boarded the carriage while reproaching Father for shedding tears as he looked at me.
We rushed toward the Imperial Palace, glittering with distant lights.
“Father, don’t be like that! I can do well. I’ve practiced dancing hard, memorized the names of the great houses, and studied etiquette diligently.”
“Vivian, when you say such wonderful things, Father—”
“There you go again, about to cry! I told you to stop!”
By the time I finished soothing Jean de Lamber in the carriage, we had already arrived at the Imperial Palace. After the Guard confirmed our credentials and we passed through the City Gate, the carriage slowed its pace and moved leisurely toward the entrance of the Ballroom.
“No matter whom you meet or where you are, don’t forget that Father is behind you, Vivian.”
Jean de Lamber, who stepped out of the carriage first, wore a composed expression as if he had never shed a tear, offering his final encouragement to his daughter embarking on a new beginning.
At his steadfast presence, Vivian swept away even the slightest tremor she had harbored in her heart.
I was no longer the seven-year-old girl who had waited in the Attic Room, weeping for Father to return, and Father stood behind me like a sturdy tree, protecting me.
“Shall we go then?”
“Yes!”
Grasping Jean de Lamber’s hand as I stepped into the Ballroom, my heart swelled with anticipation.
Unaware of what would unfold in that place.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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