Dad is Back From a Deserted Island - Chapter 53

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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 53

Every eye in the Ballroom turned toward the entrance. When acquaintances appeared, polite greetings were exchanged and conversations began, yet they remained superficial at best.
Eager gazes darted about, assessing who had arrived and what manner of person they were.
It was only natural—this was where the social debuts of young people just beginning their place in society commenced.
And there, as the doors opened, Jean de Lamber and Vivian made their entrance—
‘A father and daughter?’
‘Where is his wife?’
‘A family that couldn’t even secure a proper chaperone… or so it would seem.’
Typically, a noblewoman would accompany a young debutante to such an affair. If the mother had passed early, a relative would serve, or else a woman of considerable standing would be engaged as chaperone.
While fathers did occasionally attend, it was rare.
At first, some wondered if the family was in straitened circumstances, but the fabrics and adornments worn by both quickly dispelled that notion—they were unmistakably costly.
As Jean de Lamber and Vivian drew closer, their features becoming clearer, the assembled guests held their breath.
‘Which house do they belong to?’
‘I’ve never seen them before.’
‘Yet there’s something oddly familiar about them.’
Though Jean de Lamber had attended various social gatherings, the attendees were predominantly male. The vast majority of noblewomen present were seeing his face for the first time.
“Could he be… an older brother, rather than a father?”
The arrival of a youth—or rather, a man of considerable years, though possessing an almost ethereal beauty—who could scarcely be mistaken for the father of a teenage daughter, sent a ripple through the assembly of noblewomen and young girls alike.
The young boys present were utterly transfixed by the sight of Vivian, escorted gracefully on Jean de Lamber’s arm.
Her lovely rose-colored hair fell in soft waves across her shoulders, while the upper portion was delicately pinned to frame her radiant face. When she offered the assembled strangers a bashful smile—
—the hearts of countless youths ignited in an instant.
Jean de Lamber perceived it all with acute sensitivity. Dare they! These wretches casting covetous glances upon his princess—his mood soured in a heartbeat.
The Petit Débutante was an affair for the young alone.
Adults could not intrude upon it.
“Vivian.”
“Yes, Father. Don’t worry, all right?”
Hearing the emotion threaded through his voice as he spoke her name, Vivian smiled knowingly and released him to depart.
‘Whew! All right then. Shall we begin!’
She had thought herself unafraid, yet now that her feet had crossed the threshold of the Imperial Palace, her heart began to race.
A strange surge of energy coursed through her. Vivian steeled herself with renewed resolve.
She knew well how much effort Father had expended to bring her to this moment. He ate while reviewing documents, sacrificed sleep, yet never diminished the time spent with her.
She could not bear to disappoint him.
‘Not a single familiar face. I knew it would be so, but it’s still a shame.’
Though Vivian had naturally encountered many people through her growing closeness with Eduard, every child present at the Petit Débutante was a complete stranger.
‘That’s exactly why Elise was so worried.’
Eduard represented the rising noble faction—a family that had purchased their noble title with money in his grandfather’s generation and integrated themselves into this world.
Among the children who had mingled together, there wasn’t a complete absence of friends Vivian’s age, but that child’s family lacked the influence to warrant an invitation to such an occasion.
Ultimately, most of the people present were descendants of venerable families passed down through generations—those brimming with pride in possessing blue blood.
‘But I can’t be intimidated! If I were, Kiki would unleash an absolutely relentless barrage of nagging.’
Yet Vivian remained unbowed. After eight years of receiving Jean’s boundless support and affection, her self-esteem could not be easily shaken.
“It’s an honor to meet you. Young Lady. I am Theodore, the third son of the Vallière Family.”
The most courageous boy approached her first—a youth with brown hair and a spirited demeanor.
“It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Vivian of the Lamber Family.”
By now, the name Lamber was no longer unfamiliar to these people. Everyone had heard it at least once.
That diamond mine owner?
If it’s Lamber, I’ve heard they have deep connections with the Valmont Family—
A few shrewd children recalled this fact first.
But the majority displayed genuine affection first.
Vivian, with her feline upturned eyes, might have seemed difficult to approach at first glance, yet her lips curved in an endless, gentle smile that radiated an irresistible charm that made everyone want to speak with her.
The boy who introduced himself as Theodore was blushing shyly.
Unfortunately, Vivian felt no particular stirring upon seeing Theodore like that.
She merely thought: how kind of him to speak first!—that was all the impression that remained.
There was no need for Elise to instruct her to report every boy who approached; after all, you need two hands clapping to make a sound.
“Ah, then the gentleman accompanying you must be Lord Lamber?”
“Yes. He’s my father.”
At the word “father,” the young ladies stirred. Some even expressed regret, as if they had fallen in love in that instant.
“If he were an older brother with a significant age gap, that would be one thing, but a father…”
“With that face, I think I could even become a stepmother.”
Close friends exchanged such mischievous jests among themselves.
Beautiful appearance.
Overwhelming wealth.
Even connections with great merchants.
Having become the center of attention in an instant, Vivian was frantically busy exchanging greetings with those who approached her.
“Miss Lamber. Where did you have that dress made? It’s absolutely beautiful—”
“The necklace! I’m curious who the craftsman was who made it.”
“My sister is hosting a tea party this time. Would you consider visiting?”
Being still young children, the atmosphere heated up quickly, unlike the adults who maintained composure with formal coughs.
Since no dukes or marquises were attending this petit débutante, everyone felt less pressure to be cautious.
Just as Vivian’s instantaneous memory began to show its limits.
An announcement that all guests had arrived was followed by the prelude to a dance melody.
At the petit débutante, all dances proceeded as group formations. Each piece had a predetermined formation.
“Phew.”
Finally able to breathe, Vivian took her position according to the formation. The boys on one side, the girls on this side.
Standing face to face with those she had just been conversing with, she could hear stifled giggles breaking out here and there.
‘How strange—this exhilarating feeling. My entire body is brimming with energy!’
When Vivian’s gaze met that of the girl standing beside her, she could not suppress the laughter that bubbled forth.
As the music progressed, the children stepped back from one another in unison.
Then, once more, they glided forward lightly in perfect time with the prescribed rhythm.
With each brush of Vivian’s feet against the floor, her skirts blossomed like flowers.
A fairy-like dance performed with the beautiful countenance of an angel.
As her body moved, diamonds sparkled like stars.
Someone who had lingered at the periphery, unwilling to join the throng, found themselves murmuring without thought.
“It’s as though a fairy is dancing.”
Not a soul dared to contradict those words.
Among the girls who had taken such pains to adorn themselves for their first foray into society, Vivian stood out unmistakably.
Who could possibly glimpse her now and suspect the past when she had survived on a single piece of black bread each day?
Hands that had grown raw and aching from dishwashing and laundry, stinging at the mere touch of water, were now wrapped in soft silk.
Those blue eyes that had dimmed day by day beneath torrents of abuse and cruelty now shone with joy and vitality.
This was undoubtedly the greatest transformation Jean de Lamber’s return had wrought.
As Jean de Lamber gazed upon Vivian with such radiant affection, his thoughts suddenly drifted back to that moment when he had awakened on the Deserted Island, time having turned back.
After weeping until his throat was utterly raw, he had not rested for a single moment.
His first task was felling trees to construct a raft sturdy enough to endure the distant sea.
It took days merely to find stones of suitable size and sharpen the wood’s edge enough to fell more timber.
He had fought with troops of monkeys over fruit, and there were days when birds stole his provisions, leaving him to starve.
There was even a time when the raft he had barely completed capsized, nearly drowning him.
The supplies he had brought were soaked through in that disaster, and he faced the specter of starvation upon the open sea.
Yet all that suffering seemed utterly insignificant in the face of this transformation.
“….”
Jean de Lamber could not simply observe this from afar with quiet contentment.

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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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