Dad is Back From a Deserted Island - Chapter 54

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

Father has returned from the Deserted Island
Chapter 54

For the nobility, marriage was ultimately a covenant between families.
Countless couples bound themselves in matrimony and lived together despite harboring no affection whatsoever for one another.
Luca and Elise were the exception. Even Eduard, Luca’s father, had entered into a marriage of convenience.
There was no necessity to remain shackled by loveless matrimony for a lifetime.
Once a lady of the house fulfilled her duty of producing an heir, she was granted her freedom.
In a society where a momentary indiscretion drew no censure, a handsome man like Jean de Lamber was a prize fallen into their midst.
“It is truly admirable how you have raised your daughter so splendidly without a wife. Might you find time for us? I should very much like to hear your thoughts.”
Jean de Lamber found himself profoundly uncomfortable amid the noblewomen casting their subtle advances in his direction.
Once they discovered that the position of mistress of the house lay vacant, some began to praise his daughter—fortunately, she was not among the debutantes making their formal debut, which meant she was Vivian’s age—and cautiously tested the waters.
For Jean de Lamber, who harbored not the slightest inclination to see any woman save his departed wife, the situation was nothing short of exasperating.
“Should you extend an invitation, I would be delighted to attend. With my daughter, naturally.”
“I intend to remain in the Capital for some time.”
“For dance instruction, I have engaged Madame Rochefort. My daughter maintains a close friendship with Clement, and she was quite insistent upon studying under the same instructor.”
“Ah, yes. I have heard the news of her engagement to Valmont. A most auspicious occasion indeed.”
Yet eight years of cultivation within society’s circles had honed my conversational prowess, and I navigated the discourse with practiced ease.
I maintained a natural distance from those women who approached with cloying intent, forever suggesting we step onto the Terrace or take a turn about the Garden, while drawing closer to those who genuinely wished to discuss matters of child-rearing or forge meaningful connections.
“To my eyes, she remains but a child, and yet to see her dancing here fills me with the strangest sensation.”
“…I understand entirely. No matter how they grow, children remain children in their parents’ hearts.”
Watching Vivian, her face flushed crimson from the vigor of her dancing, I felt my eyes grow inexplicably warm.
“….”
There was one present who observed my countenance with particular attention. An elderly noblewoman alternated her gaze between me and Vivian, dancing at a distance.
‘The father and daughter share an identical air, yet their features differ considerably. The father’s eyes are gentle and serene, while the daughter’s are bright and spirited….’
The noblewoman, drawing upon distant memories, posed a question.
“Count de Lamber. Forgive the impertinence, but… does Vivian perhaps resemble someone else in your family?”
“I beg your pardon?”
It was an unexpected inquiry—to suddenly ask whom my daughter resembled.
Yet the noblewoman was both the eldest present and held the highest station.
No one dared point out her rudeness; all eyes turned to gauge my reaction.
“Count de Lamber!”
Suddenly, commotion erupted, and a young girl hurriedly sought me out.
Sensing from the abrupt shift in atmosphere that something grave had occurred, I excused myself and immediately withdrew.
“What has happened?”
“C-Count de Lamber! Vivian suddenly…!”
At the mention of Vivian’s name, Jean rushed to find her.
But Vivian was nowhere to be seen. She had been shining at the center of the crowd just moments before.
Yet Jean did not hesitate, heading straight toward one location.
Where all the children who had been dancing joyfully had stopped and gathered around.
A dreadful premonition told me that Vivian was there.
Jean pushed through the crowd of children and called out Vivian’s name.
“Vivian!”
“L-Lord Jean. Miss Vivian suddenly stumbled, and now she’s breathing so heavily-”
The boy hurriedly explained the situation upon seeing Jean’s face, but Jean heard nothing.
Vivian remained seated, unable to rise despite the support of a girl beside her, one hand pressed to her chest as she gasped for breath.
The moment Jean saw her, a sharp ringing filled his ears.
Still, feigning composure as best he could, Jean dropped to his knees before Vivian.
“Vivian! What is this, what’s happening? Can’t you breathe?”
“…F-Father.”
Upon seeing Jean kneeling before her, Vivian broke free from the girl’s embrace and collapsed into his arms.
“The doctor, we need to call the doctor—no, I will!”
Jean quickly lifted his daughter into his trembling arms.
“Lord Jean! A servant has already run to fetch the doctor, please calm—”
Beyond the young children, servants and noblewomen who had noticed the commotion were rushing over, but their faces barely registered in my mind.
I had to find the doctor immediately, had to save Vivian, had to—
“No, no. No.”
Jean muttered the word like a madman possessed.
It wasn’t yet. Before the regression, he had heard that Vivian passed away only after reaching adulthood. It happened after she turned at least eighteen, so there were still three years left—
The image of a desolate grave with no headstone suddenly surfaced in his mind.
A mere mound too humble to even be called a grave.
Himself, unable to shed even a single tear back then.
What pulled Jean from the abyss of that terrible past was a weak hand grasping his arm.
“Father.”
Vivian’s eyes fluttered open weakly, looking at him.
“H-home… take me home, I don’t… like this place.”
As if even forming words was a struggle, Vivian spoke in fragments before losing consciousness entirely.
“Y-yes, Vivian. Let’s go home. Father will take you.”
Jean rose unsteadily and walked away, and no one stopped him. Rather, they could not.
The aura of the man, who had seemed so gentle until now, had become too ominous to touch.
By the time the servant returned with the doctor, the patient was already gone from the Ballroom.
Only murmuring crowds remained.

* * *

The Lamber Mansion in the Capital.
The mansion, which had been quiet with its masters away, erupted into chaos in an instant. Their mistress, who had departed for the ball with a cheerful expression, had returned in a state of unconsciousness.
“Kyaaaah! Young Lady!”
“I shall summon the doctor at once!”
Vivian’s condition was clearly dire. Her face flushed crimson, beaded with perspiration, and even from a distance, one could feel the scorching heat radiating from her body.
Every scrap of ice in the mansion was brought forth and fashioned into ice packs in an attempt to cool her fever, yet rather than subsiding, the ice merely melted into water.
Though none could identify the illness, all understood that a person should never burn with such intensity.
As Anne drew the curtains around the bed and wiped Vivian’s body with cloths dampened in cool water, Jean, sitting with his back turned, discovered a tuft of black fur buried among the dolls.
“….”
From within, Jean retrieved the young monkey, blissfully unaware of the commotion and sleeping as soundly as honey.
“Kiki.”
“…Eek? Screech!”
The moment Kiki’s eyes fluttered open from sleep, she let out a startled cry at the sight of Jean’s grim visage.
Of course, Jean paid her no mind. Though he had always treated Kiki with the utmost care, now that Vivian had collapsed, nothing else existed in his eyes.
“Vivian lost consciousness and collapsed at the Imperial Palace. There was no warning whatsoever. She showed no signs of illness, ate nothing strange. …You were at the Imperial Palace, were you not? Is there anything you know?”

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