Dad is Back From a Deserted Island - Chapter 64

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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 64

The Demon sat leaning against the window frame.
Clad in nothing but a thin shirt, his gaunt frame was starkly visible—so emaciated that without his naturally commanding bone structure, he would have appeared almost frail.
Yet his appearance was undeniably striking.
“Oh….”
He possessed a beauty that was positively demonic. Or perhaps he truly was a demon?
Even in this darkness, his snow-white hair seemed to shimmer. Each time those luxuriously long locks swayed, they scattered light like fragments of starlight.
I understood at once why people called him a demon.
His features suggested an age somewhere between boyhood and young manhood, yet his unreadable expression made it impossible to gauge his true years.
Though I was meeting him for the first time, something about him felt strangely familiar.
Apart from Jean de Lamber, I knew only one other person whose beauty could inspire such admiration.
That child had possessed hair as black as pitch, though.
Without thinking, I found myself speaking the boy’s name aloud.
“Diti…?”
Gasping at my own words, I quickly covered my mouth and bowed deeply.
“I—I’m terribly sorry. You simply resemble someone I know.”
How reckless of me to presume familiarity with a stranger.
From what I’d heard in rumors and from the Castle Steward, his temperament was decidedly unpleasant, to say the least.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could strike myself for my careless tongue.
“There’s no need to apologize.”
“I—I beg your pardon?”
His response was far more reasonable and gracious than I’d anticipated. Without meaning to, I lifted my head with a bewildered expression to study his face.
I had braced myself for contemptuous disdain.
But his gaze held no coldness, no scorn whatsoever. Instead, his eyes radiated warmth.
He even wore the faintest hint of a smile.
Caught off guard by this unexpected kindness, I found myself at a loss for words. He spoke first.
“What brings you to a place like this?”
“I hadn’t heard that we were expecting a guest.”
“Did you arrive today?”
‘So he does speak, contrary to what I was told?’
Unlike the Castle Steward’s account, The Demon was remarkably talkative. Despite my silence, he pressed on without hesitation.
‘He said I wouldn’t even remember his voice.’
Yet his voice was too beautiful to forget. Though his tone was cool, his manner of speaking was gentle, and emboldened, I carefully straightened myself.
“I—I am Vivian de Lamber. I’ve come seeking your assistance with a matter of some urgency. I must apologize for my intrusion without invitation and for wandering through your home uninvited.”
I found myself naturally adopting a respectful tone. Though I knew neither The Demon’s name nor family name, his bearing was that of one who had never needed to look up to another soul in his entire life.
Moreover, regardless of how neglected and shabby the Castle might be, such a fortress was not something anyone could possess. Even if House of Lamber had risen to a different station than before, I could not help but exercise caution.
“I told you there’s no need to apologize. So what is this business you mentioned?”
The Demon approached naturally, yet he was so tall that Vivian had to crane her neck considerably just to look up at him.
Though Vivian still harbored trauma from men larger than herself approaching suddenly, for some reason his approach did not frighten her.
After all, his demeanor radiated unmistakable delight at seeing her, leaving no reason to fear.
‘He’s so happy to see me. Was he terribly lonely being alone here? Perhaps everyone’s fear of him, their avoidance and silence, truly weighed upon his heart.’
The thought stirred a pang of sympathy for the man before her.
In any case, encouraged by his unexpectedly welcoming attitude, I was about to broach the subject of Kiki when The Demon suddenly began to cough.
“Are you alright?”
“Ah, this.”
Vivid crimson blood trickled through the gaps between The Demon’s fingers as he covered his mouth.

* * *

“Father! Father!”
Jean de Lamber, who had fallen into what seemed like an enchanted sleep the moment he entered his bedroom after eating, barely stirred at Vivian’s desperate voice.
The trembling Vivian shook his body frantically.
The moment Jean de Lamber’s eyes caught the bloodstains smeared across her shoulder, sleep vanished entirely and he bolted upright.
“What is this, Vivian? Blood, why is there blood—!”
“Father, help me. The blood, he suddenly couldn’t stop the blood—”
Fortunately, the blood did not appear to be Vivian’s own, though she seemed too distraught to explain the situation properly.
Jean de Lamber, still in his nightclothes and unable to dress properly, was pulled from the bedroom by Vivian’s hand.
As they entered the Building where The Demon was staying and climbed the Stairs, they found a figure lying on the floor.
Jean de Lamber recognized him instantly.
‘The Emperor?’
Though the face was considerably younger than Jean de Lamber remembered, it was unmistakably Dietrich Gedeon Kozenmark, the future Emperor.
‘Why has his hair turned white? Is this his natural color?’
Yet such a face could not exist twice in this world, regardless of the hair color.
Vivian’s cloak draped over Dietrich’s body. Even considering Dietrich’s lean frame, he was still considerably taller than Vivian, making it impossible to move him elsewhere.
“What on earth has happened here? No, this is not the time for questions.”
Jean de Lamber approached immediately to assess Dietrich’s condition.
Though he possessed no great medical knowledge, he could at least check the pulse. Dietrich’s pulse was so faint it seemed his breath might cease at any moment. His pallid, bloodless skin only reinforced this impression.
“We must move him to a warm place first. Do you know where his bedroom is?”
Vivian, who had been shifting anxiously from foot to foot, shook her head.
“I checked his room, but there’s no wood in the fireplace, and there’s nothing to warm him with, Father. I think it would be better to move him to our bedroom. But I couldn’t move him alone, and what if he—what if he dies?”
“It will be alright, so calm yourself. Vivian.”
Dietrich would not die here.
He was destined to become Emperor in the future.
Reassured by the certainty in his voice, Vivian regained some measure of composure.
With Vivian’s assistance, Jean de Lamber hoisted Dietrich Gedeon Kozenmark onto his back and was startled by how light he was.
‘At this rate, there’s barely anything but bones left.’
The cool temperature of his body felt less like carrying a living human and more like bearing a wax figure. Jean’s pace quickened with urgency.
“Vivian, go wake the Castle Steward. He mentioned his health was never good, so ask if there are any medicines he’s been taking. We’ll need some warm water as well.”
Once Jean brought Dietrich Gedeon Kozenmark to the Bedroom, he laid him not on the bed but on the sofa—positioning his ice-cold body as close as possible to the warmth radiating from the fireplace.
The Castle Steward who came running at Vivian’s call still seemed bewildered, his expression blank as he struggled to comprehend the situation.
“What on earth is happening…? Why is this person here?”
“He suddenly began coughing blood and collapsed while we were talking. That Building had its fireplace extinguished, so I brought him here in haste, but… why isn’t there even proper firewood stocked in the space where the master resides?”
The medicine the Castle Steward brought was not a prescribed medication but rather a common remedy people kept on hand—something to restore one’s vigor.
“There’s no other medicine he takes regularly? What about his personal physician?”
“No doctor will come to this Castle…. And I was told he doesn’t have an illness; his body is simply weak.”
“What!”
Jean nearly blurted out that the Emperor couldn’t possibly have a weak constitution, but he caught himself and sealed his lips.
He cast the Castle Steward a questioning glance, but with his master collapsed, he couldn’t afford to dwell on other matters for long. As the Castle Steward’s gaze shifted away, Jean barely managed to conceal his turbulent thoughts.
‘The Emperor certainly possessed a robust physique…. Otherwise, a prince with no power base could never have slain the previous Emperor and seized the throne.’
He had heard that no one dared defy the inhuman Emperor who had murdered his own father to claim the imperial seat.
If that were true, he should have been healthy even as a prince—yet here he was, so frail he collapsed while coughing blood.
‘What in the world has happened to him?’

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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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