Dad is Back From a Deserted Island - Chapter 68

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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 68

The weather was so warm it seemed a lie that snow had fallen just days before.
Since arriving in Norvalang, this was the first time my breath didn’t mist white when I exhaled.
Gentle sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating Dietrich’s translucent face.
Even a sculpture carved from precious gems could not gleam as brilliantly.
After offering a brief admiration, Vivian stretched her stiff body, having been cooped up inside for so long.
“Good morning, Your Highness. How are you feeling today?”
“Fine.”
The warmth seemed to have brought out Dietrich’s best complexion yet. A relief.
“And Kiki… there was nothing unusual last night?”
“Still the same.”
Kiki remained curled up asleep on Dietrich’s lap, unchanged from yesterday.
Vivian’s expression darkened for a moment, but she quickly shifted it. Dietrich stared intently at her forced smile.
“If it could be resolved in just a few days, Kiki wouldn’t have been sleeping for over a month! Well, what would you like to do today? I’ve told you all my stories over these past few days, so there’s nothing left to share…”
Vivian had truly chirped away like a canary the entire time.
Though Dietrich had interjected here and there, it was entirely with questions directed at Vivian. She’d even lost her voice the next day from talking so much.
Having exhausted her stories in just two days, Vivian pondered thoughtfully and opened the window for fresh air. Watching the curtains flutter in the warm breeze, a memory from the past suddenly surfaced.

When spring arrived after the cold winter passed, Jean de Lamber would always take Vivian on a picnic.
Once at a lake famous for its beautiful scenery, Kiki had slipped while climbing a tree with a sandwich and fallen into the water.

‘Kiki! Are you all right?’
‘Ahahaha, Kiki fell in the water! You fell in~’
[Kyaaaah! Not only won’t you jump in to save me, but you’re laughing at me?!]

Standing by the water’s edge and laughing at Kiki, Vivian was suddenly pulled in by an indignant Kiki and splashed into the water herself.

‘Vivian!’

Just before Jean de Lamber, pale with shock, could leap in, Vivian surfaced, perched atop a turtle’s shell.

‘Ptooey! I swallowed water! Kiki! You’re terrible!’
[Tsk tsk. And who was laughing at whom?]

Before I could even resent being dropped into the water, Kiki—transformed into a turtle with me clinging to her back—began cutting through the lake’s surface and surging forward.

‘Wow! Father! Father, look at me! I’m riding a turtle! I’m swimming on a turtle!’
[You are not swimming, Vivian. I am the one doing the swimming.]
‘Hmph! Kiki, I’ll forgive you for dropping me in this time! Oh, there, let’s go there!’
[Do not give me orders! …Where exactly are we going?]

Vivian gazed at the sleeping Kiki, recalling those joyful memories, and offered a bittersweet smile. Then she shook her head gently, casting off the sorrow.
“The weather is lovely. How about a picnic?”
“A picnic?”
“Yes. Venturing outside the Castle would be difficult, but…I noticed the Garden inside the Castle is quite spacious, isn’t it? I think it would be fine if we dress warmly and go out.”
Dietrich merely blinked several times.
“Ah, if you’d rather not, we don’t have to go! Please, speak freely.”
“No, it’s not that I dislike it. I simply don’t know exactly what a picnic entails.”
The realization struck me—how could a sickly prince with no friends have ever experienced a picnic?
Seeing the prince before me looking so pitiful, Vivian made an effort to respond cheerfully.
“It’s not dangerous! It’s just…taking food outside and enjoying ourselves, I suppose? I’ll prepare the food.”
“You’ll prepare it?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve made sandwiches before.”
I had made them for Jean de Lamber when he worked late into the night. When Jean de Lamber saw the sandwiches I’d made with my own hands that day, he wept for a full thirty minutes.
“I’m serious. He said they tasted quite good, actually…and since all the ingredients are available, I just need to slice them, so you needn’t worry about the taste.”
“It’s not that I dislike it. I want to watch.”
“Watch?”
“Yes. I want to see you making the sandwiches.”
“You’re welcome to watch as much as you’d like!”
Vivian led Dietrich out of the Building.
The Building where Dietrich stayed naturally had a Kitchen attached, but it had been so long since anyone used it that it was covered in dust and unusable.
“Grandfather! May I use the Kitchen for a moment?”
“The Kitchen? What for…Ah, gasp. Your Highness.”
At the sound of Vivian’s voice, the Castle Steward opened the door and stepped out, then froze in shock upon seeing Dietrich.
The sight of the demon-like prince cradling a small monkey in his arms was always bizarre.
How on earth did Vivian manage to treat the prince as though he were an ordinary boy?
“I’m making sandwiches to eat on our picnic. All the ingredients are available—lettuce, bacon, tomato, and mustard too!”
“A picnic…you’re going on one? With His Highness?”
“We won’t venture outside the Castle. We’ll just sit in the Garden for a while and then come back inside. The weather is too beautiful to stay indoors.”
His Highness is going on a picnic? If he’s going, then I’m standing here, aren’t I?
The poor Castle Steward could not bring himself to ask further questions. He merely nodded and retreated back into the room.
Every time Vivian witnessed the Castle Steward’s behavior, it pained her. The prince was human too—wouldn’t it hurt him to see someone flee in fear at the mere sight of him?
Even if he had grown numb to it and no longer felt the pain, there must have been experiences that led to such numbness, and that troubled her just the same.
Yet she could not fault the Castle Steward for acting this way unintentionally. Vivian guided Dietrich to the Kitchen with an even brighter expression.
“Your legs must be aching. Please, sit here.”
“Mm.”
What a docile prince he was. What on earth could anyone possibly fear about him?
Perhaps it was the power I’d received from Kiki that kept me from sensing it?
Lost in such musings, I washed my hands and began my clumsy attempt at knife work.
Jean de Lamber had raised Vivian as the apple of his eye, so she could hardly be skilled in cooking. When they first reunited, he’d been shocked to see young Vivian naturally stepping forward to wash dishes, and he’d actually come to dislike her frequenting the Kitchen.
Since I’d never taken a particular interest in cooking, my experience amounted to nothing more than occasionally—truly, very occasionally—preparing snacks for Jean de Lamber and Kiki.
The sliced tomatoes were all different thicknesses. It was fortunate that sandwiches didn’t require much knife work for their ingredients.
Feeling somewhat embarrassed by my clumsy knife skills, I finished preparing all the other ingredients.
“It, it may look rough, but it tastes fine! Really!”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Dietrich hadn’t said a word, yet I’d felt self-conscious and blurted out loudly. My skill at assembling the sandwiches was at least better. After all, that step required no particular technique.
Dietrich, who had been watching me make the sandwiches without blinking once, gently interjected.
“May I try too?”
“Pardon? This? You could do it? Well, it’s not difficult, but… Your Highness, surely you needn’t…?”
“Watching you do it made me want to try. Would that be alright?”
“Of course it would!”
There was something oddly forlorn about the way he asked, so I promptly yielded my place to him.
‘Should I really let the prince make sandwiches? Truly? Well, he asked to do it himself, so it should be fine, right?’
Watching Dietrich with complicated feelings, I saw him create quite a respectable sandwich.
When I saw the sandwich he’d cut with perfect, even slices, I couldn’t help but applaud.
“Wow, Your Highness! You have quite the deft touch! I once overstuffed mine so much it fell apart. You could sell these!”
At my praise, a faint blush crept across Dietrich’s pale cheeks. His usually cold eyes softened, and I felt a sudden urge to preserve this moment in a painting.
Seeing him like this, no one would ever call Dietrich a demon.
“Since we’re making them, shall we make a few more? It would be nice to set aside some for the Castle Steward and Father too.”
Dietrich’s expression turned cold again at the prospect of his food going into others’ mouths, but I was too focused on making sandwiches to notice.
“I think this should be enough!”
The container holding the sandwiches was dishware we’d purchased for the journey. It was too sturdy to be called picnic ware, but nothing more suitable was available.
With two fresh bottles of milk added to the basket, I felt quite satisfied that we’d achieved a proper picnic spread.
“Shall we go, Your Highness?”
“Yes. Vivian.”
Having set out with such enthusiasm, the Garden we arrived at was…
A graveyard of plants frozen to death by the cold.
“So this is where one has a picnic.”
Dietrich nodded, gazing upon the desolate landscape.

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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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