Dad Came Back from a Deserted Island Chapter 5

Morning came.

But Vivian didn’t want to open her eyes.

I had such a wonderful dream….

A dream where her Daddy had come back, scolded Ron, Mary, and Peter, and hugged her tightly.

Once she opened her eyes, that scene would surely disappear without a trace, and the old, bleak room would be there to greet her.

Then she’d have to go out and do all the exhausting housework again.

“I don’t wanna—”

Fluff.

Vivian turned onto her side and felt something strange.

Why is the pillow so soft?

Warm.

Gasp. And why is the blanket warm, too?

The pillow Vivian had used before had a dry, rough texture rather than being soft, and the thin piece of cloth she had called a blanket had been utterly inadequate for keeping out the cold.

But now, both the pillow and blanket were soft and warm, so Vivian was certain she hadn’t woken from her dream yet.

“Our princess! It’s time for breakfast.”

If it weren’t for the familiar voice and the arms lifting her up, that was.

“Umm?”

Feeling the warmth brushing against her cheek, Vivian finally had no choice but to slowly open one eye.

Filling her entire field of vision was her father’s face, which had collapsed into a soft, disheveled mess without a shred of dignity.

“Did you sleep well?”

For the record, after being shocked by his daughter’s “Who are you?” The previous day, Jean had cleanly shaved off his beard.

His skin was darker and rougher than she remembered, but that only made her more certain that this wasn’t a dream. She had never once imagined her father looking like this.

“Daddy…?”

“Yeah, it’s Daddy. Daddy made breakfast, so let’s go eat.”

Still looking half-asleep, Vivian was carried in Jean’s arms to the dining room. The delicious smell of food immediately made her mouth water.

“Are you really Daddy?”

“Of course! Is there a fake Daddy, too?”

“No…”

Her little hands busily explored Jean’s face. She stroked it, then pinched it, one after another.

Jean didn’t stop her or urge her to hurry just because the food was getting cold. He simply waited until his daughter was satisfied.

I still can’t believe this is real. How much more so for Vivian?

Heh.

At last, having truly realized that Jean had returned, Vivian gave him a silly little grin.

Jean grinned back just as foolishly.

“Now then, shall our daughter eat?”

“Yeah. But… Did Auntie Mary come back?”

Seeing the food spread across the table, Vivian clung to Jean and asked in a slightly anxious voice.

“…No. Auntie Mary isn’t coming back anymore. Daddy made all of this.”

“Daddy did?”

Vivian’s eyes went round.

Jean was a nobleman, even if he was a pitiful one who possessed little more than his title. He had never had any reason to cook for himself in the kitchen.

Daddy made all this delicious-looking food?

Seeing his daughter’s gaze, Jean smiled proudly and seated Vivian in a chair.

“Of course! Daddy even learned how to cook so I could make delicious food for our Vivian.”

In truth, it wasn’t much to brag about.

Freshly baked bread and soup were about the only things that could properly be called cooking, while the scrambled eggs, bacon and sausages, and fruit were closer to simple preparation than actual cooking.

Of course, to Vivian, who had survived each day on a single piece of black bread, it was a feast fit for royalty.

The smell of food made her empty stomach begin to cry out with hunger. Vivian raised her fork and eyed the food like a wild beast ready to pounce on its prey.

“Oh, my princess. You’re getting it everywhere. Slowly, slowly.”

“Mmm, yummy—”

Jean didn’t even pick up his own fork. He simply waited on Vivian, tending to her as she ate. Just hearing her praise the food as delicious with her cheeks puffed full was apparently enough to fill his stomach.

“Hee-hu, hee, hu.”

After Vivian ate until her little belly stuck out and then leaned back in her chair, panting for breath, Jean finally began his own meal.

“Thank you for the meal.”

It was only after Jean had eaten every last bit of what Vivian had left and stood up to clear the table that—

“Thank you for the meal!”

The limp little girl suddenly sprang out of her chair, picked up the plate she’d eaten from, and dashed into the kitchen.

“Vivi?”

“Daddy, just bring the plates! I’ll do the dishes!”

Jean’s hands stopped as he was putting away the dishes.

Do the dishes?

Vivian was only seven years old.

And she was a child whose body was much smaller than it should have been for her age.

He had heard about how Vivian had lived while he was gone, but seeing it with his own eyes made the feeling impossible to put into words.

Even saying that his heart had shattered was not enough.

Right now, he wanted nothing more than to go straight to the prison, find Ron, and tear him limb from limb.

Jean bit down on his lip as he restrained the impulse. He stopped just before the thin skin split and blood seeped out, then somehow managed to smile.

“No? Doesn’t our princess have something else to do?”

“Huh? What?”

“That’s right! Eating a snack. Go sit in the drawing room, and Daddy will bring it to you in a moment.”

“But—”

“It’s really, really delicious chocolate. Vivi, remember the kind you had before? You know, that soft, sweet brown snack.”

“Gasp! Really?”

Sure enough, Vivian began to waver while still holding the plate. Jean swallowed the hot indignation rising in his throat and playfully ushered his daughter out of the kitchen.

“……”

Clatter, clatter.

As he put away the dishes, Jean made a vow.

He would never, ever let Vivian have to say something like that again.

After everything the child had suffered—things she never should have had to endure—all because of his own foolishness, he would make sure that for the rest of her life, she walked only on silk.

Chocolate, something he had once been unable to buy her often because it was too expensive?

He would make her so sick of it that she would say she didn’t want any more.

Jean was confident he could make that happen.

No.

He had to.

He was no longer the ignorant country bumpkin he had once been.

“That’s right, I have—”

Memories he had brought back from the future.

 

***

 

Two years ago in the present, but more than a decade ago according to Jean’s memories.

Jean de Lambert had set sail with grand dreams in his heart.

His ambition was to bring back luxury goods from the New Continent and make a huge profit.

There was only one reason why Jean, who had lived a simple life all his life, had dared to dream of something like that.

For the happiness of his beloved daughter.

Jean’s wife seemed to have been the daughter of a rather powerful noble family. In fact, Jean didn’t even know which family she had belonged to.

He had never asked, and she had never told him.

The fact that they loved each other deeply had been enough.

But one’s origins could never be completely hidden, and Jean had been able to read countless things between the lines of his wife’s stories.

An expensive debutante gown worth several years’ living expenses for the couple.

Jewels passed down through generations.

Countless balls and endless guests.

Servants whose number his wife herself didn’t even know.

Yet his wife, who had abandoned all of those things and flown to his side, had never once seemed to miss them.

Jean. Look at me. Don’t cry. You have to remember what I look like at the end.

His beloved wife had never regretted her choice, not even in the moment she passed away giving birth to their child.

There had been only one thing she regretted.

That she would never get to see their newborn baby grow into an adult.

I wonder how pretty she’ll grow up. Tell me later.

No matter which one of us she takes after, she’ll be beautiful.

That’s true. Oh, right. I have some jewels I brought with me when I left home. If Vivi ever wants a pretty dress, sell those and buy one for her. If she wants to have a debutante… that might be difficult. I should have brought more, shouldn’t I?

Knowing that his wife was joking to make him smile, Jean forced himself to smile.

Only after she had taken in the sight of his smiling face did his wife smile in relief.

Then please take good care of our princess… I love you, Jean. I’m sorry…

Feeling his wife’s hand slowly grow cold, Jean made a vow.

He would give their daughter the most beautiful debutante she could possibly have in this world.

But House Lambert was a minor noble family with barely any territory worth speaking of. Even if they sold off everything they owned, they could never afford such an expense.

To gain great wealth, one had to take risks.

Our princess, Daddy will be back soon!

Jean waited until Vivian was old enough to remember him as she grew up. Then, when she turned five, he sold off whatever assets he could and embarked on a long journey.

Life aboard the ship at first was boring.

The waves were calm, and the only thing to do on board was fish.

He had been sitting with the sailors, wearing a serious expression as they devised a new card game, when—

A devilish storm descended upon them.

The chaotic scene, the screams, the thunderous roars of the sky, the people’s distorted faces.

Waves as enormous as houses smashed apart the ship that had proudly sailed across the sea and swallowed the people whole.

Of all of them, only one person survived.

Jean.

…Where am I?

The place where the waves spat Jean out was a deserted island.

Who am I?

When Jean opened his eyes there, he was in a state of pure blankness, having forgotten everything.