Dad has returned from the deserted island.
Chapter 6
Perhaps it was because he had hit his head so hard, but he couldn't even remember his own name.
For 3 years, he had lived in a state where he couldn't even recall how he had ended up alone on such an island.
After surviving for 3 years on the deserted island, Jean was finally rescued by a passing ship.
“Here! There’s someone here! Help me!”
It was a stroke of luck that a ship happened to pass by an island not included on any shipping route.
But the fact that the ship was a slave ship was a horrific misfortune.
The handsome Jean caught the eyes of the slave traders, and he was sold off as a slave just like that.
Jean, who was being sold for such a high price that the slave traders couldn't hide their grins, was saved by a stroke of immense luck before he could be handed over to his new master.
The auction house had been raided and smashed to pieces.
However, even though he had escaped the fate of a slave, the fact remained that Jean, who had no memory, had nowhere to go.
While wandering, Jean was taken in by a kind-hearted merchant.
The merchant, having heard Jean’s tragic story, took pity on him—though his looks certainly didn't hurt—and took him along, teaching him this and that.
Jean followed him like a father and absorbed everything he was taught like a sponge.
10 years passed just like that.
Then 1 day, with a headache that felt like his skull was splitting, Jean regained all his memories.
The heart-fluttering love, the ecstasy of holding his child in his arms, the sorrow of leaving behind his beloved, and the sense of responsibility for a child growing up without even knowing her mother’s face...
“Vivian!”
His everything.
His world.
How could he have forgotten Vivian?
He could have forgotten his own name, but he should never have forgotten Vivian.
Even the time spent regretting was too precious to waste.
Jean immediately went to the merchant, revealed that his memory had returned, and left for his hometown to find Vivian.
“My little princess, she must have grown so much, right?”
“I have to go back and tell her I'm sorry, that I missed her so much.”
“I wonder how beautifully she’s grown.”
It was clear that God was watching over him.
Jean truly believed so.
How else could he have survived alone in that violent sea? How could he have survived for 3 years on a deserted island after losing his memory? How could he have been rescued while being sold as a slave and met such a kind-hearted merchant?
But it was a delusion.
All the successive strokes of luck God had granted Jean were merely the price for the misery that awaited him.
Jean never saw Vivian again.
What greeted him was a shabby grave without even a headstone.
It was so neglected that if you didn't know it was a grave, you would likely just walk right past it.
The truth behind it was even more cruel.
After Jean’s disappearance, Vivian was worked like a maid by Ron and Mary, and as soon as she came of age, she was forced to marry Peter.
Vivian, who was forced to marry a man who had abused and tormented her her entire life, was so horrified by the reality that she stabbed her husband with a candlestick before their wedding night could even begin.
After being brutally beaten by the enraged Ron and Mary, she was left abandoned in a storage shed.
When Peter, who had collapsed, recovered—horrifyingly, Peter still harbored affection, or rather, dark desires for Vivian—and tried to release her from confinement to act like a savior, it was already too late.
She had already become a cold corpse.
No one knew if she had died from the illness caused by the beating or if she had starved to death because they hadn't even given her proper water.
It was because the couple, Ron and Mary, had hushed it up, burying her roughly by the roadside without even calling a priest for the deceased Vivian.
If there hadn't been a villager who recognized Jean’s face, he wouldn't even have heard this story.
That person, shocked by the return of Jean, whom he had thought was surely dead, begged for forgiveness with a face stained by the guilt of having been able to do nothing but watch it all happen.
Jean did not shed tears for what his daughter had endured.
He simply left a greeting for the villager and rose to his feet.
“A ghost has appeared!”
He set fire to the Lambert family estate.
He killed Ron, Mary, and Peter, who were still living in that house.
Because he killed them so brutally, the incident grew larger and larger, causing an uproar throughout the entire Empire.
This led to the trial of Jean, a country bumpkin and a noble without even a single territory, being held in the capital, the heart of the Empire.
The merchant who had taken Jean in explained his circumstances and pleaded for leniency, but the vast majority of people, who had felt nauseated just by the descriptions in the newspapers, demanded his execution.
They claimed that while Jean’s circumstances were unfortunate, he was too terrifying to be released back into society.
Hearing all these stories, the Emperor—yes, it was a trial presided over directly by the Emperor himself—sentenced Jean to life imprisonment.
Jean lived like a corpse. No, he merely kept his life. Even if he had been sentenced to death, he wouldn't have offered a single excuse.
His life force, which even the storm could not take away, was so tenacious that it wouldn't let him die even though he barely ate.
Perhaps living through this hell was the punishment Heaven had inflicted upon him.
After days, or weeks, or months. Perhaps after years had passed.
Jean, who had closed his eyes in prison waiting only for death, opened them on the deserted island.
And the moment he saw his reflection in the water, he realized. He had returned to the past.
The story that Vivian did not know, and would never know, ended here.
Jean smiled as he carried the chocolate and warm milk out to the parlor. Such things would never happen again.
“It's sweeet...”
Vivian, who had savored a piece of chocolate and a sip of milk for a long time, pressed her cheeks with both hands and shook her head.
Seeing her look so overcome with happiness, Jean’s face softened like a fool’s.
What stopped Jean, who was on the verge of bringing out every snack in the house, was a single sentence from Vivian.
“I don't want to eat anymore.”
“Wh-Why, why? Is it not good anymore? Wasn't it delicious? My Vivi, should Dad make you something else?”
“N-No, no. It's delicious. It's so, so delicious that I want to save it. Chocolate is expensive, you know.”
“...What?”
Vivian continued in a mature voice. Although she hadn't learned to read yet, that was only because she hadn't been taught; Vivian was a bright child.
Everything Ron and Mary had said until now had been neatly piled up in Vivian’s heart.
“Dad left to earn money because I like expensive things, right? I don't need to eat expensive or delicious things anymore, no, wait. It's okay if I don't eat much.”
So don't go.
Jean’s heart shattered once again at the sight of her small hand pushing the plate with the chocolate away.
“Wh-Who, who said that?”
His voice trembled as he asked.
“Uncle Ron did.”
Jean forced a smile and picked Vivian up in his arms.
“Ron was wrong, Vivi. Dad left to keep a promise I made to your mom.”
“A promise? With Mom?”
“Yes. I promised that when Vivi grew up to be an adult, I would dress you in a beautiful dress.”
“I don't need a beautiful dress! I don't have to wear one.”
Vivian burrowed into Jean’s arms as if starved for affection. Jean, holding her high so she could cling to his neck, rested his chin on Vivian’s shoulder.
“Dad is sorry, Vivian. I shouldn't have left you alone. I shouldn't have entrusted you to such people. Dad, I...”
Jean, unable to finish his sentence, felt hot tears stream down his face.
He had been pressing his hand gently against the child’s head so she wouldn't see, but there was no way Vivian, who was pressed against him, wouldn't notice that her dad was crying.
“Dad, are you crying? Wh-Why, don't cry, Dad.”
As Vivian’s own voice became choked with tears, Jean, who had been unable to hold back the surging emotions, regained his composure for a moment.
“You don't have to worry about that anymore, Vivi! We are rich now.”
“Huh?”
“Dad brought back a treasure chest!”
“A treasure chest?”
Holding Vivian, whose eyes had gone wide, Jean went up to his room.
The chest, which he had disguised with straw and brought on the carriage in case someone tried to take it, was still wrapped in cloth.
“Vivi, just a moment.”
Jean set Vivian down and carefully unwrapped the cloth, revealing a chest that exuded an antique feel while bearing the marks of time.
It was a high-quality item that would fetch a decent price even if the chest were sold on its own. To Vivian’s eyes, however, it was just an old wooden box.
But as the lid of the chest opened, a gasp of "Wow" escaped Vivian’s lips.
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