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Chapter 4
There was nothing to hide.
The man who had boldly stormed into the Lambert household, terrified Ron and Mary, and most of all looked at Vivian and called her his daughter—
was, of course, Jean de Lambert.
“V-Vivi. What do you mean, who am I? I-I’m your dad.”
“But you’re not my dad……”
At his daughter’s denial, Jean looked as though the sky had fallen apart. He bent down and cautiously stepped closer, but Vivian immediately took a frightened step back.
Crash.
Jean’s heart shattered.
But this wasn’t Vivian’s fault.
“M-My dad d-doesn’t look like this—”
Jean’s current appearance was completely different from the one Vivian remembered.
Originally, Jean was a man handsome enough to be called the greatest beauty in this village—no, this castle—no, this entire country. At least, that was what his wife always claimed.
Soft brown hair, eyes like the spring sky melted into glass. A sharp nose, lips curled slightly upward at the ends, a clean jawline without an ounce of excess, and a gentle expression no matter the season.
Men jealous of him might sneer and call him delicate, but women—and even some men—couldn’t help praising him for awakening their protective instincts.
He was the sort of flower-deer-like man whose face Vivian could easily imagine as the prince in a fairy tale without it feeling strange at all.
But the Jean standing before Vivian now looked entirely different.
A thick beard covered most of his lower face. Blood vessels had burst in his sleepless eyes from rushing here without rest, and his hair was rough and disheveled.
The lean body once defined by wiry muscle had vanished, replaced by a massive build that looked capable of taking down a wild boar barehanded.
Rather than a fairy tale prince, he looked closer to the bear attacking the princess.
So it was only natural that Vivian failed to recognize him.
“Waaahhh……”
To Vivian, who had to crane her neck to look up at him, Jean appeared even more intimidating. The child burst into tears at the sudden appearance of a man claiming to be her father.
“Oh no, Vivi. Our princess. It’s okay, it’s okay. Daddy changed a lot, right? Daddy hurried as fast as he could to come see our princess. Daddy crossed the sea and climbed mountains just to see our Vivi, you know?”
Jean fumbled desperately as he tried to comfort her.
Though frightened, Vivian instantly threw herself into his arms the moment he reached out.
The way she clung to him so desperately for warmth stabbed Jean’s heart like needles.
“E-Eyes! Right. Look at my eyes, Vivi. They’re the same color as yours, right? Who did they say in this world has eyes exactly like Vivi’s?”
“Daddy……”
Jean’s voice at least had not changed, so Vivian slowly began calming down in his arms.
Still sniffling, Vivian blinked away her tears and looked into his eyes.
When she saw the bloodshot whites, she shrank back in fear.
When she saw the sky-blue irises identical to her own, her frightened eyes widened.
And when she found the overflowing affection directed entirely at her—
fresh tears burst forth again.
“Daddy……?”
“Yes! Vivi, it’s Daddy. Daddy! Do you recognize me now?”
“Daaaddyyy—!”
As if asking why he had only come now, Vivian collapsed into Jean’s embrace.
He had thought there could be no tears left to shed, but he was wrong. Vivian cried her heart out hard enough to soak Jean’s rain-drenched cloak once again.
“That’s right, Daddy’s here—Daddy’s here now—”
Biting his lip hard, Jean wrapped one large hand around Vivian’s tiny back. The child was so painfully thin he could feel her bones jutting through her clothes, and rage twisted his stomach again.
Still holding Vivian, Jean glared at Ron, who remained frozen like he’d seen a ghost.
“Ron Dozier.”
“M-Master. I, well, I thought you were dead.”
“And if I die, that means you’re allowed to abuse my child?”
Ron flinched and stumbled backward. People said even kind men were terrifying when angry, but this was beyond that.
Jean looked like the sort of man who had never killed anyone in his life, yet the murderous aura rolling off him felt like that of someone who had killed many.
“A-Abuse? Absolutely not. We never hit Vivian, a-and besides—”
Ron’s excuses were pitifully flimsy.
Of course they were.
It was true they had never beaten her. But they had done everything else. Locked her in the attic, starved her, forced her to do endless housework.
As Ron continued backing away, his hand struck the dining table.
Flutter.
A piece of paper on top slid to the floor.
“Ah, t-this!”
“……”
The engagement document bearing the names Vivian and Peter.
And the tear stains soaking it.
Jean didn’t even need to ask whose tears they were.
“Hiiik!”
Jean’s mud-covered boot crushed the paper beneath it. Soaked with water and dirt, the document was ruined beyond use.
One arm held Vivian securely while his other hand gently patted her back, but the expression on the face she couldn’t see looked ready to tear Ron apart on the spot.
“Waaahhh!”
Peter, still in his mother’s arms, saw Jean’s face and burst into tears.
“H-Hey, quiet down!”
Afraid he might hurt the child, Mary quickly covered Peter’s mouth and turned away.
That pitiful display of maternal love only fueled Jean’s fury further.
Parents who knew how precious a child was.
People who had watched Vivian ever since she was born.
Yet they starved her, mistreated her, stole everything from her, and even tried to force her into marriage with their own son.
“……”
Jean ground his teeth at the future that almost came to pass.
If Vivian were not in his arms right now—
if she were not clinging to him as though she would never let him go again—
Ron would have breathed his last today.
But if Jean became a murderer, he could no longer stay by Vivian’s side.
He had to endure it.
When he finally spoke, his voice sounded like grinding metal.
“You people.”
Behind Jean’s low voice, loud noises gradually grew closer.
The snorting of horses.
The clatter of armor.
The sound of men entering through the open door.
As the noises approached, Ron and Mary’s faces turned pale.
“From now on, you’ll never see the sky without iron bars in front of you.”
The newcomers were a group of armed men.
They were members of the village guard from the nearby town—a place half a day away by horseback. Jean and Vivian’s own village was too small to afford a proper guard force, so the residents had formed a vigilante militia instead.
“W-What is all this?!”
“How did the guards get here?!”
“Ron Dozier, Mary Dozier! You are under arrest for child abuse, embezzlement, and insulting nobility!”
“A-Arrest?!”
The words “But there’s no evidence!” never made it past their throats, blocked by their own guilty consciences.
But how had the guards found out?
And how had Jean?
He had only just witnessed Vivian being mistreated himself, so when had he even reported them?
“Is this your son?”
“T-The child has done nothing wrong!”
When one of the guards pointed at Peter, who still didn’t understand the situation while clinging to his mother, Mary panicked.
The guard clicked his tongue.
“Tch. Don’t worry, we’re not throwing a child in prison. But he can’t stay here, can he? Until your sentencing is decided, there’s nowhere for the boy to go, so we’ll take him.”
“Waaahhh, no! Mom! Mooom!”
In an instant, the guards dragged Ron, Mary, and Peter away.
Only Jean and Vivian remained inside the wrecked Lambert household.
At some point, Vivian had cried herself to sleep.
Even after drifting off into dreamland, she still tightly gripped Jean’s clothes as if refusing to ever let go again.
Careful enough that she might fly away if he breathed too hard, Jean gently stroked Vivian’s cheek.
