Whether it was from hitting his head too hard or something else, he could no longer remember even his own name.
For three years, he survived on a deserted island without knowing how he had ended up there.
Jean was eventually rescued by a passing ship after enduring those three years alone.
“Here! There’s someone here! Help—someone please save him!”
It was luck that a ship had passed through waters not marked on any known route.
It was misfortune beyond words that the ship was a slave vessel.
Jean—beautiful enough to draw attention without meaning to—caught the eyes of the slavers and was sold off without hesitation.
He fetched an astonishing price, one that made even the slavers struggle to hide their excitement.
Fortunately, before he could be handed over to his new master, he was rescued when the slave auction was raided and destroyed.
But even though he was no longer a slave, the fact remained: a memoryless Jean had nowhere to go.
Wandering aimlessly, he was taken in by a kind-hearted merchant.
After hearing Jean’s tragic circumstances, the merchant pitied him—though his appearance certainly didn’t hurt—and decided to take him along, teaching him various skills along the way.
Jean followed him like a father, absorbing everything he was taught like a sponge.
Ten years passed like that.
Then one day, Jean was struck by a splitting headache that felt as if his skull would break open.
And with it, everything returned.
Love so intense it made his chest tremble. The joy of holding a child in his arms. The agony of parting from the woman he loved. The responsibility of a child growing up without knowing her mother’s face…
“Vivian!”
His everything.
His world.
How could he have forgotten Vivian?
Even if he forgot his own name, he should never have forgotten her.
There was no time for regret.
Jean immediately went to the merchant, revealed that his memories had returned, and set off for his homeland to find Vivian.
“Our little princess… she must have grown so much.”
“I’ll tell her I’m sorry. That I missed her so much.”
“I wonder how beautiful she’s become.”
Surely, God must be watching over him.
Jean truly believed it.
Otherwise, how could he have survived that violent sea alone? How could he have lived three years on a deserted island without memories? How could he have escaped slavery and met a kind merchant who took him in?
But he was mistaken.
All the fortune that had been granted to him was merely the price of the misfortune waiting ahead.
Jean would not meet Vivian again.
What awaited him was a shabby grave without even a proper tombstone.
So neglected that one could easily walk past it without realizing it was a grave at all.
The truth was far more cruel.
After Jean’s disappearance, Vivian had been forced to live as a servant under Ron and Mary. The moment she came of age, she was coerced into marrying Peter.
Unable to endure being wed to the man who had abused and tormented her all her life, Vivian stabbed him with a candlestick on their wedding night.
After being brutally beaten by Ron and Mary, she was locked away in a storage room and left there.
When Peter recovered from his collapse—disturbingly, he still harbored twisted feelings for Vivian—he intended to release her from confinement and take credit for it.
But by then, she was already dead.
No one knew whether she had died from injuries or from starvation and lack of water.
Ron and Mary quietly buried her by the roadside, without even summoning a priest.
If not for a villager recognizing Jean upon his return, he would never have learned any of this.
That villager, shaken by Jean’s return after believing him long dead—and tormented by guilt for having done nothing—begged for forgiveness.
Jean did not cry upon hearing what his daughter had endured.
He simply bowed quietly to the villager and stood up.
“Ghost! A ghost has returned!”
He set fire to the Lambert estate.
And killed Ron, Mary, and Peter, who were still living there.
The brutality of his revenge escalated the incident until it shook the entire empire.
A mere rural noble without land or power had caused such chaos that his trial was held in the imperial capital itself.
The merchant who had once taken Jean in pleaded for leniency, explaining his circumstances. But the majority of those who read the reports alone felt sickened and demanded his execution.
They admitted his story was tragic—but said he was too horrifying to release back into society.
After hearing everything, the Emperor himself—yes, the Emperor presided over the trial—sentenced Jean to life imprisonment.
Jean lived like a corpse. No, he was barely more than a breathing body. Even if he had been sentenced to death, he likely would not have offered a single word in his defense.
The storm that could not take his life had left him bound to it instead. Even when he barely ate, death refused to come for him.
Perhaps this was heaven’s punishment: to force him to continue living in hell.
Days, weeks, months—perhaps years passed.
Jean, who had been waiting in prison with his eyes closed for death, opened them one day on a deserted island.
And the moment he saw his reflection in the water, he understood.
He had returned to the past.
Everything that Vivian would never know—and would never be able to know—ended there.
Jean walked out into the living room carrying chocolate and warm milk, smiling.
None of that would happen again.
“Sweet….”
Vivian tilted her head back in delight after tasting a piece of chocolate and a sip of milk, pressing both hands to her cheeks and shaking her head in bliss.
Jean’s face softened into a foolish smile at the sight.
He looked ready to bring out every snack in the house.
But Vivian’s next words stopped him.
“I don’t want to eat anymore.”
“W-why? Are you tired of it already? Wasn’t it good? Vivian, should Daddy make something else?”
“No. It’s good. Really, really good… so I want to save it. Chocolate is expensive.”
“…What?”
Vivian continued in a composed little voice. Although she couldn’t read yet, it was only because she had never been taught—she was an intelligent child.
Everything Ron and Mary had said until now had piled up inside her mind.
“Daddy left because I like expensive things, right? I don’t need expensive things anymore. I don’t need tasty things either. I… I won’t eat much.”
So don’t leave.
Her small hand slowly pushed the plate of chocolate away, and Jean felt something inside him collapse all over again.
“Who… who told you that?”
His voice trembled.
“Uncle Ron.”
Jean forced a smile and lifted Vivian into his arms.
“That’s not true. Daddy left because he made a promise with Mommy.”
“A promise? With Mommy?”
“Yes. He promised he’d dress you in a beautiful dress when you grew up.”
“I don’t need a pretty dress! I won’t wear it!”
Vivian clung to him as though starved for affection. Jean held her high so she could wrap her arms around his neck, resting his chin on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Vivian. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I shouldn’t have left you with those people. Daddy… you—”
He couldn’t finish.
Hot tears spilled from Jean’s eyes.
He pressed his hand gently against Vivian’s head so she wouldn’t see, but there was no way she wouldn’t realize—she was pressed so close to him.
“Daddy’s crying? Why? Don’t cry, Daddy.”
Her voice grew damp as well, and Jean finally forced himself to steady his breathing.
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore. Vivian! We’re rich now.”
“Huh?”
“I brought back a treasure chest!”
“A treasure chest?”
Vivian’s eyes widened as Jean carried her upstairs.
The chest, disguised earlier under straw and loaded carefully onto a carriage so no one would steal it, was still wrapped in cloth.
“Vivian, wait a moment.”
Jean gently unwrapped the cloth.
A finely crafted antique chest was revealed, still carrying the weight of time. Even sold alone, it would fetch a high price. To Vivian, however, it was simply an old wooden box.
But when the lid opened—
A breathless “Wow…” escaped Vivian’s lips.
