The Son-In-Law Of A Prestigious Family Wants A Divorce

Matters that everyone knows yet seldom dares to voice are called unwritten rules—or taboos.

Today’s conference was exactly that.

The nobles hastened out, sour-faced. As though they had overheard something forbidden, they slipped away without uttering a word, shoulders drooping as if they were the guilty ones.

Isaac merely bowed to their retreating backs. Watching those conservative nobles so at a loss gave him a secret thrill.

Last of all, the “criminal” Rihanna began her walk down the audience hall’s crimson carpet, head bowed too low to see ahead.

“…….”

Should he say something to comfort her? Isaac tried, but nothing suitable came to mind. In the end he simply patted her slumped back in silent support.

“Rihanna, the princesses will come to see you soon. For now, let’s go back.”

-Nod.

Some time passed. Princess Adeline and Princess Clarice, now dressed more casually, stepped inside.

They dispensed with formalities; after all, they had exhausted those during the meeting, and among these four it mattered little.

“How is Rihanna doing?” Adeline asked with an easy smile. Isaac glanced at Rihanna and answered for her.

“She’s mortified. I suspect she’ll stay this red for at least half a day.”

Thud!

Rihanna shifted, bumping Isaac’s hip with her backside—a protest against his words, though in her current state it looked only like a cute pout. Princess Adeline nodded, satisfied.

“I’m glad Rihanna returned safely. Don’t take what happened too much to heart—no one doubts your sincerity.”

In truth, Rihanna’s body still ached to lunge and kill Princess Adeline, but the chains and shackles binding her left no chance, and Isaac—who had subdued her himself—stood beside her.

Isaac stole a glance at Rihanna and cautiously loosened her gag.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology burst forth as though she had been waiting. She frowned, regretful she couldn’t kneel.

“Because of my shortcomings, the sword meant to protect the royal family was turned against it.”

“Ha—vassalization spell does have its uses. They let us confirm Helmut’s loyalty like this,” Adeline said, a faint smile lingering as she savored the proof of Helmut’s heart. With her habit of coveting talent, she clearly wished to claim Rihanna as well.

“Once—”

Watching this, Clarice blinked and blurted, “My sister once tried to lure Isaac to her bedroom.”

“Your Highness?!” Isaac yelped, flustered, but Clarice’s gaze had already fixed on Rihanna, eager to see her reaction.

Rihanna flinched, then calmly lifted her head and met Clarice’s eyes.

“Isaac is that attractive of a man. Even if Your Highness desired him, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Oh-oh.” Clarice found the unexpectedly composed reply fascinating.

Relieved, Isaac warned softly, “Your Highness, even so, teasing Rihanna like th—”

“But you can’t.”

All three sets of eyes swung to Rihanna. Her crimson gaze begged Isaac to gag her again—

“Don’t take him.”

—But her mouth was quicker than his hands.

“I want Isaac to stay with me. I don’t want him with anyone else. Even if you’re a princess, another woman shouldn’t—”

“Ah—hey!”

Isaac hastily clamped the gag back in place. Adeline watched, chuckling under her breath as she smoothed Rihanna’s hair.

“Don’t worry,” she soothed.

“…….”

To Rihanna, blinking with clear eyes, Adeline added, “If I decide to claim someone, I’ll claim you both together.”

‘She’s insane,’ Isaac thought—thankful he wasn’t the one bound by the spell.

* * *

The Next Day, before the Royal Palace:

The kingdom—still in chaos—was deep into emergency repairs.

“Haah… it’s such a pity we have to send you off without even a proper talk.” Clarice sighed in front of the carriage bound for the Mage-Tower.

“Maybe I should tag along too? What do you think, Isaac?”

“I think that would be a terrible idea. You have plenty of business to handle here. Look over there—Heyrad face is the color of ash.”

Clarice turned where Isaac pointed; sure enough, Heyrad, still on duty despite wounds from the fight with Rihanna, was worrying what would happen if Clarice left.

“Ugh, it really is a shame.” Clarice shook her head, then glanced at Rihanna standing beside Isaac.

“…You two aren’t back together, right?”

“No, nothing of the sort.” Isaac’s answer was knife-clean, and Rihanna’s shoulders slumped a little.

“Well then. Ahem. Just for the record, Isaac—my proposal still stands.”

“Proposal…?”

Isaac tilted his head, prompting an exasperated puff of air from Clarice.

“Are you kidding me? Have you already forgotten a princess asked you to marry her?!”

“…!” Rihanna glanced back and forth between them, wide-eyed.

“Tsk, Isaac, do you want extra drill time? Handsome or not, can you really ignore a princess’ true feelings?”

“Ahem. To answer sincerely—I have no intention of letting any woman into my heart right now.”

“I know. I’m saying it because when the time finally comes, there may be no chance left.”

The gentle smile Clarice sent him felt like warmth… and like comfort.

“End this war quickly. I want the day to come when you can finally rest.”

“…I truly wish for that as well.”

“When that day comes, I’ll visit your manor often. You’ll be at least a count by then, won’t you? You’ve done far too much not to be.”

“Cough. I didn’t act for the sake of a title.”

“Receiving rewards equal to your deeds is perfectly natural.” Clarice winked.

“Travel safely. I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

“Thank you.” Isaac bowed, then climbed into the carriage with Rihanna.

“Oh, you’re here!” Sharen chirped.

“Yaaawn, I’m sleepy,” added the Grandmaster. They had accompanied the group just in case, though they’d done little.

The Grandmaster tapped the wall. “Driver, set off.”

“Yes, ma’am!” came the coachman’s reply. The carriage—an almost relaxed escort for the “prisoner” Rihanna—rolled toward the Mage-Tower.

“Unnie, isn’t that gag uncomfortable?” Sharen, seated opposite, tilted her head. The muzzle did look annoyingly restrictive.

“If it bothers you, I’ll take it off. It’s only us in here,” Isaac offered, but Rihanna shook her head.

‘She’s resisting pretty hard… Is she cooking up some plan right now?’ Isaac wondered, ready to leave her be.

Sharen, however, reached playfully for the gag. “C’mon! It’s been ages, I want to talk to my unnie!”

Click!

The gag popped off.

“What if the princess and Isaac get married?”

In that instant it was painfully clear what Rihanna had been brooding over—and why she had begged not to remove the gag.

“Of course, if Isaac is happy I should congratulate him,” she rattled on,

“But I think I’d be devastated. I’d cry buckets—ah, I can feel the tears already.”

“It hasn’t been long since the divorce, and already—how many people do you like, Isaac?”

“Please, Isaac, put the gag back on me.”

Such is the unpredictable track of a vassalization ’s thoughts: the moment she realizes she shouldn’t be saying something, her mind loops right back to it.

At Rihanna’s urgent plea, Isaac refastened the gag. Clearly, she would need to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the ride.

“Wow, this is fascinating,” Sharen breathed.

“Ahem… I find it rather awkward,” Isaac admitted. He had never seen Rihanna display her affection so openly; she had always been the quiet type.

Feeling guilty, Rihanna dropped her head—and Sharen mischievously unbuckled the gag again.

“Call me Riha, not Rihanna.”

“……”

“Hm? Call me Riha. You used to call me that.”

“Sharen, enough. Rihanna is having a hard time,” Isaac warned.

“But she’d be happy if you called her Riha.”

Sharen giggled, delighted, while even the Grandmaster covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

Despite all the words pouring out, Rihanna’s face blazed crimson; she had no idea what to do with herself.

“Th-the gag, Isaac. Please, the gag!”

“All right, just hold on.”

Isaac felt like he was minding a child as he reached to secure it once more—

“Unnie, what do you think of Isaac?” Sharen slipped the question through the momentary gap.

“I loooove him sooooo much!”

Rihanna’s eyes spun in circles, as though searching for a mouse hole to hide in.

---The End Of The Chapter---

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