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

The first thing one need to understand is this: the Kingdom never puts gag on its prisoners.

Even felons sentenced to the harshest penalties aren’t gagged, and if the prisoner happens to be a noble, that goes double.

In other words, the gag now strapped to Rihanna is not an item officially sanctioned—or even recognized—by the Kingdom.

Quadduk!

“……”

“……”

“……”

Squeezed from above and below, the muzzle finally cracks and clatters to the floor.

The carriage shudders with the noise; for a moment it even feels as if the wheels drop into a rut.

Even Rihanna looks flustered, staring at the broken gag as though she never dreamed this would happen.

She turns a helpless face toward Isaac.

“What do we do now, Isaac?”

Isaac is at a loss.

There was only the one gag to begin with—

And since it isn’t standard equipment, no one imagined it could break.

Who, in their right mind, expects someone to bite through iron?

Thud! Thud!

Beside them, Sharen starts clicking her own teeth together—

Apparently showing that, in Helmut at least, even a bite can be harder than steel.

“Huhh, are they tougher than the Transcendents now?”

—the Grandmaster mutters in fascination.

“Quit wagging your tail,”

Rihanna’s cursed tongue lashes out, moving almost of its own accord.

“And what’s with wrapping his arm in the bandage from your chest, hmm? At least keep a lady’s dignity in mind.”

Her mouth won’t stop, even while her face twists in embarrassment; it’s as if some other creature is voicing the thoughts she can’t suppress.

“Sharen has a handkerchief—use that to stanch the blood, Isaac. A sweat-soaked chest bandage is hardly sanitary.”

“Come now! If your teacher ties a bandage for you, you ought to say thank you. What’s so ‘dirty’ about it?” the Grandmaster snorts.

“Sweat, friction—of course it’s dirty. Isaac, don’t use it.”

“You talk like you’d know what sweat feels like,” she fires back.

“……”

A sudden hush.

Sharen gapes at the Grandmaster.

Isaac ducks his head, pretending he heard nothing, while glancing at Rihanna.

It’s a line everyone has probably thought once but never dared to say out loud—

And even Rihanna under Vassalization falls silent, proof of how hard Rihanna just got smacked and how her mind has stalled.

“Ah—”

Quivering, Rihanna answers slowly,

“Isaac said he likes me just the way I am.”

“Hey?!”

Startled, Isaac reaches to cover her mouth, but the Grandmaster seizes him by the collar and yanks him close.

“Kh!”

It all happens in a flash; Isaac all but falls into the Grandmaster’s arms.

Grinning slyly, she asked:

“A man cherishes the beloved exactly as she is, after all.”

“Mmmph—coming from someone who’s missed his own marriage window and whines into her liquor…” Isaac tries to retort, but the Grandmaster’s hand clamps over his mouth. The old master’s grip was iron-strong.

“Taste is one thing; a sweetheart is another.”

“Isaac said I’m just right for him. He called me adorable.”

“……Is that true?” the Grandmaster breathes.

The Grandmaster finally releases him, and Isaac slips out of her grasp with a sigh, hurrying back to Rihanna’s side.

“That first night together, Isaac touched my brea—mph!”

Isaac slaps a hand over her mouth mid-sentence, then rounds on the Grandmaster.

“You know she can’t filter her words because of the Vassalization. Please stop egging her on.”

“……Very well, but take your hand away. I’m dying to know the next part—if I don’t hear it, I’ll lose sleep tonight.”

“Sharen is right here,” Isaac protests, dragging Sharen into it for cover.

“Back then Isaac—” Rihanna’s muffled voice still squeezes through his fingers; clamping a hand over someone’s mouth is harder than it looks.

“Rihanna, please…”

Her eyes plead that she wants to stop too, but once a thought surfaces it links to the next and the next.

If this keeps up, she’ll spill every last detail of their wedding night. Isaac decides on drastic action.

“Riha, sorry about this.”

“Hu-mph?!”

He slips two fingers between her lips and gently pinches her tongue.

Rihanna’s eyes fly wide; her face goes scarlet with shock, but at last her mouth falls silent. Isaac exhales in relief.

“I wanted to hear that!” Sharen groans.

“Hah, how can you stop right when it’s getting good?” the Grandmaster smacks her lips in disappointment.

Isaac would rather die than let that story get out.

“……”

“……”

Their gazes lock. Warmth and the slick feel of her tongue press against his fingers—

He’s stifling her to hide the memory of their first night, yet by some absurd twist, they’re reenacting one of those very moments here in the carriage.

【Isaac-!】

【Riha! I can hear you—your mouth, ple—】

【Hmph?!】

“A-hem.”

“……”

Flustered and mortified, the two of them turn their eyes away from each other.

* * *

Late that night:

No matter how close their pursuers or how urgent their journey, horses can’t run forever.

They would normally swap mounts at a relay post, but caught between stations, they had no choice but to camp under the open sky.

A small camp-fire crackles to life.

The coachman who drove the carriage all day is already asleep—he’ll need his strength again tomorrow.

The rest of the party gathers around the flames.

Because they know hunters are on their trail, someone must stand watch, and Isaac is the first to speak up.

“I’ll take the first watch. Get some sleep.”

“Yess!”

Sharen accepts at once. The girl, desperate not to be shaken awake in the middle of the night, throws both arms in the air.

“You have to go to bed early if you want to grow tall!”

“…Right. Sleep well.”

Remembering the future Sharen he glimpsed through the ring’s magic, Isaac nods. She’d been impressively grown—if she takes care of herself, perhaps she really will become the young woman she dreams of.

“Hmm? Won’t you be exhausted tomorrow?” the Grandmaster asks.

“I can nap in the carriage. Besides, I’ve got work to do tonight, so don’t worry.”

Seeing Isaac pull out a blank notebook, the Grandmaster chuckles, ruffles his hair, and ducks into the tent.

“Don’t overdo it. Wake someone if you’re fading.”

Because of the Vassalization, Rihanna has to sleep alone in the carriage. Bound hand and foot, she just sits there, staring straight at Isaac.

“Want me to carry you back? Ready to sleep?” he asks.

“No. I want to stay by your side—just the two of us.”

“…All right.”

At first the tickle in her throat had felt strange and awkward, but now he’s grown almost used to it.

Isaac opens his notebook.

With the fire and the moon as his lamps, his pen begins to scratch across the page. Watching from inches away, Rihanna asks:

“Is that a manual?”

“Yeah. Her Highness the Princess is disappointed in the Royal Guard’s current technique. She asked if I could lend a hand.”

Beside him lies another book—the Hwangdo-Soomun Sword style used by the Guard, a school designed for subduing foes and holding a defensive line. Isaac flips between the text and his blank pages, revising weak spots, highlighting places that need emphasis.

Being able to swing a sword for real sure helps, he thinks.

In the past he only swung a pen; now, whenever something feels vague, he rises, mimics the cut, and lets the motion settle into his body.

The manual in his hands grows richer by the minute, and a smile touches his lips.

“So cool,” comes a constant whisper at his side.

“So handsome.”

“Isaac’s profile is so cool.”

“Your blank face makes my heart race.”

“Maybe you’re disappointed because I’m so crude?”

“…No, not at all. You don’t strike me as crude.”

If a truly vulgar person had been cursed with Vassalization, the things that came out of their mouth would be unbearable.

“Plenty of people—me included—would say far more embarrassing things if they were under this spell,” he adds with a rueful grin.

Even with her heart laid bare, the fact that Rihanna could say nothing worse than this only proved how innocent she truly was.

“Isaac too?”

Her eyes suddenly sparkle. She leans in, voice soft but eager.

“What would you have said?”

Isaac falls silent.

“Tell me. I’ve spilled everything—Isaac, you’re amazing.”

“I—I don’t really need to—”

“I’m curious. You look incredible in the firelight. I want to know what Isaac would’ve said.”

“…Could we not keep chiming in every few seconds?”

“I—I’m not doing it on purpose…”

Of course she isn’t. Isaac sets his pen down and studies her.

“If I were cursed by Vassalization right now…”

If every hidden thought had to come tumbling out—

“I’d probably just say how grateful I am that we can finally talk openly like this.”

“…Isaac.”

“Because what we always needed was conversation.”

A quiet smile touches his lips and he reaches for his pen again—

“You’re too wonderful.”

“……”

“I want to marry Isaac again.”

“…Hey.”

“Can’t we?”

“No.”

“Please?”

Rihanna edges closer. Isaac doesn’t push her away; he simply watches the fire dance over her crimson hair and eyes.

As they said, the woman called the “Blood Rose” was breathtakingly beautiful.

“…Wait here, Rhia.”

Isaac rises, scooping up the twin training blades he’d laid beside him.

Rihanna nods, scanning the dark.

“Looks like three of them, Isaac.”

“Yeah. I figured they’d show.”

Their foes lurk behind the trees, waiting to strike.

Transcendents?

The tension in the air feels exactly like them. He realizes he’s never fought them alone before.

Could I beat a Transcendent single-handed now?

He already knows the answer. Of course he can—his calloused palms and the blisters from endless practice prove it.

“The mood was perfect, and they had to ruin it,” she mutters, striding to the fireside and staring into the darkness.

“Why pick this moment to show up?”

The first enemy to break cover loses his head to a single iaijutsu slash.

“If my arms weren’t tied I’d kill every last one of them. Spoiling the mood like this—so annoying. Hurry up and di—”

“Master! Wake up and gag her already!” Isaac shouts.

He can’t listen to another word.

---The End Of The Chapter---

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