The Son-In-Law Of A Prestigious Household Wants A Divorce-Chapter 125: Interlaced Hands

“Favorite slave. There you are. The master wishes to see you.”

At Rancelon’s words, the air inside the livestock pen stilled.

“…….”

Isaac merely blinked, unable to think of a single retort.

He felt the soldiers’ gazes, once fixed on Rancelon, drift toward him.

“Up. Quickly.”

Isaac rose sluggishly. Silverna, clinging to his coat hem, tightened her grip and whispered,

“Don’t go. If you leave now, you’ll look like a real slave.”

“Isn’t that already the mood? You know we can’t refuse.”

To avoid arousing the Transcendents’ suspicion, obedience was safest. Silverna stuck out her lower lip and huffed.

“Tch. Then I’m taking two blankets tonight.”

“Sure—sleep warm.”

Outside, a cool night breeze brushed Isaac’s cheek. Once clear of the pen, Rancelon offered a flat warning.

“Come. She seems displeased. Pray this displeasure doesn’t become harsh punishment.”

“……Punishment?”

Isaac echoed, humorless.

“Aye. Those of primitive blood know no mercy.”

‘No mercy.’ Suddenly the others’ earlier panic made sense; to them, that lineage spelled cruelty.

The thought of Rihanna punishing him struck Isaac as oddly funny, yet he kept his face blank.

***

Had he forgotten how far Rihanna and Sharen were staying? They walked a long way. In the unnaturally quiet village, Isaac finally broke the silence.

“If it’s no trouble, may I ask something?”

“Hm?”

“Do the people here… not hate humans?”

Every Transcendent he had met until now dripped with hatred for humans, as though killing them were life’s only purpose.

“…….”

Rancelon’s pace slowed. After a brief hesitation, he spoke.

“What gain is there in hating humans?”

His tone was calm, yet difficult emotions simmered beneath.

“Pointless destruction, meaningless slaughter—those are not what we seek.”

Isaac walked beside him in silence.

“Do you know why we’re called sinners?”

“…….”

“Simple—we were different from them.”

Rancelon stopped.

His gnarled finger pointed skyward to a single star shining bright.

“That constellation bears a human name—Silver Clock.”

“Silver Clock…?”

“Long ago, a woman came to our land. The primitive walked with her, working for the world’s sake. We followed that hope.”

“Such a time truly existed?”

“It did. Back then, I’m told, the world was unlike this one—fragile and weak, yet one could still survive.”

His gentle voice carried the ancient dust of regret. This was no mere legend—someone had lived that history.

“Too much time has passed. Right and wrong have blurred.”

Isaac said nothing. The Transcendents he’d imagined and the man beside him felt like strangers.

“So we simply live here—seeking neither battle nor hatred. For that, we became sinners.”

Though plain, Rancelon’s words held iron conviction.

“Hating humans is meaningless.”

It was a beautiful thought—that not all Transcendents burned with human hatred.

Beautiful—

So beautiful, it felt unsettling.

Isaac offered no reply. Rancelon’s sincerity rang true, yet the quiet, twisted serenity beneath it only deepened Isaac’s unease.

They walked on in silence.

Isaac lifted his eyes.

Above, the Silver Clock still gleamed—distant, cold, and beautiful.

And, for that very reason, chilling—much like the Transcendent at his side.

* * *

The house where Rihanna and Sharen were staying had a layout Isaac had never encountered.

What drew his eye first were the low eaves and the sliding doors tucked beneath them.

The dark-wood floorboards swallowed every footstep.

A gentle scent drifted from a lit censer. Inside, a low table held a kettle of tea.

Even through the paper doors, the blurred silhouette beyond was unmistakably Rihanna.

Srrrk.

The door slid open without a sound.

Two women, wrapped in unfamiliar long robes, were waiting for him.

“Isaac! You’re here!” Sharen beamed.

“…….”

Both Sharen and Rihanna greeted him, their skin glowing with health—clearly their treatment here was far better than expected.

“I’m relieved you look well,” he said.

“Mm-hmm! They have the strangest things here—first, let me show you—”

“How is it on your side?” Rihanna cut in.

Sharen’s eager explanation died midway. Cheeks puffed in protest, she clamped her lips shut and backed away.

“I’m in an abandoned shed,” Isaac answered. “It blocks the wind and rain—right now that’s luxury enough.”

Rihanna nodded once; misplaced sympathy only bred suspicion here.

“I wanted to bring Sir Uldiran over,” she sighed, “but I doubted he’d accept.”

“That’s wise. The Margrave would rather stay with his family and soldiers than in a soft bed.”

He’d probably refuse even if they begged him.

After a quiet breath Rihanna looked at Isaac.

“Someone ought to rest comfortably, at least. That’s why I called you.”

Sharen patted the cushion beside her.

“Isaac, sit here! I even laid out a mat—there’s so much cool stuff to show you!”

Isaac started toward her—

“A-hem.”

There was a light, awkward cough.

“Sharen, Isaac has a lot to discuss with me… could you step out for a moment?”

“…I have plenty to say too.”

“Sharen?”

“Ugh, fine! But I really do!” she whined. “They said the market sells sweets when it opens, and if we want those—”

Sharen’s grumbling wilted under Rihanna’s gaze; lips jutting, she withdrew.

Isaac settled carefully beside Rihanna.

“Isaac, I hear the market opens tomorrow.”

“The market?”

“Peddlers come to trade with the ‘sinners.’ It’s mostly barter, apparently. How about taking a look?”

“Perfect timing. In unfamiliar places, markets show the local currents.”

Rihanna simply nodded; that answer satisfied her.

“Oh, and earlier I noticed the tea smelled quite nice.”

“Tea?” ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Rihanna rose, went to the kitchen, and returned with two thick cups.

“Must be local. Rancelon brews it himself, I’m told—his main trade item at the market.”

“I see.”

“Here, try.”

Chorrr…

Warm tea filled the cups. As the surface rippled, a delicate aroma spread through the room.

Some sharp medicinal notes pricked his nose here and there, yet the fragrance wasn’t unpleasant.

Sluurp.

The warmth spread through his body, the comforting herbal scent curling in his nose as if it were mending him from the inside.

The pleasant, nutty bitterness of the tea coated his tongue, then melted away, taking all tension with it; his shoulders slumped in drowsy relief.

“Ah—hold on.”

Rihanna, who had been sipping beside him, suddenly remembered something and walked back to the kitchen.

She returned with a wide plate holding square, black blocks.

Even after she set it on the table, Isaac still couldn’t tell what it was and only blinked.

“Unnie!” Sharen protested from across the table; apparently Rihanna hadn’t even poured her any tea.

“It’s called yanggaeng—a sweet jelly. Soft and sugary. Rancelon found it when Sharen said she liked sweets.”

“I was saving that for myself!”

“He said it pairs well with the tea.”

Rihanna handed Isaac a fork. He took a rustic-cut piece of yanggaeng, bit into it, then washed it down with tea; the cozy feeling doubled.

“Hoo…”

His fatigue seemed to vaporize. Rihanna nibbled her piece with ladylike poise, enjoying the mood.

When he emptied his cup, she silently refilled it, no words needed. Isaac, drinking, drifted into a half-dream.

‘What if…’

If they had run away—might they be living like this in some tiny house beyond all prying eyes?

If not for Helmut—would a little tea and cake have been enough for the two of them?

He stared vacantly at his cup, then noticed Rihanna wearing the same wistful look— a bittersweet smile: the moment was so perfect that losing it felt all the more tragic.

“Honestly! You two are impossible!” Sharen huffed, finally spearing her share of yanggaeng with a fork.

After passing her the tea and jelly, the room fell into a short, comfortable hush.

“You know,” Isaac began, breaking it, “I remembered something.”

“…….”

“October—Lord Arandel took the Helmut heirs on patrol to the neighboring villages.”

Rihanna’s head dipped slightly, almost bashful.

“The first snow fell that day. The wind was brutal, the snow piled deep, and I caught a cold the next morning.”

“Your clothes were far too light.”

“Everyone in Helmut dressed that way.”

During his first year, he’d tried to imitate them right down to their attire; his teeth had rattled like a solo performance.

“While the others laughed at me shivering, you silently took my hand.”

As if retrieving a forgotten treasure, he smiled softly.

“It was warm.”

“…….”

“Truly… so warm.”

Before he knew it, Rihanna’s hand had settled atop the back of his.

The touch was quiet yet gentle, and he almost had to look away.

Back in House Helmut, her status as the eldest and his own inadequacy had chained them both.

Out here, the walls were divorce papers and stubborn reality.

Thud.

He did not shake off the hand resting on his.

Then and now alike, the two of them were allowed no more than this.

– – The End of The Chapter ––

[TL: Join Patreon to support the translation and to read up to 5 chapters ahead of the release: /readingpia

Join our Discord server for regular updates and have fun with other community members: invite/SqWtJpPtm9 ]