For a moment, Shade thought Osenfott would pick something up and strike Mr. Watsont from behind. Judging by her expression, the Haila in the illusion thought so too, but Stone Osenfott restrained himself once again.
He clenched his fist, and a forced smile returned to his face:
"How about we sign here? I'll have the servants bring chairs and a table, along with pens and ink."
The illusion continued. The old butler of the manor, whom Shade knew well, appeared carrying tables and chairs alongside a maid dressed in an Old Era maid's dress.
And so, the group sat down at the entrance amid the snow—though judging by their clothing, it was actually summertime in their time.
Old Mr. Watsont took out the parchment contract. Stone Osenfott glanced at it, then finally slammed his palm onto the table and rose in fury:
"What does this mean? Why is it different from last time—if the two divorce, all family property will belong to Haila Watsont. If Haila Watsont dies during the marriage, she must be buried in the Wosente Family Cemetery."
"Father."
Lady Haila clutched a handkerchief and looked angrily at her father. Old Watsont, meanwhile, calmly explained to his future son-in-law:
"I don't trust you, so I need to increase your losses in the event of a divorce. The Osenfott Family cemetery is too dilapidated, even more dilapidated than this house, and it is full of rude people. For my daughter's peace after death, she must return to our family cemetery. Of course, if you wish, you may also be buried in the Wosente Family Cemetery. I won't make things difficult for you."
"You—"
As the illusionary Osenfott spoke, he raised his hand. Though he stopped himself, there was genuine murderous intent in his eyes. This was no joke. At