Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 148

**Chapter 148: Which One Is Better?**

“Come on, come on!” Sylvara urged, glancing at Veyric with a playful grin. “You need to eat faster! I’m completely out of seasoning—this is the last batch that actually has any flavor left!”

Veyric, momentarily distracted from his thoughts of besting Agares, let out a startled yelp and dashed toward the meat.

With a plate in hand, Sylvara approached Agares, her face alight with a warm smile. “Here, give this a try.”

Agares glanced down at the offering. The plate held thin, expertly grilled slices of winged serpent, arranged with care. Alongside them was a generous portion of deboned fish, glistening with freshness, and strips of golden-brown serpent wing meat that seemed to beckon him closer.

“Thank you,” he replied, his tone genuine. “I truly appreciate it, Ms. Feywin.”

“Not a problem at all,” Sylvara said, settling herself on the soft grass beside the lake. She patted the ground invitingly. “Come, sit with me, Your Highness.”

The area surrounding the lake was pristine, the earth covered in a lush carpet of grass, inviting and comfortable.

Agares, accustomed to opulent palaces and the harshness of battlefields, had faced Swarmborn and endured nights spent in the most unforgiving conditions. Sitting on the ground was a trivial matter for him.

Yet, when he did take a seat, he chose a spot that was a respectful distance away from her. The space between them was too close for the standards of etiquette he was bound to uphold.

He maintained an upright posture, serious and composed, embodying the discipline expected of someone in his position.

Sylvara had anticipated this behavior. One day, she mused, he would sit shoulder to shoulder with her, willingly breaking the invisible barriers of formality.

“Have you had a chance to eat today, Ms. Feywin?” Agares inquired, lifting his fork and casting a sideways glance her way.

Sylvara, having sampled the roast multiple times already, smiled back at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Do you want to know why chefs never go hungry?”

Agares shook his head, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “I’m not sure.”

His lack of understanding made her chuckle. “Because they have to taste everything! A bite here, a bite there—it keeps them full!”

Agares blinked, as if a light bulb had gone off in his mind. “Ah, I see.”

“Now eat up!” Sylvara nudged him playfully. “It’s not nearly as good once it cools down.”

From her spatial button, she produced a bright red apple and a small fruit knife. Sitting cross-legged on the grass, she began to peel the apple with deft movements.

Agares took a bite of the serpent meat, savoring the crispy exterior that gave way to tender, flavorful meat within. A spicy kick danced on his palate—pepper, he recognized, the same taste he had experienced during his stay at her dorm.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sylvara observed him. It was just grilled meat, yet he approached it with such seriousness that it struck her as unexpectedly charming.

Once she had peeled the apple, she sliced it into eight even pieces, scooted a little closer, and casually placed them on his plate.

Agares paused, his attention drawn to her gesture, and then looked up at her, surprise flickering across his features.

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