Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: You Smell So Good**

Seraphine stood anxiously by the entrance, her heart racing as she prepared to greet Agares. The air was thick with tension, and she could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

Agares stepped through the door, his dark green uniform a stark contrast against the pale walls of the room. He radiated an aura of authority, his demeanor as unyielding as tempered steel. Without preamble, he delivered his message, his voice a low rumble. “I apologize for intruding, but I have come to terminate my marriage with Ms. Miralys.”

In the Troya Empire, the process of marriage was straightforward: a visit to the Marriage Registration Center, a mutual agreement, and voilà—the union was official. However, the path to divorce was far more complicated. Both parties were required to appear in person for a consultation, and only if the relationship was deemed irretrievable could they be granted a divorce.

That was precisely why Agares had taken it upon himself to make this journey—to see the matter through to its conclusion.

Seraphine felt a shiver of fear run down her spine at his imposing presence. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, “Your Highness, it appears there has been a misunderstanding. The one who wed you is not Miralys; it is Sylvara.”

Agares’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “Sylvara?” The documents provided by his brother clearly indicated Miralys as his spouse. How had this discrepancy arisen?

Seraphine bowed her head slightly, her anxiety palpable. “Yes, Sylvara is my eldest daughter. She has been in frail health for some time. But I assure you, I have been caring for her diligently. She holds you in the highest regard and insisted on marrying you. Her younger sister, Miralys, fearing for Sylvara’s well-being, took the initiative to apply for the marriage on her behalf.”

She hesitated, then continued, “Sylvara felt unworthy of you, yet she married you nonetheless. After the ceremony, she left for the Fifth Military Academy on the Fifth Sector planet as classes were commencing. She wanted me to convey her determination to excel, to become the top freshman and prove herself worthy of your name, so that she would not bring you shame.”

Agares raised his wrist, activating his optical computer, and his eyes narrowed as he read the information displayed. His marital status was indeed listed as married, with Sylvara Mordrel as his spouse.

“Do you have a photograph of her?” His tone remained flat, devoid of any emotion.

Seraphine’s heart raced. She quickly accessed her own optical device, pulling up a picture of Sylvara from years past, when she was merely eight or nine years old. “This is the only image we have,” she explained, her voice tinged with regret. “Sylvara is quite delicate and avoids cameras, so her appearances are rare.”

“Please send her photo to—”

Before Agares could complete his request, a sudden beep interrupted him.

He opened the communication, and his adjutant’s urgent voice crackled through the earpiece. “Your Highness, we have a critical situation. Swarmborn-infected individuals have breached Kolar Planet and are now present on the Fifth and Eighth Sector planets.”

Meanwhile, aboard the spaceship, Sylvara sat in her seat, nervously toying with a metal chain that had broken off from her wrist.

Zephyrion Quill approached her, an oversized apple clutched in his hand. “Sylvara, here, take this,” he offered, his tone casual.

Sylvara eyed the small, wrinkled apple with skepticism. “No, I’m fine, really.”

Her gaze lingered on the apple, betraying her true desire. She wanted it, but her pride held her back.

If her fertility value hadn’t been significantly higher than Miralys’s, Zephyrion would never have bothered with her, a frail girl who struggled to walk without gasping for breath.

“You need to take care of your health. Eating more natural foods will help improve your genes,” he insisted, his concern evident.

Sylvara felt a wave of irritation wash over her.

Honestly, no thank you. The apple looked dry and unappealing, not worth her time.

“Just take it,” Zephyrion urged, grabbing her hand and pressing the apple into her palm. His voice took on a teasing tone. “It’s not expensive. You shouldn’t feel guilty; I’m more than happy to buy it for you.”

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