Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 87

**Chapter 87: The Billion-Coin Bait**

“He came to the Fifth Academy with the intention of divorcing me,” Seraphine recounted, her voice tinged with incredulity. “If it hadn’t been for that Level-7 Plant Healer appearing out of the blue, he would have dragged me off to file those wretched papers. Why on earth would he ever consider giving me money?”

Setting aside the imperial decree that explicitly forbade their separation, the very rank of Agares rendered any notion of divorce utterly impossible. The weight of his title loomed over her like a dark cloud, casting shadows on any hope of freedom.

With that insipid niece of hers, Sylvara, having a connection to the Level-7 Plant Healer, and Agares stationed light-years away on the distant Kolar planet, Seraphine felt a flicker of determination ignite within her. She realized that the only viable course of action was to cling tightly to Sylvara, to entice the Plant Healer into their home, and to elevate the Mordrels from their dwindling nobility to a formidable force—blessed not only by imperial lineage but also by the exclusive patronage of a Level-7 Plant Healer. They would transform into a household that everyone would scramble to flatter and appease.

Gently, Seraphine patted Sylvara’s hand, softening her tone as she began to probe. “So, dear, is it true that Agares signed a prenup? Are you absolutely certain you’re not mistaken? I mean, royals shouldn’t be so miserly, should they?”

Sylvara instantly morphed into her delicate, innocent persona, her eyes shimmering with a heart-wrenching sadness. “I couldn’t believe it either, Aunt Seraphine. It baffles me how a royal family, blessed with such wealth, can be so tightfisted. But alas, the facts remain. Agares did sign the prenup.”

“All the assets he possessed before our marriage are completely off-limits to me. Only his salary and the royal subsidies that started from the date of registration are supposed to go into our joint account. I found myself in a dire situation—no money to apply for school, no funds for housing, and certainly no funds to buy the fruits of a Level-7 horticulturist. I had no choice but to take a loan from the Imperial Bank.”

“Please, don’t cry,” Seraphine cooed, her mind already whirring with schemes. “What if we do this? Just give Aunt Seraphine the Plant Healer’s contact information. I’ll handle the negotiations.”

You want the benefits without paying a price?

If I don’t squeeze you dry, then my talents as an actress will surely go to waste.

Sylvara let her lip quiver, her eyes glistening with feigned innocence. “I want to give Aunt Seraphine his contact too, but…”

Seraphine’s eyes gleamed with a spark of hope. She swiftly lifted her optical computer, ready to sync communications.

“But the healer warned me that if I ever share his contact with anyone, he would leave the Troya Empire for good and relocate to the neighboring Federation, never to return.”

Seraphine halted mid-gesture, her heart sinking. She forced a laugh, trying to mask her disappointment. “Well then, we certainly can’t let him escape to the Federation. Aunt Seraphine won’t ask for the contact just yet.”

“But,” she quickly added, “if you come home with Aunt Seraphine and invite him over, that wouldn’t count as sharing his contact, would it?”

Sylvara blinked at her with wide, crystal-clear eyes, dripping with faux innocence. “Aunt Seraphine is so clever. But… if I go home with you, what about the money I owe the Imperial Bank? The healer is about to cultivate new fruit, and I must pay the deposit first.”

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