Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 92

**Chapter 92: The Accusation Call**

“Let’s not forget, you were the one who said it yourself. His Highness Agares never had any intention of acknowledging the marriage with her from the very beginning. This whole situation was merely His Majesty leveraging his authority to corner us into a corner. Our family had no choice but to allow Sylvara to marry above her station, to His Highness Agares, against our better judgment.”

The weight of the words hung in the air, heavy with implications. “His Highness Agares was always looking for a way out of this marriage. The moment he discovers that she’s been cavorting with other men, even if Kolar is under siege from another Swarmborn assault, he will abandon everything—his princely duties, his facade of loyalty—and demand a divorce. Once that happens, we can seize the opportunity to bring her back home and confine her.”

A sinister smile crept onto her lips as she continued, “For her freedom, she’ll be willing to relinquish the Level-7 Plant Healer she’s been hiding. In exchange for her release, we’ll not only reclaim her but also gain a permanent guest in the form of that healer.”

The unspoken truth lingered in the air: once the Level-7 healer graced their household, and they managed to imprison him, their family would ascend to the ranks of the most prestigious noble houses in the Troya Empire. Seraphine envisioned a future where she would be a sought-after match, a prize that others would vie for, and Zephyrion would cherish her as if she were the most precious jewel in his collection.

Seraphine felt the allure of the Level-7 Plant Healer’s promise of endless wealth and unparalleled status wash over her. The thought of possessing such power, or even befriending him, sent shivers of excitement down her spine.

“Very well,” she finally declared, her voice steady with resolve. “I will make the call to His Highness Agares on the optical computer.”

Moments later, a dozen small boxes and a single large food container were carried into Agares’s chambers, each one a harbinger of the unfolding drama.

The room itself was a stark contrast, dressed in a cold palette of black and white, devoid of warmth or comfort. It radiated a chilling rigidity that seemed to suffocate any hint of life. Only the boxes on the table dared to inject a splash of color into the otherwise somber environment.

At the entrance, a group of a dozen people crouched in two lines, their expressions a mix of anxiety and condemnation. Half of them were fixated on the closed door, while the other half cast scornful glances at Leiya, who was huddled in the center, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

Leiya sat there, feeling utterly alone, his small feet scratching the ground in a futile attempt to distract himself. He longed for the candy that Sylvara had made, its sugary sweetness a distant dream.

The guards stationed at a distance exchanged glances, their unease growing as they observed the vice commanders of the Hunting Legion. One by one, they were blocking the commander’s door, their intentions shrouded in mystery.

What were they scheming? What could possibly be their endgame?

The commander was a force to be reckoned with—his combat prowess was legendary. He could tear apart mutant beasts and rend Swarmborn asunder with nothing but his bare hands. Yet, this gathering felt ominous, as if the vice commanders were on the brink of a mutiny.

The guards felt their hands instinctively gravitating toward the laser guns holstered at their waists. If any of the vice commanders made a move that even hinted at a threat to the commander, they would not hesitate to pull the trigger. There was no way they would allow harm to come to him. Absolutely not.

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