Sylvara's Rebirth A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 33

**Chapter 33: Marriage Secrets**

With an exaggerated bow that seemed almost comical, Zephyrion bent at the waist, his posture reminiscent of a doormat welcoming guests. “Thank you, Sylvara. Thank you, Mr. Vaclor. I won’t trouble you any further. I shall take my leave now.”

He stumbled backward, taking two awkward steps before he dashed away as if flames licked at his heels.

Finished.

Sylvara observed his retreating figure, a silent groan escaping her lips. But the urge for a final act of petty retribution bubbled within her; she unleashed a flicker of mental energy, sending him crashing face-first into the pavement. The satisfying sight of him sprawled out in a dog-eating-shit pose was worth the effort.

Agares, standing beside her, glanced at the girl, who happened to be the spouse of one of his subordinates. He chose his words with caution, aware of the delicate nature of their conversation. “Your husband…”

Sylvara turned back, casting a sly look at her bargain-bin husband, and practically skipped toward her dorm, a smug grin plastered on her face. “Zephyrion wasn’t entirely off base. My husband is indeed part of the Hunting Legion. We just registered over Starnet,” she chimed, her voice bright and filled with mischief.

Agares walked beside her, casually picking up the containers she had carelessly abandoned on the ground. “I see,” he replied, his tone steady.

Pushing open the door to her dorm, Sylvara leaned against the frame, beckoning him to enter. Her gaze roamed over his broad, muscular form clad in military attire, and her voice took on a crisp, lively tone, reminiscent of a little bird daring to flirt with danger. “Yep, that’s the situation. And you know what, Your Highness Agares? My husband—he’s tall, handsome, responsible, fiercely patriotic, tough as nails, wealthy, generous, and the best part? He didn’t even ask for a prenuptial agreement. Can you believe that? He didn’t care that I had no money. Say… did you make your wife sign a prenuptial agreement?”

Agares halted, momentarily taken aback by her unexpected inquiry. It dawned on him that he had only been registered to his own wife for a mere few hours.

Sylvara noticed the brief flicker of surprise in his expression and tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “Your Highness Agares?”

“No,” he replied resolutely, his voice devoid of any hesitation. “As long as she is legally my wife, anything that belongs to me—so long as it doesn’t jeopardize national security—she has the right to utilize. I see no need for a prenuptial agreement with her.”

Wow.

Her bargain-bin husband was genuinely remarkable.

In that moment, Sylvara felt an overwhelming sense of triumph. She had hit the cosmic jackpot without even realizing it. Seriously, what was wrong with people in this Interstellar Era?

“It’s merely a fertility value,” she thought, her mind racing.

So what if his fertility value was zero? Was that truly a valid reason to overlook all the other incredible qualities he possessed?

“My husband thinks similarly,” Sylvara said, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Her entire being radiated a sugary sweetness, as if she were basking in a jar of honey. “He told me the same thing—that I have the right to use everything he owns, provided it doesn’t harm national interests. Your Highness Agares, is that a tradition among the Hunting Legion or something?”

“It’s not a tradition of the Hunting Legion. It’s simply a soldier’s promise to his wife,” Agares replied, his gaze drifting toward the table where a vibrant plant sat, adorned with lush greenery and multicolored fruit. The sight of it emitted a gentle wave of comforting mental energy.

That was a close call.

Her heart raced as she waited for her breathing to steady.

Then, her focus shifted to the seeds she had been clutching tightly.

With a surge of her mental energy, the seeds blossomed into small trees, each roughly the length of her arm, their branches laden with fruit.

She enveloped the roots in mental energy, creating an invisible buffer that would allow the plants to thrive even in the harshest conditions. As long as there was soil, they would endure.

Selecting a piece of fruit from each of the three trees, she tucked them into her spatial button, carefully smoothing over the areas she had harvested, ensuring no trace remained. After that, she opened the door and called downstairs, “Your Highness Agares, could you please take three of the containers outside and fill them with soil? I’ll be right down.”

Agares let his hand drop from the rainbow pepper and, without uttering a word, picked up the three ceramic jars she had left behind and made his way outside.

Finding nothing suitable for digging nearby, he reached into his own spatial button and produced a long combat knife. With meticulous skill, he used the blade to loosen the soil.

When Sylvara emerged, carrying the three small fruit trees, she caught sight of the nearly 6’3″ man crouched down, digging in the dirt with a knife. For some inexplicable reason, the sight struck her as oddly… endearing.