Sylvara's Rebirth A New Dawn for Abel novel Chapter 51

**Chapter 51: Royal Cuckold**

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“Bastard.” Anry spat venomously at the figure disappearing down the corridor, her face contorting into a mask of rage and frustration. The bitterness that swelled within her was almost palpable, as she clenched her fists tightly.

An heir—a boy or a girl—was all she desired. Yet here she was, at the age of 110, still childless, and the weight of that reality pressed heavily on her chest.

She had visited the breeding center more times than she could possibly count—at least a hundred desperate trips, each one filled with hope and anticipation. And yet, not a single viable child had come from any of those efforts.

Her fertility value wasn’t even low; it lingered stubbornly around 28, a number that should have brought her some comfort. But it didn’t.

Her husband’s fertility value was similarly unimpressive, but every time they managed to cultivate an embryo and implant it, it met a tragic end. Each time, within a month, the embryo faded away into nothingness. No heartbeat, no sign of life—just loss.

At this juncture, her only glimmer of hope lay in the hands of a Level-7 Plant Healer. She clung to that hope with a fierce determination. She would not let it slip away. She had to find her, no matter the cost.

Ozark emerged from the chamber, his expression unreadable.

His son, Isaac Wright, rushed forward, his youthful face a mixture of eagerness and worry. “Dad, did Agares sign the tri-party agreement? Who is the Level-7 Plant Healer? When can I start my treatment?”

Ozark shook his head slowly, disappointment etched across his features. “He didn’t sign. He outright refused to allow any inquiry into the Level-7 Plant Healer’s data.”

Isaac’s voice rose in pitch, practically screeching in frustration. “What gives him the right to refuse? If he doesn’t sign, how am I supposed to treat my genetic breakdown? How am I supposed to have a child?”

With a swift motion, Ozark grabbed his son and pulled him behind one of the massive marble columns, their sanctuary from prying eyes. The sharpness in his gaze was unmistakable, a flicker of calculation igniting within him. “Listen to me, Isaac. Don’t panic. Your fertility value is 35. Agares’s fertility value is a staggering zero. His Majesty’s fertility value barely scrapes 20. The Empress may boast a fertility value of 45, but they’ve been married for decades and have visited the breeding center countless times without success.

“You’re only nineteen. In comparison to them, your youth is an endless advantage. Do you really believe you won’t be able to have a child?”

Isaac scoffed, a cold snort escaping his lips. “I had planned to get my genetic breakdown treated first, then enroll in the First Military Academy. Now that’s all gone to waste. I’ll just have to drag this body there as it is.”

A flash of malice danced in Ozark’s eyes, a cunning smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “Who said you’re going to the First Military Academy? No, you’re going to the Fifth Sector planet. To the Fifth Military Academy.”

Isaac froze, his expression one of disbelief. “I worked my ass off to get into the First Military Academy. Why would I waste my time at that garbage school? It hasn’t produced a single notable graduate in ten years! Only trash goes there.”

Ozark ruffled his son’s hair, his tone now soft and fatherly. “Oh, my foolish child. Don’t you want to outshine Agares? This is your perfect opportunity.”

From the moment Agares was born, he had been the golden child, the one everyone revered. Upon reaching adulthood, he had enrolled in the First Military Academy with the highest score in the entire Troya Empire.

He had even indulged in two extra glasses of wine to celebrate the day he learned of Agares’s inability to reproduce.

Ozark studied his eager, impatient son, the calculating glint in his eyes impossible to conceal. “I’ve already looked into it. His wife is a Mordrel daughter, personally chosen by His Majesty—Miralys Mordrel. Miralys’s fertility value is 20.”

Understanding dawned on Isaac, and he exclaimed, “Miralys is at the Fifth Sector planet, enrolled in the Fifth Military Academy?”

Ozark nodded firmly, satisfaction radiating from him. “Exactly. According to my findings, His Majesty exercised his royal privilege and issued a direct order to the Mordrel Estate. Despite Agares’s fertility value being zero, they are strictly forbidden from canceling the engagement. They must adhere to every clause of the marriage contract—or risk losing their freedom and being exiled to a desolate planet.

“The Mordrels are an ancient noble house. While their coffers may not be overflowing, they live in constant fear of exile. That fear compelled Miralys to complete the marriage registration with Agares.

“But after registering, in a desperate attempt to avoid accompanying him to Kolar planet, Miralys fled to the Fifth Military Academy instead.

“Under imperial law, any woman who bears a child—regardless of her actions, be it murder, betrayal of the Empire, or treason—will have her sentence adjusted based on her status as a mother.”

Isaac’s eyes lit up with fervor, adrenaline surging through him. “I understand now, Father. I’ll report to the Fifth Military Academy tomorrow. Agares can’t have children. He can’t cultivate an embryo. So, I’ll do it for him.”

Ozark clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder, pride swelling within him. “Well done, my boy. As long as you can cultivate and bring a child into this world with Miralys, not only will Agares be powerless to touch a single hair on your head… He’ll become a laughingstock throughout the Empire. Everyone will call him exactly what he is—a royal cuckold.”