Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 232

Chapter 232 Without the Crown

Chapter 232 Without the Crown

55%

+35 Free Coins

Darien ground his teeth, staring hard at Margaret for a long moment. Then he let out a cold snort, flicked his sleeves straight, and turned on his heel.

“Out!” he barked at the cabinet officials.

Craig gripped his cane and slunk after Darien like a whipped cur, and the whole pack of them scattered in short order. The great hall fell quiet.

The doors to the cabinet chamber stood fully open now. An old man in elaborate court regalia waited just inside the threshold. His white hair was combed back with flawless precision, and a golden badge of office -the emblem of the Master of Ceremonies-gleamed against his chest. In his hands, he held a thick, gilt- edged folio.

As Margaret and the others approached, he stepped forward, folded his hands across his chest, and bent into a deep, formal bow.

“Victor Sinclair, Master of Ceremonies. I greet Prince Norman. I greet the Imperial Regent.” His etiquette was immaculate, his deference beyond reproach,

Margaret studied him. While the storm had been raging outside, this old man had simply stood inside the doors without a single word. Only when the Cabinet had cleared out did he step forward to pay his

respects.

Victor straightened and let his gaze rest on Norman for a moment, something complicated flickering through his eyes. He had served Lesley his entire life, and he knew the truth she had kept hidden. His loyalty belonged to the direct bloodline alone.

“Your Grace, the coronation ceremony and its arrangements have been prepared according to the late sovereign’s instructions.” He opened the gilt-edged folio. “The date is set for three days from now. I wished to ask you to review the final details.”

Margaret took the book and flipped through a few pages, scanning the dense, archaic Imperial protocols printed there.

She closed it and handed it back. “No need. Follow the late sovereign’s specifications. I trust your work.”

Victor accepted the folio with both hands and bowed again. “I will devote every effort to ensuring the ceremony proceeds without flaw. However-” His voice hung in the air. The hall was so quiet that every breath was audible.

Margaret released Norman’s hand and gave the child a gentle pat on the back.

Norman, perceptive as always, trotted off to the side and stood on tiptoe to trace the intricate carvings on the columns, leaving the adults to talk.

Victor clasped his hands together and bowed his head even lower. “The Thorn Crown, used for the coronation, is not currently held in the royal treasury,”

He paused, and the note of worry in his voice was unmistakable. “By ancient custom, the crown is kept in the custody of the Cabinet before a new sovereign ascends the throne. On the day of the ceremony, the Chief Secretary presents it personally. But Prince Darien has just declared that, given Prince Norman’s

111

1/2

14:08 Mon, 6 Jul M

Chapter 232 Without the Crown

55%

+35 Free Coins

youth and the question of the guardian’s legitimacy, the Cabinet refuses to release the crown in three days.”

Without the crown, the coronation was a farce. It would strip the ceremony of any legitimacy and turn the new emperor into a target of ridicule across the galaxy.

Darien meant to make a mockery of Norman’s ascension-to broadcast to every power in the Empire that this child emperor couldn’t even command his own cabinet, that he wasn’t fit to sit on the throne.

Margaret settled into a velvet-draped chair, crossed her legs, and let her fingertips drum idly against the armrest. “No crown, no coronation? Is that how it works?”

Cheiron had moved to the side table and poured a glass of water with practiced ease. He walked back to her and handed it over without a word.

“The Cabinet is forcing you to come to them,” he said, his voice even, laying the logic bare. “If you ask, they’ll use it as leverage. Shared guardianship. Or more of their people installed in the council. They’ll extract concessions.”

He stood beside her, tall and composed, the sleeves of his pale gray shirt rolled to reveal the clean lines of his forearms. But behind those gray eyes, something cold was running.

Margaret took the glass and drank, moistening her throat, then turned to Victor. “So without that piece of scrap metal, the emperor can’t be emperor?”

The words “piece of scrap metal” sent a visible tremor through Victor’s white beard. He nearly lost his grip on that flawless courtly composure. He had served the Imperial household for most of his life, and never once had he heard anyone describe the supreme symbol of Imperial power in such terms.

“Your Grace, please watch your words.” Victor dabbed at the sweat beading on his forehead. “The crown is the symbol of Imperial authority. No sovereign in the history of this Empire has ever been crowned without it. This is a matter of legitimacy and Imperial dignity. If the new emperor ascends without the crown, the nobility will not recognize the ceremony as valid. The public will say the succession is illegitimate. The lords of the outlying systems will seize on it as a pretext to defy the throne. Prince Darien means to destroy Prince Norman’s authority at its very foundation.”

Margaret sneered.

Dignity? It is something you earn, not something handed to you by a roomful of old men. Darien thinks he can box me in with a single crown. He’s gone senile in his old age.

“Fine. I understand,” She handed the glass back to Cheiron. “I’ll deal with the crown. You focus on the ceremony and the logistics. The coronation proceeds as planned in three days.”

T

2/2