Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 249

Chapter 249 A Very Pretty Figurehead

249 A Very

Chapter 249 A Very Pretty Figurehead

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“Margaret.” Norman slid off her chair the moment Margaret appeared, her short legs carrying her across the floor at a run. She stopped in front of Margaret and tilted her face up.

Margaret bent down and scooped her up, testing her weight. “You’ve put on a little weight,” she said, her tone shifting into the soft cadence of someone speaking to a child.

A faint blush crept across Norman’s cheeks. She looped her arms obediently around Margaret’s neck.

Margaret carried her to the dining table, sat down, and popped a piece of roasted meat into her mouth. “You’re coming with me to the Cabinet today. You’re the emperor now. There are some things you’ll need to show your face for.”

At the word “emperor.” Norman’s expression tightened. Her small fingers clenched around Margaret’s sleeve.

“What are you afraid of?” Margaret smoothed down her red hair. “If the sky falls, I’ll hold it up. Your job today is to sit on that throne and be a very pretty figurehead.”

It was blunt and fiercely protective, and somehow that was exactly what Norman needed. The tension in her small frame melted. She nodded hard.

Cheiron walked in from outside, dressed today in a sharp black uniform that fit him like a blade. The gold- rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, and everything about him radiated a cold, restrained intensity.

“The car is ready.” He approached Margaret and set an electronic briefing down on the table. “The cabinet session starts in half an hour. Aegis Squad will hold the perimeter.”

Margaret scanned the briefing. “Any movement from Darien?”

“He’s rallied several of the old-blood nobles. They plan to formally propose the Regency Council bill at today’s session.” Cheiron’s gray eyes flickered. “They intend to hollow out your authority.”

“Hollow me out?” Margaret let out a scoff, swallowed the last of the meat, and wiped her hands on a napkin. “He should check whether he’s got the lifespan for that.”

She rose to her feet and took Norman’s hand. “Let’s go. Time to stretch the legs.”

The hovercar pulled into the Imperial cabinet building’s private access lane and came to a stop. The doors opened, and two columns of Aegis Squad soldiers moved into formation.

The pressure of S-class and A-class males rolled outward without restraint, tightening the chests of every Royal Guard in range. The display was absolute.

absolute, ||||1.

Margaret stepped out with Norman’s hand in hers, Cheiron following half a step behind.

The doors to the cabinet chamber were pulled open by two guards. The low buzz of conversation inside died instantly. The long table was packed on both sides with the Empire’s highest-ranking officials and nobles. Dozens of pairs of eyes swiveled toward the entrance in unison.

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14:10 Mon, 6 Jul MA

Chapter 249 A Very Pretty Figurehead

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Margaret ignored every last one of them. She led Norman straight to the end of the table, where two chairs stood waiting.

One was the pure gold throne that symbolized the Empire’s highest authority. The other, slightly lower but no less ornate, was the Regent’s seat.

She lifted Norman onto the throne and adjusted the child’s collar. “Sit steady,” she murmured.

Then she turned and settled into her own chair, crossing her legs and leaning back against the seat as casually as if she were lounging in her own garden.

“Morning, everyone.” Margaret propped her chin on one hand and swept her gaze down the length of the table. It came to rest on Darien, seated at the head of the left side. “Everyone’s here? Good. Let’s get started. I’ve got a lunch appointment with my family, so I’d rather not run late.”

Darien’s face had gone iron-gray. He rose to his feet and planted both hands on the table. “Your Grace, today’s session is meant to discuss the future power structure of the Empire. You may hold the late sovereign’s will, but your experience is still—”

Margaret wasn’t listening to a single word coming out of his mouth. Her gaze drifted past him and locked onto three old men seated in the middle of the table.

Marquess Claude Hawthorne, Earl Vincent Voss, and Finance Minister Howard Stanley were the three surviving nobles from Operation Harvest’s hidden list.

Claude was gaunt and vulture-eyed. Vincent had the belly of a man who’d never missed a meal, his face wearing an air of genial, businesslike friendliness. Howard kept his head bent over the documents in front of him, barely noticeable.

Ten years, and these three had not only survived-they’d thrived at the heart of Imperial power.

Margaret looked at them, and in her mind she saw that cold, clinical entry from the archive-“Cleanup was completed to full satisfaction.” Then came the image Tyrone and Quentin had described: a world devoured under a spreading green nightmare.

She laughed. The sound wasn’t loud, but it cut through the silence of the chamber and stopped Darien mid-sentence.

“What are you laughing at?” Darien’s brow furrowed.

“Nothing, I just find all of you very interesting,” Margaret let the smile drop and straightened in her chair, tapping her fingers against the table. “Prince Darien, you were saying you want to form a Regency Council. Carve up my authority. Is that right?”

“It’s for the stability of the Empire.” Darien delivered the line with righteous conviction.

“Fine.” Margaret agreed so quickly and so cleanly that every person in the room froze.

Darien’s carefully prepared counter-arguments lodged in his throat.

“I do have one condition, though.” Margaret pointed at the three names on her list. “I’ve got a bad temper, and I don’t like looking at ugly faces. These three are an eyesore. Strip them of their titles, kic