Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 167

Chapter 167 Force Works Better Than Negotiating

Chapter 167 Force Works Better Than Negotiating

Margaret didn’t say a word.

“You’d better stay away from the royal family,” Quentin cut in out of nowhere.

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Margaret stared at him, confused. He barely said two words most days-it was weird to see him speak up to warn her about anything.

Quentin looked away, turning his head to stare out the window,

Tyrone picked up the thread, his tone surprisingly serious for once. “What Quentin is saying is that Prince Greven doesn’t have good intentions. The royal family don’t fight on the front lines every day like Baar. Still, they need military credentials to secure their claim to the throne. The problem is, Prince Greven’s spiritual power is stuck at SS-class. He can’t get matched to a proper female, so he’s too scared to set foot on a battlefield.”

“So… he wants to be one of my husbands?” Margaret frowned.

“Exactly,” Tyrone scoffed. “If he becomes your husband, he doesn’t just fix his spiritual outburst problem- he gets to take over all the power behind you, too. To him, you’re not a real person. You’re just a bargaining chip to keep him on the throne.”

Margaret went quiet. She thought back to that politely worded invitation. Turned out there was a huge trap hidden right under all those nice words.

Tyrone continued, “On top of that, the royal family’s got this gross hang-up-they think their bloodline’s superior to everyone else’s. They require that the female paired to a royal is expected to take brothers from the same bloodline as mates. They call it ‘pure bloodline’ to make it sound fancy. Guys like Baar and Cheiron with real status? He might be wary of them, give them some empty title to keep them quiet. But nobodies like Quentin and me-unknown background’ types…”

He sighed dramatically, looking all wounded and put-upon, “Who knows how hard they’ll push us out? We might wake up one morning and get tossed straight off Prime Planet. Ms. Greene, you wouldn’t let us end up homeless on the streets, would you?”

Margaret huffed, unable to hold back a cold laugh.

She said, “Back where I’m from, only breeding dogs care about stuff like ‘pure bloodlines”.”

Tyrone blinked, clearly not expecting that response. After a split second of surprise, he chuckled. There was a flicker of genuine admiration in his eyes when he looked at Margaret-he didn’t even notice it

himself.

Margaret ignored him and started heading down the stairs. “Save it. We don’t even know who’d end up pushing who around. And besides, you think getting into my house is that easy?”

She walked down fast, with long strides, carrying her quickly. Tyrone glanced over at Quentin, but Quentin’s eyes were locked on her slim figure the whole time. He didn’t look away until she vanished around the corner at the bottom of the stairs,

“Quit staring and come eat. You’re practically drooling.” Tyrone clapped Quentin on the shoulder, exasperated by how obvious he was being.

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Chapter 167 Force Works Better Than Negotiating

By the time Margaret sat down at the dining table, the butler had already set out breakfast.

Her Holo-bracelet buzzed once. It was a StarChat message from Cheiron.

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Cheiron typed, “Not heading to the hospital today. Working on some stuff in the study. Tyrone and Quentin haven’t left yet. It’s not safe for you to be alone with them. Call me if you need anything, anytime.”

Margaret pressed her lips together briefly and typed back, “Okay.”

to Baar’s back

She took a bite of bread, but her mind drifted back to Baar’s back as he’d left the night before.

That idiot had run off in the middle of the night to argue with those old men on the Council, and he still wasn’t back. She had no idea how it was going. And more importantly, the toxin in his system still hadn’t been cured.

She hesitated for a second, then tapped on Baar’s profile.

Margaret typed, “You done with the meeting yet? If it’s too much on your body, just come home first. No

rush.”

She sent the message, but got no reply.

Margaret set down her Holo-bracelet. A faint, hollow feeling settled in her chest for no real reason. Waiting still sucked, plain and simple.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Tyrone and Quentin walked down, one right after the other.

They sat down at the table, and the air turned weird for a second.

“What worried about Commander Iverson?” Tyrone glanced at the Holo-bracelet on the table and asked casually.

“Eat your food.” Margaret didn’t even look up.

“Those old farts on the Federal Military Council? Total pain in the ass.” Tyrone grabbed a slice of toast and spread butter on it slowly and lazily. “But with a temper like Commander Iverson’s? He’ll probably just flip the table and call it a day. Sometimes force works better than negotiating.”

Margaret ignored his teasing.

She looked up at the two sitting across from her.

“How much pull do you two have in the black market? Got a lot of eyes and ears out there?” she asked out of the blue.

Tyrone stopped mid-motion, looking at her with obvious interest. “What, you looking to hire us?”

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