Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 204

Chapter 204 The Golden Rule of Negotiation

Chapter 204 The Golden Rule of Negotiation

+30 Free Coins

A cold, rasping laugh escaped Lesley. “A deal? You’re a fugitive wanted across the entire galaxy. What exactly do you have to bargain with? Even if I die, the Empire still has nobles with deep roots. The throne will never fall into the hands of an outsider.”

“Don’t delude yourself, Your Majesty.” Margaret’s voice stayed calm, but every word cut deep. “Greven is dead. His faction has turned against you. Prime Planet’s City Defense forces have been cut in half, and the starport is paralyzed. Meanwhile, on your border, the Federation’s First Fleet is running live-fire exercises. If Baar punches through that defense line, there won’t be an Empire anymore-just the Federation. Do you plan on holding off Federation warships with your ‘nobles of deep roots? Or with your six-year-old Prince Norman?”

Lesley stared at the screen, her bony fingers clutching tight at the bedsheets. She was a seasoned politician. She understood the Empire’s position better than anyone, and she knew exactly how desperate it was.

“I am the only SSS-class female in the galaxy.” Margaret laid her cards on the table. “Timothy, heir to the Hurst Group, is my husband. His resources alone could plug the Empire’s financial shortfall overnight. Baar, commander of the Federation, is also my husband. With one word from me, his warships will pull back from your borders. The black market’s intelligence network and the Academy of Sciences’ resources are both in my hands.”

She paused, meeting Lesley’s eyes. “You have no other option, Your Majesty. No one else can hold the Empire together. You can refuse me now for the sake of your pride, drag your empire down with you, and I’ll simply move on. I’ll go somewhere else and continue living my life.”

That was the golden rule of negotiation: convince the other side that one had nothing to lose, while the other could not afford to walk away.

Lesley lay limp against the pillows, staring at the young, striking woman on the screen-the one who held every card. Perhaps she had once looked like that herself.

“Fine,” Lesley closed her eyes, and the single word seemed to sap the last of her strength. “I will grant you the regency. I’ll issue a full pardon and clear your name. But you must swear to me-keep Prince Norman alive.”

The condition caught Margaret off guard. She had expected Lesley to demand the throne for her son. Instead, all she wanted was the boy’s life.

“Done.” Margaret stood. “I’ll arrive at Prime Planet in one week. By then, I expect the decree to have reached every corner of the galaxy.”

The channel cut. Silence settled back over the underground comms room.

“Ms. Greene, did you just take the Empire?” Tyrone tutted in admiration, his green eyes bright as he looked at her. “You walked in with nothing and walked out with a throne. I have to hand it to you.”

“Not nothing.” Margaret turned toward the door, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You gave me all the pieces to make this work.”

“We leave in a week.” Margaret stepped out onto the flagstone path, the night breeze sweeping away the stale air of the underground chamber.

1/2

13.16 Mon, 6 Jul G.

Chapter 204 The Golden Rule of Negotiation

56%

+30 Free Coins

Tyrone kept pace beside her, his steps unhurried. “Lesley’s pardon won’t be issued until Cheiron reaches Prime Planet and stabilizes her condition. But even then, the decree is one thing. Whether you’ll actually hold that regent’s seat is another”

“I know.” Margaret didn’t look back. “Greven’s remnants, the ministers who escaped, the nobles with their tangled interests on Prime Planet–they won’t let an outsider sit above them without a fight.”

Tyrone quickened his pace and stepped in front of her, blocking her path. He pulled a black crystalline shard from his pocket and held it out.

Margaret stopped. Her eyes fell to the crystal.

“Twelve sectors across the galaxy. Seventy-three underground trade hubs. Three hundred and twenty core operatives—their identities, their access codes, all of it.” Tyrone’s tone was casual, almost offhand. “Every asset the black market has. It’s all in here.”

Margaret didn’t take it right away. This was the empire Tyrone and Quentin had built with their own hands, clawing their way through the dark for years. Now he was handing it all over without batting an eye.

“What’s this supposed to be?” She met his eyes. “An investment?”

“Call it my pledge of loyalty.” Tyrone stepped closer, her reflection clear in his green eyes. “You’re bold enough to swallow an empire. What’s a little black-market operation compared to that? I’m already yours. The money and the power may as well follow.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify