Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 222

Chapter 222 Thar’s Going to Cost Extra

Chapter 222 That’s Going to Cost Extra

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Margaret ran her fingers through Norman’s red hair. It was soft, like baby animal fur,

“No,” she said, and her voice came out gentler than she meant it to. “As long as I’m here, no one can touch you.”

Norman gave a nod. He unwrapped a gummy, stuck it in his mouth, and his cheek puffed out.

The car pulled into the villa compound. The gates swung open, and Tyrone and Quentin were already out in the courtyard waiting.

Tyrone watched Margaret climb out with a red-haired kid right behind her. His eyebrow arched and he strolled over.

“Ms. Greene. You leave for a few hours and you bring back a whole child?” He bent down, studying Norman with open curiosity. “That hair and those eyes, though. Imperial blood, no question.”

Norman wasn’t the least bit intimidated. He met Tyrone’s stare head-on with that same gold gaze.

“This is Norman, the new Emperor of the Empire.” Margaret pulled Norman behind her, putting herself between the boy and Tyrone’s lazy, shameless scrutiny. “He’ll be living here from now on. You two are responsible for his safery. And whether your records ever get wiped clean-well, that’s up to him.”

Tyrone straightened and rubbed his chin. “So the head of the black market gets demoted to bodyguard for a tiny emperor. You know that’s going to cost extra, right?”

Quentin walked over, aimed an icy look at his brother, then turned to Margaret. “Okay.”

There were six rooms on the second floor. Margaret had the master suite. Timothy, Cheiron, and Baar each had one of their own. That left two-originally meant for Tyrone and Quentin. Except the twins had shared one from the moment they moved in.

Margaret had asked about it at the time. “You’re not using the one next door?”

Tyrone had answered without missing a beat. “Quentin doesn’t sleep well. Someone’s got to keep an eye on him.”

Quentin, deadpan as always, had added two words, “Old habit.”

Margaret hadn’t pushed it. Those two were practically glued together anyway.

So now, there was exactly one room left on the second floor.

Norman stood in front of the door, craning his head back to examine the sensor light above the frame. It blinked, and the door slid open on its own. Inside, the bed was made fresh, the curtains half-drawn, and the view looked out over the garden strip below.

“This one’s yours,” Margaret said from behind him.

Norman stepped inside and took it all in with a slow spin. He was so small that even right up against the floor-to-ceiling window, he barely came up to the sill.

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Chapter 222 That’s Going to Cost Extra

“It’s big.” he assessed.

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Timothy leaned against the doorframe and jerked his chin toward the interior. “The rooms at the palace are way bigger than this.”

Norman turned to look at him and shook his head, very serious. “The palace rooms are big. But they’re cold. This one has sunlight.”

Timothy opened his mouth, then shut it again.

Margaret walked inside and pulled the curtains the rest of the way open. Sunlight spilled across the cool gray carpet and chased away the cold stillness of an unused room.

“If he needs anything, buy it,” she said over her shoulder to Timothy.

Timothy straightened, looking personally wounded. “My Lady, I’m your husband. Not his personal shopper.”

Margaret ignored him.

Norman spoke up instead, his voice small but perfectly steady, “I don’t need anything.”

He stood in the middle of the room, still clutching the box of gummies he’d barely touched. His small frame cast a long shadow across the floor. He looked just a little lonely.

Margaret watched him for two seconds.

“Swap the mattress for a softer one,” she said, turning back to Timothy. “Add a child’s toiletry kit, and three changes of clothes in his size.”

Timothy already had his Holo-bracelet out, swiping through menus and muttering, “Fine, fine, I’ll get handled. Want me to throw in one of those smart nanny bots? Latest Academy of Sciences model-does childcare, bedtime stories, vitals monitoring, auto temp control.”

it

“No.” Norman said.

He walked over to Margaret and tugged at the hem of her coat,

“Margaret, I don’t want a robot.”

Margaret looked down. Norman’s gold eyes were clear and earnest, not a trace of whining in them.

“Alright,” she said.

Tyrone had wandered up and draped his arm over the doorframe, leaning in to peer at the room. “The little emperor all settled in?”

Norman turned to look at him.

Tyrone grinned and waved. “Hey, kid. My brother and I are right next door. You get scared at night, just

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