Galaxy's Only Triple-S: Five Lords Can't Hold Her novel Chapter 226

Chapter 226 A Paradox

Chapter 226 A Paradox

Cheiron didn’t answer. His gaze dropped to her open collar, then lifted back to her face.

Margaret stepped back and let him in.

The door sealed shut behind them, the soundproofing deadening every noise from the corridor.

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Cheiron walked to the small sitting area and settled into the armchair, crossing his long legs with easy composure. He twisted open the metal tin in his hand, and a faint herbal scent drifted into the air.

“Central Hospital’s formula. Designed for…” He paused. “Bruises.”

He looked up at her, his smile gentle but carrying a quiet steadiness that didn’t plan on being refused.

Margaret stayed where she was and tugged at her collar. “No need. They’ll fade in a couple of days.”

Cheiron let out a soft sigh and reached out, wrapping his fingers around her wrist. He pulled, just enough.

Margaret was still unsteady from the night before-her legs weak, her lower back aching from Timothy’s relentless attention-and the sudden tug threw her off balance. She stumbled forward with a startled gasp and landed squarely in Cheiron’s lap.

She froze for a beat, already moving to push herself up.

“Don’t move.” His arm had already circled her waist, holding her in place. Even through the thin silk, the heat of his skin was startling.

His expression stayed perfectly composed-all restraint and propriety-as if pulling her onto his lap was purely a matter of medical convenience.

“Timothy doesn’t know his own strength. The blood’s pooled under the skin. If I don’t work the bruising out properly, it’ll ache tomorrow.”

The reasoning left no room for argument. Margaret went still, then stopped fighting it.

Cheiron dipped his fingertip into the clear ointment and pressed it gently against the mark on her collarbone. His head stayed bent, his movements slow and careful as he worked the medicine into her skin. His fingertips traced over the sensitive skin, and a shiver ran through her.

“Norman is a female,” Cheiron said.

Margaret hadn’t planned on hiding it from him. She nodded. “You figured it out.”

“Central Brain data can’t be falsified.” His fingers moved in small, soothing circles along her collarbone. “Lesley classified Norman’s genetic records at the highest level. Even the Academy of Sciences has no

access.”

He paused. “That kind of protection-hiding something so deliberately-is an answer in itself. And a six- year-old male prince doesn’t need round-the-clock female attendants. Imperial protocol. Males are expected to live independently from age five. Lesley covered her tracks well, but the pattern of behavior doesn’t add up.”

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Chapter 226 A Paradox

Margaret nodded but didn’t respond.

“Do you want to wear the crown?” he asked suddenly.

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Margaret looked at his face, so close to hers, and smiled. She decided to test him. “If I said yes, would you kill Norman for me? That’s regicide. It wouldn’t just be you-your whole family would be dragged down with it.”

Cheiron didn’t answer right away. His hands never stopped moving, and under the medicine’s effect, the scattered bruises and teeth marks were fading visibly before her eyes.

He worked with quiet focus, his breath warm against the curve of her neck.

When the ointment was finished, he picked up a napkin and wiped his hands with unhurried care. “You wouldn’t want her dead.” He lifted his eyes and held her gaze. “She’s innocent. She’s no threat. That’s not who you are.”

Margaret stared back at him. “And if I insisted?”

Cheiron smiled. The curve of his eyes softened the cool, distant lines of his face. “That’s a paradox, Margaret.” He said her name like it mattered. “I could never fall in love with a woman who murdered the innocent.”

He paused, and the smile faded. “But if she truly stood in your way-if you made the decision to act-1 would.”

I’d dirty my hands with the blood you couldn’t bear to spill.

Margaret fell silent. Something deep in her chest shifted, a quiet tremor she couldn’t name.

Cheiron gathered her up and carried her through to the bed, setting her down gently on the edge of the

mattress.

“Get some rest.” He straightened and smoothed the creases from his pajamas, already turning to leave.

Margaret watched his back and reached out, catching his wrist. She didn’t say anything, but the pull of her hand was clear enough.

Cheiron stopped immediately. He turned around, and his gray eyes darkened-all the jealousy and hunger he’d been forcing down surged to the surface at once,

He reversed his grip and caught her hand, bending low as his other hand slid to the back of her head and pulled her into a deep, heavy kiss. His breath came rough against her cheek, each exhale searing hot.

He kissed her like he was erasing every trace left by someone else, branding his own mark into her skin inch by inch.

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