Chapter 59 What’s for Dinner
Chapter 59 What’s for Dinner
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Margaret hummed a little tune to herself as she grabbed an apple, rinsed it under the kitchen faucet, and took a big bite. The sweet juice burst in her mouth. It had been so long since she’d had any fruit.
“Host! A fresh apple!” Primo was practically drooling. “Eat an extra bite for me.”
Margaret ignored it, polished off the apple in three quick bites, and methodically stuffed the rest of the ingredients into the fridge. The once-empty refrigerator was now packed to the brim, and just looking at it made her feel good.
After she’d eaten her fill, she stepped out into the yard. The sunlight was perfect. She walked a couple of laps around the crooked tree, then browsed on the Interstellar Forum and picked out a natural wood colored swing set. She entered her address and placed the order.
She stood in the yard soaking up the sun for a while, then turned to head back inside. Halfway there, she stopped.
She remembered that she still had some things left at Cheiron’s villa. Yesterday, she’d only meant to come look at the properties. She hadn’t expected to fall for the first one so completely, so she hadn’t bothered grabbing her luggage.
“Primo, I need to go back to Cheiron’s to get my stuff,” She announced in her head.
“Get what stuff, host?!” Primo was indignant, its voice squawking in her mind. “You’re a rich lady now with a sixty thousand credit monthly salary and a million in savings! You’re 35 class national treasure! Throw away all that cheap junk from the original owner! Let’s buy new stuff, expensive stuff!”
Margaret walked to the couch, sat down, and poured herself a glass of warm water. “The clothes can go, but not the old suitcase. It’s got the original owner’s old diary and photos in it.”
Those things didn’t do Margaret any practical good now, but they were the last remaining traces that the original owner had ever existed. Since she’d taken over this body, she couldn’t just throw away the person’s last memories like garbage.
Primo was stumped for a moment, then offered a suggestion. “Then just send Cheiron a StarChat. Have him bring it over. He’s definitely going to move in with you anyway.”
Margaret’s hand froze mid-sip. “Move in? With me?”
“Well, duh,” Primo said, as if it was obvious. “You’re legally married now. Interstellar law says that successfully matched beastmen have to live with their female.”
Margaret set her glass down on the coffee table with a thunk and sank back into the couch.
“They’re 35 class, Cheiron is a hospital director. Baar is the supreme commander of the Federal Military, And that other guy is some Interstellar Era’s richest man. These people are busy every day. When would they have time to cram into a house with me? Adults should have the understanding to live their own lives and just maintain a surface-level marriage.”
“You’re so naive.” Primo clicked its tongue. “3S-class males are desperate for the soothing of a high-ranking female because of their unstable spiritual power. You’re the only cure in the entire Interstellar Era. They’d keep you on a leash if they could. No way they’re living separately.”
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34 Möh, b
Chapter 59 What’s for Dinner
65%
+20 Free Coins
Margaret was stumped. She’d almost forgotten that she, as their partner, actually had to do some work. She opened StarChat and found Cheiron’s profile picture. Before she could even figure out how to phrase her message, a message from him popped up first.
Cheiron sent, “I received your address. I have several important data points to verify at the Academy of Sciences today, so I’ll be there a bit later. Is there anything you need me to bring on my way?”
The tone was so naturally familiar. Exactly like a husband checking in with his wife at home while he was
out.
Margaret stared at the screen for a few seconds, then typed quickly.
“The luggage I left at your place, Don’t worry about the clothes, just bring the old suitcase. Thanks.”
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