Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: The Most Overprotected Orphanage Tour in History

After running around like absolute maniacs for what felt like hours, we finally collapsed onto the orphanage steps, catching our breath.

Riven, still dramatically gasping for air, groaned, “I have never run this much in my life.”

I grinned. “That’s because you usually run from things, not for fun.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

Mara, still standing nearby, smirked. “I think it builds character.”

Elira, who had resigned herself to watching the chaos unfold, added, “It builds something, at least.”

Before Riven could formulate a snarky response, the orphanage matron stepped forward hesitantly. “Would you… like to see the orphanage, Your Highness?”

I perked up immediately. “Oh! Yes!”

Riven groaned. “Oh no.”

I turned to him. “What? I wanna see where you live.”

He ran a hand down his face. “You don’t understand. My place is very normal. Boring, even.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So why do you look like you’re about to die of embarrassment?”

Riven made a vague strangled noise before sighing in defeat. “Fine. I’ll give you a tour.”

This should have been simple.

But, of course, nothing is simple when my family is involved.

The moment Riven turned toward the orphanage door, my entire royal entourage shifted with surgical precision.

Verania and Sylvithra my highly overprotective mothers closed the distance between me and Riven instantly.

Saelira and Ilythia followed with graceful but deadly efficiency.

Eryndor and Veylen, who had been standing several feet away, also subtly repositioned themselves.

By the time Riven actually reached the entrance, he realized too late that he was now completely surrounded by six of the most powerful people in the empire.

He slowly turned to me. “…Is this necessary?”

I glanced behind me.

Six royal figures, staring with intense scrutiny.

“…No idea what you’re talking about,” I said quickly.

Riven groaned again before pushing open the door. “Fine. Welcome to the most average building in existence.”

We stepped inside.

The orphanage was small but cozy. The walls were lined with handmade decorations, some a bit faded with age, but still clearly loved. The scent of warm bread and ink lingered in the air, and a small fireplace crackled near the sitting area.

Riven gestured vaguely. “This is the main hall. It’s where we eat, read, and occasionally fight over blankets.”

Saelira tilted her head. “Fight?”

Riven coughed. “By fight, I mean, uh… debate.”

Eryndor raised an eyebrow. “You debate with your fists?”

Riven laughed nervously. “…Maybe.”

The orphanage matron immediately stepped in, clearly trying to keep things diplomatic. “Oh, they’re just children. A bit of roughhousing is normal.”

Verania smirked. “She’s not wrong.”

Sylvithra shot her a look.

I grinned. “Show me where you sleep!”

Riven froze.

For a moment, he looked like he genuinely considered running.

“…Do I have to?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

Riven muttered, clearly regretting everything. “Because you’re gonna make fun of it.”

Now I was curious.

I grabbed his wrist and dragged him down the hall. “Too bad, I wanna see it!”

We entered a small, shared dormitory.

It was lined with several beds, neatly made, with various personal belongings scattered around.

Riven pointed to the top bunk of one of the rickety wooden beds. “That’s mine.”

I stared.

Then I grinned.

“…Riven.”

He groaned. “What.”

“Why does your bed look like it’s held together by hope and prayers?”

Mara snorted.

Elira covered her mouth, failing to hide her amusement.

Riven dramatically flopped onto the mattress which immediately let out a concerning creak.

“I know,” he sighed. “It’s a death trap.”

Saelira frowned. “This will not do.”

Ilythia nodded in agreement. “Unacceptable conditions.”

Veylen observed the structural integrity of the bunk. “…I am amazed it is still standing.”

Eryndor crossed his arms. “It won’t be for long.”

Riven sat up, suddenly panicking. “Wait. What do you mean it won’t be for long?”

Before he could fully process the incoming catastrophe, Saelira clapped her hands once.

Immediately, a golden ripple of magic spread through the air.

Riven’s bed no, the entire dormitory transformed in an instant.

The once-rickety bunks vanished, replaced by luxurious, sturdy beds lined with thick blankets.

The walls were cleaned and reinforced, the floors polished to perfection, and the dim lighting brightened with soft enchanted lanterns.

Riven’s jaw dropped.

The matron nearly fainted.

The other orphans, who had just entered the room, let out a collective gasp.

One kid immediately flopped onto a newly transformed bed and sighed. “I’m never getting up.”

Riven turned to me, horrified. “They just remodeled the orphanage.”

I shrugged. “Welcome to my life.”

Verania smirked. “See? You should be thanking us.”

Sylvithra sighed, rubbing her temples. “We cannot go anywhere without altering the economy.”

Riven looked at me, dead serious. “I think your family is about to adopt the whole orphanage.”

I considered it.

“…That tracks.”

Mara, watching the absolute chaos unfold, muttered, “I’m so glad I came today.”

Elira just whispered, “I need another raise.”

Riven sighed deeply, sitting back on his brand-new luxury mattress.

“Well,” he muttered. “At least now my bed won’t kill me in my sleep.”

And honestly?

That was probably the best outcome he could’ve hoped for.

With the dormitory now looking like a royal guest suite, the tour continued.

Riven, still in visible shock, led the way toward the kitchen, though he kept glancing over his shoulder, as if he expected my grandparents to materialize a new castle behind him at any moment.

“Okay,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “We’re just going to the kitchen. Nothing dramatic should happen there.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

He didn’t answer.

When we stepped into the orphanage’s kitchen, I could immediately tell why Riven had hesitated.

It was… functional, but just barely.

The stone countertops were worn, the firewood stove looked ancient, and the pantry shelves though stocked held mostly cheap grains, root vegetables, and dried meats.

The cook, a grizzled older woman, turned as we entered, then immediately dropped her ladle upon seeing my entire royal entourage standing in the doorway.

“Your Majesties,” she choked out, scrambling to bow. “I—Apologies—This is—”

Saelira stepped forward, taking in the sight with her usual unreadable expression.

Ilythia scanned the room with a quiet, assessing gaze.

Eryndor frowned at the wooden cutting boards that looked like they had seen battle.

Veylen, ever pragmatic, walked toward the pantry, opened it, and said bluntly:

“This is unacceptable.”

Riven, who had been hoping to avoid another remodeling situation, immediately raised his hands. “Okay! Hold on! It’s not that bad!”

Eryndor ignored him entirely. “You are feeding a building full of children with these supplies?”

The cook, visibly sweating, nodded hesitantly. “We… we make do.”

Veylen’s expression darkened. “You should not have to.”

Saelira, already making calculations in her mind, turned to the matron. “How much funding does the orphanage receive annually?”

The matron fidgeted. “W-We receive a stipend from the noble council, but… well, it is not always consistent.”

I could feel my family’s patience wearing thin.

Ilythia, ever composed, gave a serene smile. “Then that will change.”

Verania, who had been unusually quiet, leaned casually against the doorframe. “Yes, let’s start by increasing the budget. A hundredfold should do it.”

Sylvithra, without missing a beat, added, “Two hundredfold.”

Riven choked. “WHAT?”

The orphanage matron looked like she might faint.

Eryndor nodded. “We will also ensure proper renovations. This kitchen is outdated. The children deserve better.”

Veylen was already scribbling something in a notebook. “We will have architects brought in. And the staff will be properly compensated.”

The cook, still staring in disbelief, clutched her chest. “I—I need to sit down.”

I turned to Riven. “Are you okay?”

He was not okay.

“I don’t know how to react,” he muttered, watching in real time as my family completely overturned the orphanage’s financial situation.

Mara whispered, “This is like watching a political coup.”

Elira nodded. “Except the victims are… benefitting?”

Meanwhile, the parents who had actually agreed to place Riven in this orphanage in the first place?

Not happy.

I could practically see the tension in Verania and Sylvithra’s postures.

They didn’t say anything outright, but the moment Riven so much as glanced in my direction, Verania’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Sylvithra’s grip tightened on her fan.

And when Riven accidentally bumped into me, both of my mothers simultaneously took a sharp step forward, as if preparing to yeet him into another dimension.

Riven noticed.

Riven panicked.

He immediately moved five feet away.

“Y’know what?” he said quickly. “I think this is a great time to, uh… end the tour.”

I sighed. “Are my parents scaring you?”

“Yes.”

I turned to them. “Can you stop terrifying my only friend?”

Verania smiled. “No.”

Sylvithra sipped her tea. “Absolutely not.”

Riven groaned. “Fantastic.”

As my grandparents finalized plans to pour an astronomical sum of money into the orphanage, I realized something important.

This was supposed to be a simple visit.

And somehow, in the span of an hour, my family had:

1. Remodeled an entire dormitory.

2. Quadrupled the funding for the orphanage.

3. Planned a full-scale renovation.

4. Made Riven more terrified than he’d ever been in his life.

I sighed, watching the chaos unfold.

Mara leaned over and whispered, “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you think Riven regrets meeting you?”

I glanced at my very nervous best friend.

“…At least a nine.”