Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 59
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- Chapter 59 - Chapter 59: The Art of Deception
Chapter 59: The Art of Deception
By the end of the game, I had lost miserably but I had also laughed more in one hour than I had in the entire day.
I barely had time to process that rare moment of lightness before a familiar voice echoed in my mind.
[ New Mission: Win at least one round of this game. You’re embarrassing me. ]
I choked.
I didn’t even have time to argue before the system continued.
[ Reward: A new skill Political Acumen (Passive). Your ability to detect lies, manipulate negotiations, and navigate royal court intrigue will improve. Because, let’s be honest, you need it. ]
I straightened in my chair.
That… was actually useful.
Winning a game of cards might not sound like the most dignified way to unlock a political ability, but I wasn’t about to question the system’s logic. If it wanted to hand me an advantage in this absurd court of tyranny, I was taking it.
I glanced at my mother, who was absentmindedly twirling a coin between her fingers while she observed me with a knowing smirk.
Sylvithra, ever composed, shuffled the deck with a casual elegance that spoke of far too much experience.
Elira had a look of quiet resignation.
Mara, despite her best efforts to remain neutral, looked deeply concerned.
Right. Time to win.
The next round began, and I watched.
Not the cards no, no. That was a rookie mistake.
I watched them.
Their tells.
Verania was too confident. If she had a truly unbeatable hand, she’d have toned it down just enough to lull us into a false sense of security. The fact that she was openly smirking meant she was bluffing.
Sylvithra, on the other hand, was unreadable. The only indication that she might be lying was the way she adjusted the sleeve of her gown a small, deliberate motion.
Elira looked like she was calculating the fastest way to escape this table.
Mara… was just praying to whatever gods still listened to her.
I played my first card.
Sylvithra’s eyebrow arched slightly.
Verania let out a pleased hum.
“Interesting choice,” my mother mused.
I kept my expression neutral. “I figured I’d try something new.”
Elira stiffened.
Mara’s eyes widened slightly, as if I had just declared war.
Verania grinned. “Oh, this just got fun.”
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I had no idea what I was doing.
But I looked like I did.
And that was enough to make them hesitate.
We played through the next few rounds, and I held my own. Not spectacularly, not flawlessly, but I wasn’t losing as badly as before.
[ You’re improving. Slightly. ]
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
[ You should thank me when you win. ]
I would. Because I would win.
I was not about to let these people tyrants, rulers, and seasoned manipulators run circles around me forever.
So I adapted. I bluffed. I studied their patterns, their tendencies, their moments of hesitation.
Verania was the wildcard. She enjoyed chaos, but it was calculated chaos. She liked pushing buttons.
Sylvithra was control. Absolute and unwavering. If she ever showed her hand, it was because she wanted you to see it.
Elira was playing as if her entire career depended on it.
Mara just wanted this to end.
And me?
I was learning.
I folded when I needed to, pushed when I saw an opening. I took risks, let them believe I was making reckless choices until I wasn’t.
Verania narrowed her eyes. “You’re hiding something.”
I smiled sweetly. “Am I?”
Sylvithra hummed. “She’s catching on.”
Elira whispered, “This is terrifying.”
Mara put her head in her hands.
We reached the final round of the game.
The tension thickened.
Verania played her hand first, revealing a nearly unbeatable set.
Sylvithra followed, her cards just slightly better.
Elira hesitated, then laid hers down safe, reasonable.
Mara… was simply relieved to be out of the game.
It was my turn.
I exhaled slowly, then placed my cards down.
The room fell silent.
Verania laughed.
Not a mocking laugh. Not a condescending one.
A genuine, delighted laugh.
“You little menace!” she exclaimed.
Sylvithra leaned forward, inspecting my cards with a slow nod of approval. “Impressive.”
Elira whispered, “She won.”
Mara sank into her chair, utterly defeated.
[ Congratulations. You are now slightly more competent at deception. ]
The system’s voice rang in my mind, and with it, a new message appeared.
[ New Skill Acquired: Political Acumen (Passive).
Your ability to detect lies, manipulate conversations, and navigate royal court intrigue has improved. ]
I smirked, pleased.
Verania rested her chin on her hand, watching me with undisguised amusement. “You might just be my favorite child.”
“You only have one child,” I pointed out.
She shrugged. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”
Sylvithra smiled fondly. “You’re learning, Elyzara. And that is all we can ask for.”
I glanced at my cards one last time, then at my family my completely insane, incredibly dangerous, but undeniably entertaining family.
Winning a simple game of cards wasn’t exactly the same as winning the game of politics.
But it was a start.
And I had a feeling…
This wouldn’t be my last gamble.
But for now, it seemed I had earned myself a reward.
Verania clapped her hands together, her smirk widening. “Well, I suppose this calls for a celebration.”
I blinked. “A celebration? For winning one card game?”
Sylvithra, ever composed, simply nodded. “You won against us. That is no small feat.”
Verania’s grin turned wicked. “Besides, dear, do you know how rare it is for us to actually reward people instead of terrifying them into obedience?”
Elira muttered, “You do reward people by not executing them.”
Verania waved a dismissive hand. “Semantics.”
Mara sighed. “So… what kind of celebration are we talking about?”
“A picnic,” Sylvithra said smoothly, as if she hadn’t just declared something completely ridiculous.
I stared.
Verania perked up. “Oh, I love that idea!”
Elira froze.
Mara looked concerned.
And me? I was just confused.
“A… picnic?” I repeated. “As in… sitting on the ground? Eating outside?”
Verania sighed dramatically. “Yes, darling, as horrifying as that sounds, even we occasionally enjoy fresh air.”
“Are you sure?” I deadpanned. “I was under the impression you thrived in dramatic lighting and ominous castle interiors.”
Sylvithra raised a brow. “We do. But variety is important.”
Elira muttered something about the world ending.
Mara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Where would this picnic even be?”
Verania hummed. “Somewhere scenic. Somewhere private.”
“Somewhere that can withstand collateral damage,” Sylvithra added.
I frowned. “Why would there be collateral—”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Verania said smoothly.
I worried.
Within minutes, servants had been summoned, preparations were underway, and a very large amount of food was being packed into luxurious baskets embroidered with the royal crest.
It was happening.
We were actually going on a picnic.
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