Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 63

Chapter 63: Tyrant Training
Oh no.

This would not end well.

I could already see it the dangerous gleam in my parents’ eyes, the way my grandparents exchanged knowing glances, the sheer anticipation radiating from my entire bloodline.

I had unintentionally made the mistake of proving that I was competent.

Which, in this family, meant only one thing:

More training.

More lessons.

More tyrant grooming.

I took a deep breath, clasping my hands together with as much calm as I could muster. “I handled one noble tax proposal. That doesn’t mean I’m ready for anything excessive.”

Saelira smiled in a way that immediately put me on edge. “Excessive? Oh, little one, we are merely ensuring your future success.”

Verania sipped her wine, looking entirely too pleased. “Besides, the nobles must understand where they stand. A ruler should never let them get too comfortable.”

Eryndor nodded approvingly. “A demonstration of authority is necessary from time to time.”

Sylvithra leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “How do you feel about orchestrating a political coup?”

I stared.

Smaug, still lounging in my arms, perked up in delight. “Oh, I like where this is going.”

[ Absolutely not. ]

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I am five.”

Saelira waved off my concerns. “Yes, yes, but you’re our five-year-old.”

Ilythia, who had been silent until now, added, “Which means expectations are higher.”

Veylen, ever the tactician, steepled his fingers together. “A small coup. Just to test your strategic thinking.”

A small coup.

As if those words belonged together.

I exhaled slowly, trying to process the absurdity. “And if I refuse?”

Verania grinned. “You won’t.”

Smaug cackled.

I groaned.

An hour later, I found myself seated in the war room, a massive strategy table in front of me.

A map of the kingdom was spread out, detailing the different provinces, noble territories, and potential weaknesses in their governance. Small, elegant figurines representing military forces, economic centers, and key political figures were meticulously placed across the board.

I leaned forward, already regretting my existence. “So. What exactly am I expected to do?”

Sylvithra tapped a clawed finger against the board. “The northern duchy has been getting ideas. Their influence has been growing, and their Duke has been gathering allies.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean he’s gaining power outside of your control?”

Eryndor smirked. “Precisely.”

Saelira, as graceful as ever, delicately picked up the Duke’s figurine and turned it between her fingers. “He is useful. For now. But we must ensure he remains… manageable.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And my role in this?”

Verania grinned, clearly entertained. “Your task is to come up with a method to remind him of his place.”

[ Translation: You have to terrify this man into submission. ]

I stared at the map. Stared at my gleeful family. Stared at Smaug, who was way too interested in this.

This was fine.

This was completely normal.

Just another Tuesday in my life.

I sighed. “Fine. Let’s begin.”

♛

Over the next two hours, I developed a plan.

The goal was clear destabilize the Duke’s growing confidence without completely eliminating him. He needed to know that his power was borrowed, his influence conditional, and his life entirely in our hands.

Smaug offered constant, mostly unhelpful suggestions.

“Can we set something on fire?”

“No.”

“Assassination?”

“Too soon.”

“Send him a gift that is secretly a curse?”

I paused. “…Actually, that might work.”

Sylvithra looked intrigued. “Oh?”

I leaned forward. “A subtle approach. We send him a gift something rare, valuable. A symbol of favor.”

Veylen, always the strategist, nodded. “And within it?”

“A message.” I tapped the map. “A curse, but not one that actively harms. Something psychological. A whisper of danger. Something that reminds him that we are watching, that we could crush him at any time, but choose not to.”

Eryndor’s grin widened. “Oh, she’s brilliant.”

Ilythia hummed. “That is an effective display of power.”

Verania, clearly delighted, reached out and ruffled my hair. “Our little tyrant is learning well.”

[ You are getting terrifyingly good at this. ]

I ignored that.

Sylvithra leaned back, looking genuinely pleased. “We will arrange it.”

Smaug nudged me. “I still vote for fire.”

I patted its head. “Not this time.”

The dragon grumbled.

I exhaled, finally relaxing. “So… is that all for today?”

Verania and Sylvithra exchanged a look.

I immediately regretted my question.

Saelira smiled sweetly. “Not quite, dear. We have one more lesson.”

I knew it.

I braced myself. “What is it?”

Veylen smirked. “Your first political dinner.”

I froze.

Smaug perked up. “Is that where you get to insult people for fun?”

Sylvithra smiled.

This would not end well.

A political dinner.

Which, in this family, meant a battlefield with better table settings.

I exhaled slowly, resisting the urge to bury my face in my hands. “And when, exactly, is this dinner?”

Saelira, ever the picture of elegance and cruelty, smiled. “Tonight.”

Smaug perked up. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

[ For once, I agree with the lizard. This is going to be a disaster. ]

I ignored them both.

“So.” I folded my hands together, forcing myself to sound calm. “You expect me to attend, smile, and… what? Intimidate people over soup?”

Veylen chuckled. “More or less.”

Sylvithra smirked. “Think of it as practice. You must learn to navigate politics as effortlessly as you do combat.”

I almost choked. “I am five.”

Verania took a long sip of her wine, completely unfazed. “And?”

I had no response to that.

Because, really, what could I say?

I was five.

But I was also their daughter.

Which meant expectations were… different.

I sighed. “Alright. What do I need to know?”

Ilythia smiled. “The guest list.”

Eryndor placed a parchment in front of me, elegantly written in gold ink.

I scanned the names. Dukes, counts, influential nobles all powerful, all dangerous.

And at the top of the list—

“The Duke of Orvane,” I muttered. “The same one we just dealt with?”

Verania grinned. “Yes.”

Sylvithra smirked. “It will be interesting to see how he behaves.”

I leaned back in my chair, processing. This wasn’t just dinner. It was a test.

The nobles weren’t coming to celebrate anything.

They were coming to observe.

To see if the tiny princess sitting at the table could truly be a threat.

I let out a slow breath. “Fine. But I’m not wearing a dress.”

Saelira laughed. “Of course not, dear. We’ve already prepared your attire.”

Smaug tilted his head. “Will it make people fear you?”

I glanced at my parents.

Sylvithra’s grin was conspiratorial.

Verania looked too pleased.

I sighed. “Oh, definitely.”

Three hours later, I stood before a mirror, trying to decide whether to be impressed or horrified.

My outfit was how did I even describe it?

Militaristic. Regal. Terrifying.

The jacket was a deep shade of midnight black, embroidered with silver accents in the shape of dragons. The high collar added an extra layer of authority, while the fitted trousers and knee-high boots made it impossible to mistake me for anything less than a ruler in the making.

A crimson-lined cape flowed from my shoulders, fastened by a silver chain shaped like dragon wings. And the final touch a silver pauldron on my right shoulder, engraved with ancient sigils.

I narrowed my eyes at my reflection. “I look like I’m about to start a war.”

[ Exactly the right impression. ]

Smaug huffed. “Not enough fire.”

I ignored him.

Verania, standing beside me, smirked. “You look perfect.”

Sylvithra nodded. “Intimidating, elegant, and untouchable.”

Saelira beamed. “A proper heir.”

I resisted the urge to groan.

There was no escaping this.

The dining hall was grander than usual.

Candlelight flickered against towering marble pillars, casting golden shadows across the room. A massive chandelier, dripping in enchanted crystal, hung above the long table, where seats had been meticulously arranged according to status.

The nobles were already waiting.

I could feel their eyes on me as I entered, my boots clicking against the polished floors.

[ They’re watching you. Judging you. ]

I knew.

I didn’t slow my pace.

Didn’t falter.

I walked with purpose, my expression unreadable.

And when I reached my seat the smaller throne nestled between my parents’ grander ones I sat down without hesitation.

Silence.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then, the Duke of Orvane the same noble we had just humiliated earlier today cleared his throat. “Your Highness,” he greeted, bowing his head slightly. “It is an honor to be in your presence.”

I smiled.

Not kindly.

Not warmly.

Just enough to make him nervous.

“Likewise,” I said smoothly. “I trust your journey was… uneventful?”

His jaw tightened. “Indeed.”

My parents were watching. My grandparents, silent but ever-present.

The game had begun.

The first course was served a rich soup, garnished with gold leaf and spices.

The nobles took cautious sips, eyes flickering between me and my family.

Someone had to break the silence.

It was Zareth.

The demon heir leaned back in his chair, smirking. “So. Do we address the elephant in the room, or should we pretend today didn’t happen?”

The Duke of Orvane stiffened.

I arched a brow. “I wasn’t aware there was an elephant present.”

Zareth grinned. “Oh, my mistake. I meant the complete humiliation of a certain Duke.”

Orvane’s grip on his spoon tightened.

Seraphina sighed. “Must you be so obvious?”

Zareth shrugged. “Where’s the fun in subtlety?”

I swirled my spoon in my soup. “Well. If a certain noble had made better decisions, perhaps there wouldn’t have been an ‘elephant’ to discuss.”

Orvane turned pale.

The other nobles stayed silent.

Verania sipped her wine. “Interesting.”

Sylvithra smirked. “Very.”

Saelira’s eyes gleamed. “I do wonder how future decisions will be handled, now that expectations have been… adjusted.”

Orvane, now visibly sweating, nodded stiffly.

I took a slow sip of my soup, watching.

He had learned his place.

For now.

But there would be others.

There always were.

[ This is only the beginning. ]

I knew.

And somehow, I didn’t mind.