Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 65

Chapter 65: Dragons, Children, and Questionable Decisions
Riven had barely taken his first hesitant bite of pastry when Smaug decided it was time to announce himself more thoroughly to the world. He leaped from my arms, landing on the stone-paved path with a flair that screamed dramatic dragon theatrics.

“Pitiful mortals!” he proclaimed, stretching out his small but impressively intimidating wings. “Behold your new overlord!”

There was a moment of absolute silence, broken only by the soft chirping of birds blissfully unaware of the tiny dragon attempting world domination in their garden. Then every child within sight collectively turned and stared.

Riven looked at me, panic flashing in his eyes. “Elyzara, why is your pet dragon threatening us?”

“Attention,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “He does that when he feels ignored.”

Smaug let out an offended snort, releasing a tiny puff of smoke that dissipated harmlessly. “Ignored? I demand respect, human! Grovel before your draconic overlord or perish!”

One of the smaller children, wide-eyed and clutching a stuffed rabbit, whispered something that sounded suspiciously like, “It’s adorable!”

Smaug froze, outrage blazing in his eyes. “Who dared call me adorable?”

Riven bit his lip, clearly suppressing laughter. “I mean, you are tiny.”

“Tiny?” Smaug’s voice rose an octave, indignation ringing clear. “I was a majestic titan mere moments ago!”

“A majestic titan who fits in my hands,” I muttered dryly.

[He might bite someone at this rate.]

Smaug growled, flexing his small wings furiously. “I will burn your insolence to ashes! You shall all witness my wrath!”

One child giggled. Then another. In seconds, every child in the courtyard had abandoned their food to form a loose, curious circle around the outraged dragon. The expressions on their faces ranged from amazement to amused disbelief.

“Do it again!” one boy shouted excitedly.

“What?” Smaug blinked, startled.

“The smoke!” a girl with messy pigtails cheered. “That was amazing!”

The mighty dragon hesitated, clearly unprepared for admiration instead of fear. “I—well, naturally,” he recovered smoothly, puffing out his chest, “I am magnificent, after all.”

Riven leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially, “Is your dragon…actually shy?”

I shrugged, smirking. “Seems that way.”

Smaug shot me a murderous glare. “I will incinerate your wardrobe for this betrayal.”

I smiled sweetly back at him. “Good luck reaching it.”

His tail lashed once, irritation clearly radiating from every scale, before he turned back to his small audience. He puffed himself up, spreading his wings dramatically and blowing another small plume of smoke more controlled this time.

The children erupted into cheers and applause, completely delighted. Smaug, who apparently thrived on validation, immediately brightened, his previous threats forgotten.

“You know,” Riven murmured, leaning toward me, “for a terrifying dragon, he’s surprisingly easy to distract.”

“I know,” I said softly. “Imagine if my parents were like that.”

He shivered theatrically. “Please don’t.”

The children soon became braver, stepping closer to ask questions or offer Smaug snacks. At first, he sniffed suspiciously at their treats, acting like he was weighing the pros and cons of poisoning. When he eventually deemed their offerings acceptable, he graciously permitted them to feed him bits of cake and roast chicken. Within minutes, he was smugly lounging on a velvet cushion brought out by an amused Mara, soaking in his newfound adoration.

I shook my head slowly. “I’ve created a monster.”

[Correction: Your parents created the monster. You merely inherited him.]

“Helpful, thanks.”

As Smaug entertained the children mostly by making increasingly ridiculous threats that none of them seemed to take seriously Riven and I finally settled down on a bench beneath a blooming cherry blossom tree.

“I have to admit,” he murmured, watching Smaug with wary amusement, “I didn’t expect a dragon to enjoy attention quite so much.”

“Neither did I,” I replied, leaning back. “Though I suppose attention is all he wants, really.”

Riven glanced sideways at me. “Speaking of attention, did you realize that your parents have been staring at us nonstop?”

“Of course,” I answered flatly. “They’re ensuring you don’t spontaneously combust.”

“I’d appreciate it if they stopped,” he said nervously. “Their gaze feels like it could actually cause combustion.”

I glanced toward my parents. They were indeed staring with narrowed eyes, though Verania smiled warmly the instant our gazes met. Sylvithra offered a slight nod, her expression coolly neutral.

“It’s how they show love,” I joked.

“Terrifying,” Riven murmured. “But effective.”

Just as I started to relax into the moment, Smaug’s shrill voice echoed across the courtyard. “Unhand me, you tiny savages!”

I looked up sharply. Several children had managed to scoop him up, giggling as they attempted to cuddle him. Smaug squirmed furiously, though he did little to discourage their attention other than shout dramatically.

“Should we save him?” Riven asked, not bothering to hide his grin.

I paused, considering. “Give him a minute. It’s good for his ego.”

“Is that even possible?” he questioned skeptically.

I shrugged. “We’ll find out.”

Eventually, Smaug managed to wriggle free, scuttling back to me with an indignant glare. He climbed onto my lap, glaring at everyone as though daring them to try again. “I am never leaving your side again.”

“That’s concerning,” I muttered.

[Congratulations on adopting a stage-five clingy dragon.]

My parents chose that moment to approach, clearly deciding that our allotted free time was now over. Sylvithra smiled gently, though her eyes narrowed slightly when she saw Smaug’s position on my lap. “I see your new pet is adjusting.”

“Something like that,” I replied dryly.

Verania tilted her head slightly, her gaze shifting suspiciously toward Riven. “And you, boy? Are you adjusting well?”

Riven swallowed visibly. “Y-yes, Your Majesty. Very well.”

“I see.” Her voice held a slight edge. “Keep adjusting, then.”

He nodded fervently, clearly deciding silence was safer.

After another hour of cautious enjoyment, the visit finally drew to a close. My parents seemed relieved to be leaving the orphanage, though I suspected they would have preferred leaving with fewer survivors.

Riven walked us to the carriage, still eyeing Smaug warily. “Will you bring him again next time?”

Smaug narrowed his eyes. “If I come again, I will bring fire.”

I sighed deeply. “We’ll see.”

Just as we turned to leave, Riven spoke quietly. “Thank you, Elyzara. Really.”

His earnest tone caught me off guard. “For what?”

“For making this place better,” he explained, gesturing toward the now lively orphanage. “It really means a lot.”

“Oh,” I said awkwardly, warmth spreading in my chest. “Of course.”

My parents made no comment, though I felt their gaze softening just a fraction.

On the carriage ride home, Smaug curled tightly in my lap, muttering something unintelligible under his breath about revenge. The gentle sway of the carriage, combined with the warmth radiating from my pet dragon, lulled me into a soft drowsiness.

“You know,” Verania said quietly, her eyes surprisingly soft as she regarded me, “you did well today.”

Sylvithra smiled faintly. “Indeed. You handled your pet dragon admirably.”

I blinked sleepily. “Is that… praise?”

Verania smirked slightly. “Of course not. Simply recognition.”

Sylvithra chuckled, shaking her head. “Ignore her. You did well, Elyzara.”

Their gentle praise was enough to pull a small smile from me, even as I drifted toward sleep. Just before consciousness faded entirely, I heard Smaug whisper softly:

“You’re lucky you’re my human, Elyzara.”

For once, I didn’t argue.