Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 75

Chapter 75: The Tyrants’ Interrogation
After a well-deserved rest, I left the cloaked figures to lament their fate in peace. I had my fun, and honestly, I wasn’t cruel enough to push them further. Besides, there were more important matters at hand like snacks.

Mara and Elira, fully supportive of my decision, flanked me as we made our way toward the royal kitchens. Smaug, ever my enthusiastic partner in crime, followed with a content rumble.

[ A truly noble pursuit. ]

“Exactly,” I muttered, pushing open the doors.

The scent of freshly baked pastries, spiced meats, and sugared fruits filled the air, an instant improvement to my day.

Mara grinned. “Shall we raid the kitchen, my lady?”

Elira sighed. “It’s not raiding if they’re giving it to us willingly.”

“It’s about the spirit of it, Elira.”

With that, I turned my attention fully to the grand selection of delicacies before me.

Of course, I had no idea that elsewhere in the castle, my parents had absolutely no intention of being as merciful as I was.

Because unlike me, they had no intention of letting those cloaked fools go unpunished.

And, well they were tyrants for a reason.

Elsewhere in the Castle…

The air in the darkened chamber was thick with silence.

It was not the comfortable kind.

It was the kind of silence that made people sweat, that stretched endlessly, suffocating and thick with tension.

It was the kind of silence before something truly terrible happened.

The cloaked figures the same unfortunate souls who had been turned into unwilling steeds mere hours before were now bound in thick, enchanted chains, forced to kneel before the two most terrifying women in existence.

Verania tilted her head, golden eyes gleaming like a predator’s. “So.”

Sylvithra adjusted her gloves, expression unreadable. “Shall we begin?”

The cloaked men already suffering from the humiliation of earlier stiffened.

One of them, clearly the more level-headed one, forced himself to remain calm. “We are honored guests of the empire,” he said, trying for diplomacy. “Surely, there is no need for—”

CRACK.

A flash of golden light erupted, splitting the very air as Verania slammed her hand down on the marble armrest of her chair, leaving deep fractures in the stone.

The air itself vibrated with the weight of her presence.

“Honored guests?” she repeated, voice as sweet as poisoned honey. “You think we don’t know why you were really here?”

The more nervous of the two flinched violently, his throat bobbing as he fought to control his fear.

The other more foolish tried to hold his ground. “We were merely observing the imperial heir.”

Sylvithra, who had been silent up until now, smiled.

It was not a kind smile.

It was the kind of smile that sent men to their graves.

“Oh? Just observing?” she murmured. “That’s such a shame.”

She raised a single hand graceful, effortless, deadly.

The air in the room plummeted, a cold that bit through bone and flesh alike. The shadows in the chamber grew darker, stretching unnaturally, like living things creeping toward their prey.

The fools visibly trembled.

One of them the less intelligent one, clearly gathered what little courage he had left.

“We are loyal citizens of the empire,” he insisted, voice tight with panic. “We have done nothing wrong.”

Verania laughed.

It was a terrible sound.

Not because it was loud, but because it was quiet, soft, like the edge of a blade pressing against skin.

“You have done nothing wrong?” she echoed.

Sylvithra leaned forward.

And in that moment, the shadows lunged.

Dark tendrils coiled around their limbs, forcing them lower, pressing their faces against the cold stone floor.

Their breathing turned shallow, frantic.

Sylvithra watched them struggle with vague amusement.

“Do you know,” she said conversationally, “what happens to those who attempt to threaten my daughter?”

Verania smiled.

“Would you like to find out?”

The fool now shaking violently let out a strangled noise.

“I—we—”

“Speak,” Sylvithra commanded, voice laced with magic.

He had no choice.

His mouth moved against his will.

And what spilled from his lips was everything.

By the time the interrogation was over, the cloaked figures were barely conscious, their bodies trembling with the weight of their confessions.

Verania and Sylvithra leaned back, entirely unbothered, their expressions eerily calm.

Sylvithra tilted her head. “Well. That was productive.”

Verania sighed. “Unfortunately, that means we can’t kill them yet.”

The poor fools whimpered.

Verania rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop whining. If you didn’t want to be interrogated, you shouldn’t have made it so obvious that you were up to something.”

Sylvithra hummed thoughtfully. “Do you think Elyzara noticed?”

Verania snorted. “Knowing her, she probably assumed they were perverts.”

A beat of silence.

“…Honestly, she’s not wrong.”

Sylvithra sighed dramatically. “What a disappointment. It would have been more entertaining if they were at least competent.”

The two women exchanged glances.

Then, as if coming to the same conclusion:

“Let’s send them to the dungeons,” Verania declared.

Sylvithra nodded approvingly. “Oh, and increase the security around Elyzara. If these idiots were watching, then there are bound to be others.”

A nearby guard bowed swiftly. “As you command, Your Majesties.”

As the guards dragged the cloaked figures away, Verania let out a satisfied sigh, stretching her arms.

“Well,” she said, standing up. “That was a good way to start the afternoon.”

Sylvithra grinned. “Indeed. Let’s see what our daughter is up to.”

As they exited the chamber, the air settled, the weight of their magic dissipating.

But the message had been made very, very clear.

No one absolutely no one would be allowed to threaten the heir of Velmoria.

And if they dared to try?

Well.

The queens would ensure they regretted it.

Verania stretched, rolling her shoulders like she had just finished a light workout instead of mentally and physically crushing a group of spies.

“Honestly,” she mused, flicking imaginary dust from her sleeve, “I expected better.”

Sylvithra nodded, watching as the last of the prisoners were dragged out. “So did I. Disappointing, really.”

One of the nearby guards, who had been standing stiffly the entire time, hesitated before clearing his throat. “Your Majesties, what would you like us to do with them after their… extended stay in the dungeons?”

Verania hummed, tapping a finger against her chin. “That depends. If they become useful, perhaps we let them live.”

Sylvithra smirked. “If not, we throw them in a pit and let Smaug decide their fate.”

The guard visibly paled. “Understood.”

As he hurried away, Verania turned to her wife with a small smirk. “That wasn’t an actual suggestion, was it?”

Sylvithra shrugged elegantly. “Oh, I don’t know. Smaug might enjoy the enrichment.”

At the mention of the dragon, Verania sighed dramatically. “Our daughter is far too attached to that overgrown lizard.”

Sylvithra raised a brow. “And whose fault is that?”

Verania paused.

“…Fair.”

With a shared smirk, the two queens exited the interrogation chamber, leaving nothing behind but the lingering aura of sheer, unrelenting dominance.

And the deeply traumatized guards who had witnessed the entire event.