Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 83

Chapter 83: A Welcome Fit for a Tyrant
Arcanum Institute rose up ahead like something plucked straight from a fairytale a fairytale that my family would gleefully set aflame and rewrite at their convenience. Towering spires carved from smooth marble spiraled into the clouds, lined with gleaming silver runes shimmering faintly in the morning sunlight. The enormous iron gates, intricately designed with swirling patterns and symbols of protective magic, slowly parted, revealing the path that would soon usher me into a new chapter of life.

And, if the whispers echoing from behind me were any indication, that chapter was already off to a disastrous start.

“It’s her Elyzara Thorne! The Imperial Heir!” someone hissed excitedly, their voice trembling between awe and terror.

“Did you hear about the last training session? She obliterated the entire arena. They say it still hasn’t recovered,” someone else added, not even bothering to whisper this time.

I gritted my teeth, keeping my expression as carefully neutral as possible, even though every muscle in my body begged to wince. Somehow, despite my parents’ constant reminders that respect and fear were practically interchangeable, I had never quite gotten used to the secondhand terror that came with my surname.

I stepped down from the carriage, boots clicking onto polished marble. Immediately, the entire courtyard went silent, as if the students and staff had collectively forgotten how to breathe.

[You sure know how to make an entrance. I give it a solid ten out of ten.]

“Shut up,” I muttered under my breath, not needing the reminder.

My siblings bounded down beside me, their eyes wide and eager as they took in the scenery. The twins had insisted on coming along, and while I’d initially worried they might attract unwanted attention, I now realized that they might just be the distraction I needed.

Arion, who had spent the journey insisting that he would not embarrass me, immediately waved at the gawking crowd with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Greetings, peasants! Fear not, we come in peace!”

Elira and Mara shared identical looks of resignation, but I noticed the corners of their mouths twitching into amused smiles. I sighed, resigned. At least someone was enjoying this disaster.

As I moved toward the enormous, ornate doors of the Institute, two professors stepped forward, expressions schooled into rigid neutrality. They bowed stiffly, their posture radiating tension as if expecting me to demand their execution at any second.

“Welcome to Arcanum Institute, Your Highness,” the older woman said, her voice strained yet polite. Her midnight-blue robes rustled softly around her ankles, embroidered silver sigils marking her as a high-ranking mage. Beside her, the younger man in similar robes had his eyes glued firmly to the floor, as if looking me in the eyes might cause him physical harm.

“Thank you,” I replied, trying to sound gracious but probably just managing mildly threatening instead. “I’m looking forward to—”

“Please don’t kill us,” the younger professor blurted, paling instantly as he realized he’d said that aloud.

His colleague elbowed him sharply. “Ignore him, Your Highness. First-day nerves.”

“Right,” I drawled, somehow more amused than insulted. “I’ll do my best.”

[I’d say that went well.]

I rolled my eyes mentally. “Glad one of us thinks so.”

The two professors led me toward the main hall, their steps careful and controlled. Around me, students began hurriedly moving out of our path, parting like terrified waves. Behind me, my entourage Arion, Elira, Mara, and of course Smaug, who was lazily stretched across Mara’s shoulder followed in a slow procession, each step drawing more whispers from the onlookers.

“I heard she tamed a dragon,” a student murmured in awe.

Another snorted skeptically. “Impossible. Dragons are practically extinct.”

At that moment, Smaug lifted his head, lazily fixing a crimson gaze upon the student who’d dared speak. The student squeaked, turning white as parchment before hastily averting their eyes.

“Never mind,” the skeptic corrected himself weakly.

Mara gave Smaug an appreciative pat. “Good dragon.”

He hummed smugly in response.

The professors led me toward a massive hall crowned by stained-glass windows depicting scenes of magic, conquest, and unsurprisingly violent battles. It seemed my parents weren’t the only ones who favored dramatic storytelling.

Inside, an elevated stage awaited, and a silver-haired woman stood at its center, dressed in flowing black robes embroidered with crimson runes. The headmistress, I presumed. She watched my approach with cool detachment, not a hint of the panic evident in the others.

Interesting.

She stepped forward gracefully, dipping into a respectful bow. “Princess Elyzara, welcome. I am Headmistress Valeria. It’s an honor to finally have you join us.”

Her words were diplomatic perfection, though the slight quiver in her hand suggested otherwise.

“I appreciate the welcome,” I replied, matching her polite tone. “I look forward to my studies.”

[She just looked at you as if you’re a living calamity.]

I suppressed a sigh. [Yes, thank you. I noticed.]

She smiled a practiced gesture that held as much sincerity as a viper’s greeting. “I must admit, we’ve been anticipating your arrival for quite some time. Your abilities have already become… legendary.”

“My family does have a flair for exaggeration,” I said smoothly, ignoring Smaug’s amused snort from behind me.

“Indeed,” she murmured carefully. “We’ve taken precautions to ensure your experience here will be both fulfilling and… safe.”

I raised an eyebrow. “For me or the other students?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering toward Smaug. “Both.”

Smaug yawned widely, exposing gleaming teeth in a clear show of dominance. Valeria’s eye twitched, just slightly, betraying her fear.

She cleared her throat, changing the subject swiftly. “You’ll have a personal suite, of course, and servants at your disposal. Classes begin tomorrow at dawn. Do you have any questions, Your Highness?”

“None at the moment,” I said calmly.

Smaug, naturally, took this as a personal challenge. He shifted on Mara’s shoulder, making himself more visible. “I have one,” he drawled lazily, startling Valeria enough to make her take a step back. “What’s your dragon policy?”

Valeria paled further, mouth opening and closing wordlessly. The entire hall held its breath.

Arion, unhelpfully delighted, whispered loudly, “He talks! Did you hear that? He talks!”

Valeria, to her credit, recovered quickly. “Ah, your… dragon. Of course, he is most welcome. We’ve made… arrangements.”

Smaug preened smugly. “As you should.”

I pressed a hand to my temple, trying not to sigh. The headmistress, clearly feeling she’d handled enough chaos for one morning, quickly excused herself, practically fleeing the stage.

As she left, whispers burst from the gathered students and staff once more, rising in volume until the hall buzzed with excitement and speculation.

“I heard she nearly killed her instructor in combat.”

“Did you see her eyes? They say she’s cursed.”

“Apparently, she can bend reality itself. Terrifying, isn’t it?”

I rolled my eyes at the murmurs, stepping off the stage with deliberate slowness. My reputation had clearly preceded me, though the accuracy was questionable at best. The rumors ranged from mildly accurate to hilariously exaggerated.

As I returned to my entourage, Mara smiled warmly. “Your Highness, how was your welcome?”

“Terrifyingly predictable,” I replied dryly. “Apparently, I’m already infamous.”

Elira chuckled softly. “Well, you are the daughter of two tyrants and granddaughter of four others. You can’t exactly blame them.”

“Maybe,” I conceded, “but I was hoping for something less theatrical.”

Smaug yawned dramatically. “You picked the wrong family for that.”

He wasn’t wrong, unfortunately.

As we left the hall, whispers trailing behind us, I considered the magnitude of the reputation that surrounded me. Perhaps being a little feared was useful, but it had quickly escalated into a legendary terror that was becoming increasingly difficult to control.

[It could be worse. They could know about me.]

“Good gods, I hope not,” I muttered, imagining the chaos that revelation would bring.

My footsteps echoed in the empty corridor as I finally reached the chambers assigned to me. The door swung open, revealing an excessively lavish room filled with silks, cushions, and more luxury than one person could reasonably need.

I sighed, feeling the weight of the day settle into my bones. Tomorrow would mark the beginning of a new stage of chaos, intrigue, and probably countless explosions.

But for tonight?

Tonight, I intended to sleep, ignore the whispers, and pretend for one brief, blissful moment that I wasn’t already becoming exactly what my parents had always wanted:

A living, breathing legend.

Whether I liked it or not.

I stepped further into the suite, my boots barely making a sound against the polished marble floor. The sheer size of the space was absurd. A high-domed ceiling stretched overhead, carved with intricate runes that pulsed faintly with magic. Velvet drapes of midnight blue and silver framed towering windows, offering a panoramic view of the academy grounds. The furniture ornate yet practical was arranged with an almost reverent attention to detail.

A massive bed, far too luxurious for a school dormitory, sat against the far wall, the silk sheets practically glowing under the soft light of enchanted chandeliers. A personal study lined with shelves upon shelves of books stood to the side, next to a grand fireplace that crackled gently, filling the air with warmth.

There was even a seating area near the windows, complete with plush armchairs and a tea set already waiting.

[They really went all out. You could fit an entire war council in here.]

“Exactly what I’m thinking,” I muttered.

What unsettled me most, however, wasn’t the extravagance. It was the silence.

No parents. No grandparents. No overwhelming presence hovering behind me.

For the first time in my life, I was truly alone.