Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 84

Chapter 84: Royal Oversight and Parental Control
Morning sunlight spilled across the grand academy courtyard, painting marble pillars and golden arches with a deceptively gentle glow. Birds chirped in manicured trees, singing ignorant songs that failed to convey the very real tension vibrating through the gathered assembly. Rows of anxious students, nobles, teachers, and faculty stood at stiff attention, eyes glued to the raised platform where the headmistress an elderly woman with hair like polished silver and nerves apparently forged from pure steel cleared her throat with more caution than I’d ever heard from a public speaker.

And, frankly, I understood her perfectly.

Because standing just a few feet behind her, arms crossed and faces locked into identical expressions of sinister anticipation, were Verania and Sylvithra my dearly beloved mothers.

Behind them stood my grandparents, radiating oppressive authority, each emanating an aura of casual tyranny that put the already panicked principal at the edge of fainting. She clutched tightly at the parchment in her hands, visibly trembling as she attempted to smile at the crowd of assembled students and their terrified parents.

“W-welcome, esteemed guests,” she began, voice wavering. “Today is an extraordinary day in the history of our prestigious academy. We are deeply honored—”

Verania raised a single eyebrow.

“Terrified,” the headmistress corrected hastily, earning a satisfied nod from Sylvithra, “to welcome the Imperial Rulers of Velmoria, whose daughter our new Imperial Heir Elyzara will begin her education here.”

The audience shifted uncomfortably. Nobles and faculty alike tried desperately to avoid direct eye contact with my parents, knowing even the slightest misstep could earn them more than just a disappointed stare.

I watched from the shadows of an elegant balcony, comfortably distant yet still close enough to see everything. Mara and Elira flanked me, their own amusement poorly concealed behind carefully schooled expressions. Even my dragon companion, curled lazily at my feet, watched with eager anticipation, clearly delighted by the impending chaos.

My parents, meanwhile, made no effort to hide their menace. They scanned the assembled staff with an intensity usually reserved for enemy generals before battle, clearly evaluating weaknesses and possible threats. The silence following the headmistress’s awkward greeting stretched painfully long before Sylvithra broke it with a languid gesture.

“You may continue,” she drawled, voice dripping with a sweetness that fooled exactly no one.

The headmistress inhaled sharply, clearly bracing herself. “Today marks the enrollment of the Imperial Heir, who has been entrusted into our care. We promise—”

“If a single hair on her head is harmed,” Verania interrupted with lethal calm, “the academy will cease to exist.”

A nervous murmur rippled through the assembled staff and faculty, eyes darting toward exits and potential escape routes.

Sylvithra nodded serenely. “Along with every person responsible. And their families. And probably their pets.”

The headmistress visibly paled, stumbling through her next sentence. “O-of course. Her safety and happiness are our highest priorities—”

“Fail us,” Verania said, leaning forward slightly, crimson eyes blazing with menace, “and we’ll make sure this academy becomes nothing more than a footnote in the history books. Understood?”

A chorus of fearful murmurs swept through the gathered faculty and students alike. The headmistress nodded frantically, her previously dignified composure now entirely abandoned.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning softly. “They’re laying it on a bit thick, aren’t they?”

Elira chuckled, carefully hidden behind a cough. “They’re making their point clear, Your Highness. No one will dare challenge their authority after this.”

“I think the entire continent understood that already,” Mara added dryly. “Possibly the entire world.”

I sighed, leaning forward to rest my chin on my hands. My dragon let out a low, amused rumble, clearly entertained by my parents’ dramatic theatrics.

Back in the courtyard, Sylvithra stepped forward, somehow managing to make the mere act of breathing seem threatening. “As we are placing our daughter in your hands,” she began, her voice smooth and steady, “you may consider yourselves not only educators but custodians of her future empire. Such a duty carries… grave responsibility.”

A few faculty members fainted. No one moved to help them.

“We understand the weight of our responsibility,” the headmistress said quickly. “We promise to do our utmost.”

“Good,” Sylvithra said, smiling warmly. “We’d hate to make a mess in front of the children. It might scar their little minds.”

Verania smirked wickedly. “Yes. It would be a shame to traumatize them so early in their education.”

A collective shudder rippled through the crowd.

“I think they already did,” Mara muttered. Elira elbowed her, though her lips twitched with amusement.

My grandparents stood quietly behind my parents, their presence alone adding another layer of fearsome authority. Grand Empress Saelira surveyed the crowd coolly, her violet eyes piercing, as if mentally cataloguing every soul present for potential threats. Grand Warlord Eryndor looked vaguely amused, clearly enjoying the terror his family was inspiring. Beside them, Grand Consort Ilythia smiled serenely, deceptively gentle compared to the others but no less deadly. Grand Strategist Veylen stood with his hands clasped behind his back, observing everything with calculated disinterest, though anyone who knew him understood he was cataloging every word, every reaction, for later use.

It was a perfect portrait of imperial intimidation.

After what felt like an eternity, Verania finally took a step back, nodding in approval. “Then we entrust our daughter to your care. Fail, and you’ll suffer consequences.”

“Painful, eternal consequences,” Sylvithra added casually.

The headmistress nodded weakly. “Of course, Your Majesties.”

Verania’s eyes flicked briefly toward my balcony, clearly aware of my presence despite my attempts at stealth. A knowing smile curled her lips.

I sighed again. “Do they always have to make a spectacle?”

[Always,] the system supplied cheerfully. [It’s part of their charm. That, and their penchant for violence.]

“I noticed.”

The crowd began to disperse, still shaken and murmuring quietly among themselves. Faculty members rushed away, presumably to prepare the school to impossibly high standards. My parents and grandparents remained in place, exchanging satisfied looks as if they’d just won a particularly enjoyable battle.

Verania tilted her head thoughtfully. “Do you think Elyzara appreciated our efforts?”

Sylvithra smirked. “She’s probably rolling her eyes at us right now.”

Verania’s smile widened. “Good. That means she was paying attention.”

“You’re both terrible,” Saelira said mildly. “Though effective.”

Grand Warlord Eryndor nodded, completely serious. “Fear is a reliable motivator.”

Grand Strategist Veylen cleared his throat delicately. “I believe we’ve sufficiently terrorized the populace for one morning. Perhaps we should return to more pressing matters?”

My parents shared a brief glance, then shrugged almost simultaneously. Verania nodded once, clearly satisfied. “You’re right. There’s still much to do.”

Sylvithra’s gaze flicked upward, finding my balcony easily. “We’ll check on Elyzara before we leave.”

They turned toward the castle, leaving behind a courtyard filled with stunned, terrified staff and students.

“Well,” Mara said, “this will certainly be an interesting year.”

“Interesting is one word for it,” Elira agreed. “Catastrophic might be another.”

I leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes briefly. Despite everything, despite the absurdity and chaos that seemed to follow my family like a shadow, I couldn’t help but smile.

Because while they were overwhelming, terrifying, and undeniably insane, they were mine.

And gods help me, I wouldn’t have it any other way.