Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 95

Chapter 95: Consequences of Chaos
Deep within my heart, fear lingered, nagging insistently at my mind. My magic had always been unpredictable, but this…this loss of control was terrifyingly new, and dangerously powerful. I couldn’t risk harming those I cared about again.

Morning came like an unwelcome visitor, sunlight rudely intruding into the ruins of my room through gaps in the shattered walls and broken windows. My head pounded mercilessly, a vivid reminder of last night’s chaotic events. As I lay curled up beneath a hastily conjured blanket, my heart sank at the devastation surrounding me. The luxurious furnishings, carefully chosen and elegantly arranged just days ago, now lay splintered, burnt, and scattered across the floor like fallen soldiers on a battlefield.

Smaug lay stretched out lazily nearby, his golden eyes blinking open with mild disinterest. He let out a yawn, unbothered by the fact that half his scales were singed from last night’s magical onslaught.

“You’re awfully calm for someone who nearly became dragon barbecue,” I muttered.

Smaug raised his head slightly, casting a nonchalant glance my way. “Please. If your magic actually managed to kill me, I’d be too embarrassed to stay dead.”

I rolled my eyes, pushing myself upright with a groan. “Thanks. Your unwavering support fills me with confidence.”

“You’re welcome,” he responded lazily, flicking his tail and settling back down with a contented sigh.

As if on cue, the door—or rather, what remained of it—creaked open hesitantly. Mara stepped inside first, carefully avoiding debris, while Elira followed behind, surveying the damage with quiet astonishment.

“Morning,” I said weakly, gesturing to the room around me. “Care for some chaos with your coffee?”

Mara’s eyes flickered with restrained amusement, but her voice remained perfectly neutral. “I think you’ve provided enough chaos already, Your Highness.”

Elira knelt beside me, gently examining the scratches and bruises marking my arms and shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a human disaster,” I replied truthfully. “But at least nothing else exploded overnight.”

“Yet,” Mara added dryly.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’re hilarious.”

Before Mara could respond, the faint sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. Seconds later, the principal of the primary school, Lady Verilda Greystone, appeared at the doorway, her elegant robes fluttering dramatically behind her. She stopped abruptly, taking in the ruined room with a horrified gasp.

“By the gods, what happened here?” Her gaze settled accusingly upon me, her expression shifting from shock to displeasure. “Princess Elyzara, do you have any idea how much this will cost to repair?”

I winced inwardly, guilt creeping into my chest. “I’m sorry, Lady Greystone. It wasn’t intentional—”

She interrupted sharply, eyes narrowing. “Intentional or not, this is beyond disastrous. The magical wards, handcrafted furnishings, and structural integrity of the room itself…”

She paused, turning a distressing shade of pale. “Not to mention the priceless stained-glass window imported from the Elven Kingdom.”

I glanced at the shattered glass and broken frame with newfound dread. “Priceless?”

“Completely,” she confirmed grimly.

I bit my lip, guilt clawing at my insides. “I swear, I’ll make sure everything is replaced—”

Lady Greystone raised a hand, cutting off my desperate promises. “This is not merely about cost, Princess. You’ve demonstrated a complete lack of control. Do you realize how dangerous you are?”

I felt myself shrink under her words, heart hammering painfully against my ribs. “I—I know. Believe me, no one understands better than I do.”

“Do they?” she countered sharply. “Because this destruction tells me otherwise. Do you even realize your effect on people around you?”

Her words struck me harder than expected, piercing through the defensive sarcasm I’d so carefully constructed. My gaze dropped to the floor, cheeks burning with shame. Because deep down, I knew she was right. For all my strength and bravado, my magic could easily hurt someone if I wasn’t careful—someone I genuinely cared about.

Silence stretched painfully until Mara cleared her throat softly. “Lady Greystone, we understand your concern, but Her Highness—”

Lady Greystone shook her head firmly. “Understanding is not enough. Princess Elyzara must learn control. Until she does, there will always be a risk.”

She let out a sigh, softer now, glancing briefly at Mara and Elira. “I do not doubt your loyalty or your abilities, but even you two cannot protect her from herself.”

With a final disapproving glance at the destruction around her, Lady Greystone turned sharply and swept from the room, leaving behind a heavy silence.

I swallowed thickly, refusing to meet the worried gazes of Mara and Elira. Even Smaug remained unusually quiet, perhaps sensing the depth of my turmoil. Lady Greystone’s words stung fiercely, resonating painfully with my own fears.

A faint, familiar whisper brushed my consciousness. [She’s right, in a way. But remember, no one controls power like yours without facing failure first.]

“Comforting,” I whispered sarcastically.

[You’re welcome.]

Mara stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Lady Greystone means well, Elyzara. She’s afraid for the other students—but she’s also worried for you.”

Elira nodded gently. “The strength of your magic is unparalleled. But remember, you are not alone. We believe in you.”

I exhaled shakily, finding comfort in their steady presence. “Thank you,” I murmured softly. “But we can’t ignore that she’s right. I need better control.”

“Agreed,” Mara said without hesitation. “And you’ll get it. We’ll help.”

Smaug yawned loudly, stretching lazily again. “Touching. Can we skip the sentimental bonding now and move onto breakfast? I’m starving.”

I shot him a glare. “You’re seriously insensitive sometimes.”

He sniffed dismissively. “And yet, still utterly charming.”

Elira chuckled softly, breaking the tension. “Breakfast sounds like a good idea, actually. You’ll need your strength.”

I groaned dramatically, rising slowly from the rubble-strewn floor. “If breakfast is anything like the rest of my life lately, it’ll probably explode as soon as I touch it.”

Mara smiled faintly, guiding me gently toward the door. “We’ll take precautions.”

As we walked, I allowed myself to lean slightly against her, grateful for her unwavering support despite my chaotic tendencies. Elira followed close behind, offering reassuring smiles whenever I glanced back uncertainly.

Smaug trailed after us lazily, inspecting his singed scales with casual indifference. “On second thought, perhaps some well-done bacon would suit me today.”

I snorted, shaking my head lightly. “You really are impossible.”

“I prefer magnificent,” he retorted smugly.

As we entered the dining hall, whispers erupted immediately, countless eyes turning toward me with mixed curiosity, fear, and admiration. Clearly, news of my destructive outburst had already spread like wildfire. My cheeks flushed uncomfortably under the scrutiny, painfully aware of the unintended impression I’d made.

[You’re officially infamous, congratulations.]

“Perfect,” I muttered, ignoring the amused note in the system’s voice.

Yet despite the attention, breakfast proceeded without disaster, albeit in awkward silence punctuated occasionally by Smaug’s unnecessarily loud chewing.

“Must you eat like you’re devouring a battlefield?” I asked irritably.

Smaug eyed me innocently. “My apologies. Would you prefer I eat daintily, perhaps with a tiny fork and napkin?”