Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby!
Chapter 211: Siblings, Scones, and Small Revolutions

Chapter 211: Siblings, Scones, and Small Revolutions

Morning, in my experience, usually arrived quietly, politely announcing itself with soft golden light and gentle whispers. Today, however, it crashed in like a thunderstorm made entirely of jam-covered enthusiasm, ink-stained fingers, and squeals loud enough to shatter crystal goblets.

“ELYZARA THE BRAVE!” the twins shouted in jubilant unison, barreling into the royal breakfast chamber with enough force to rattle the enchanted sconces.

Aeris waved a crumpled, glittering poster wildly. Arion brandished his own like a war banner, proudly bearing a drawing that resembled me only if viewed through several thick veils, in poor lighting, from a considerable distance.

“Tell us everything!” Aeris demanded breathlessly. “Did you vanquish the villains? Did you use your magic? Was there cake?”

Arion jumped onto a chair, wobbling slightly. “I heard you fought a hundred evil wizards! No, a thousand!”

Velka, seated beside me with a bemused expression, murmured, “Did you?”

“Only if you count an emotionally manipulative spell and diplomatic protocol,” I muttered back.

Before I could respond properly, Mara leaped from her seat, brandishing a half-eaten scone with revolutionary zeal. “If we’re to recount the heroic deeds of Elyzara the Brave, we must first claim victory in the name of breakfast justice! More chocolate for all!”

The twins, easily swayed by any promise involving sweets, immediately joined Mara’s rebellion. “Chocolate! Chocolate!” they chanted, wrapping napkins around their heads like bandanas. Riven, conscripted into villainy by Aeris’s pointed finger, sighed dramatically and adopted a villainous slouch, eyeing Mara’s pastry sword.

“Never!” he intoned grandly. “I, Lord No-Chocolate-Allowed, shall defend healthy breakfasts to my last breath!”

Even Verania royal dignity and solemn queenliness personified hid a small smile behind her teacup, while Sylvithra openly laughed, enjoying this unexpected morning theater far too much for royal decorum.

Before the battle for breakfast could escalate further, a flurry of royal messengers and courtiers swept into the room, carrying scrolls, magical mirrors crackling with news broadcasts, and piles of newspapers that fluttered anxiously, eager to relay scandal and praise in equal measure.

“Your Majesties,” gasped one messenger, whose face was flushed from either urgency or the embarrassment of interrupting a chocolate revolution. “The news is everywhere!”

We crowded around the enchanted mirrors. Headlines shouted for attention:

“Princess Elyzara’s Brave Stand Against Tyranny!””Scandalous Confessions from the Bakery Revolution!””Royal Romance or Rebellion? Sources Inside!”

Velka, eyebrows raised in amused disdain, plucked one particularly flamboyant gossip column and began reading aloud: “Princess Elyzara, secret master of enchanted pastries and magical rebellion, boldly declared her undying love for the mysterious Velka Nightthorn—rumored vampire, revolutionary poet, and part-time pastry chef—”

“Part-time pastry chef?” Velka repeated incredulously. “Is that a step up or down from revolutionary poet?”

Elira snickered softly, and Mara cackled, dramatically swooning into a chair. “Oh, to love a pastry chef! Truly, your romance is sweeter than sugar itself!”

Aeris and Arion, meanwhile, were furiously cutting out every glowing word about my bravery and plastering them onto their enormous poster board labeled “Elyzara’s Heroic Achievements.” Arion even taped on a small spoon from the breakfast table, “for bravery,” he declared solemnly.

It was Sylvithra who gently drew the chaos into something deeper, quietly kneeling beside the twins as they pasted another praise-filled clipping onto the board. “You know, bravery isn’t always about defeating villains,” she explained softly. “Sometimes the bravest thing is listening when people are angry, and trying to understand why.”

Aeris blinked thoughtfully. “Did Elyzara listen a lot?”

“Yes,” Sylvithra said, squeezing my hand warmly. “More than we ever have. And that’s the bravest thing of all.”

Aeris’s eyes widened, and Arion tugged excitedly at my sleeve. “You should be queen forever!” he declared, and before I could protest, tried valiantly to crown me with a porcelain teacup.

I laughed, touched by their absolute certainty, and maybe just a little overwhelmed. It was easy to dismiss my role, to laugh at the absurdity of a jam-soaked revolution, but in their eyes, I realized, my actions meant something real.

Another messenger arrived, slightly breathless, bearing letters from the academy. “The new roundtable discussions are an immediate success,” she reported, sounding slightly astonished. “Every house wants to participate. And the Guild of Enchanted Cutlery has offered a singing spoon as a token of goodwill.”

The spoon chose that moment to leap from its velvet case, warbling cheerfully about unity and utensils. Mara, naturally, decided this required an interpretive dance: “Victory Over Bureaucracy!”

She swept the twins into her absurd choreography, spinning and twirling until even Verania couldn’t maintain her stern mask, almost smiling as Mara performed an exaggerated pirouette, narrowly avoiding collision with Riven, who was busy lamenting his defeat as Lord No-Chocolate-Allowed.

In the quiet aftermath of their theatrics, I took a deep breath, catching Velka’s supportive gaze. Gathering Aeris and Arion close, I spoke softly, voice serious beneath the laughter. “You know, sometimes being a leader is scary and lonely. People depend on you, and you never know if you’re doing the right thing.”

Aeris looked solemnly into my face, unusually serious. “But you’re never alone not with us.”

Arion nodded fiercely. “We’ll help with every adventure, Elyzara. We promise.”

The twins wrapped their small arms around me, and for a heartbeat, the chaos around us vanished, leaving only the sweetness of a simple, unshakeable promise.

Sylvithra, seizing the moment, arranged an impromptu magical portrait. My parents, Velka, Mara, Elira, Riven, Aeris, and Arion huddled together, laughing, jam-stained, proudly imperfect. In that instant, I knew we had begun something truly remarkable.

But just as we were dispersing, savoring the rare sweetness of peace, a courier burst into the room, a darkly shimmering scroll clutched in his trembling hand. “Urgent message from the northern provinces,” he announced breathlessly. “New trouble stirring. The peace is…fragile.”

My parents exchanged a worried glance, but Aeris and Arion beamed at me, utterly fearless.

“Don’t worry, Elyzara,” Aeris said brightly. “We’ll help you again!”

“And again, and again,” Arion added, jumping enthusiastically.

I met Velka’s steady gaze, drawing strength from the quiet certainty in her eyes. Then, smiling down at my brave, ridiculous siblings, I nodded.

“I’m counting on you both,” I told Aeris and Arion, reaching down to gently tousle their hair. “Every adventure needs heroes like you.”

They beamed, bouncing on their toes with barely restrained excitement. “We’ll practice every day,” Arion promised, puffing his chest out. “We’ll learn magic, and swords, and diplomacy!”

Mara coughed discreetly. “Start with diplomacy,” she suggested, “swords can wait until after breakfast.”

Aeris scrunched up her nose thoughtfully. “Is diplomacy the one where you have to talk a lot?”

“Yes,” Velka replied gravely. “And occasionally bribe people with cookies.”

“Oh, good,” Aeris sighed in relief. “I’m already very good at that one.”

Amid the giggles and chatter, my parents rose quietly from their chairs. Verania’s eyes were thoughtful, calm yet guarded, the perfect mirror of a queen who knew the storms ahead. Sylvithra rested a comforting hand on my shoulder, leaning close enough to whisper gently, “You have done well, Elyzara. Change always brings new storms, but we face them together.”

Together. The word carried warmth and hope, brightening my chest despite the uneasy news from the north. My eyes wandered to Velka, who watched me quietly, strength and trust wrapped within the shadows of her careful gaze. A rush of gratitude and affection filled me.

Before I could voice these feelings, however, Mara’s dramatic sigh echoed through the breakfast room. “This family portrait needs a sequel something a bit more adventurous, perhaps a little less jam-stained,” she declared, swiftly guiding us all into a second pose. “Let’s make it heroic this time. Riven, look noble! Elira, pretend you tolerate us!”

Elira arched a single, elegant eyebrow. “That would require stronger acting skills than even I possess.”

The second portrait flashed brightly, capturing us in a beautifully imperfect tableau. Velka and I stood side by side, Aeris and Arion proudly flexing tiny muscles, Mara posing theatrically, and Riven doing his best impression of dignified nobility. My parents smiled faintly, their regal composure brightened by the sheer absurdity of the moment.

As the laughter subsided, Velka squeezed my hand gently. “Ready for whatever comes next?”

I exhaled slowly, allowing myself one final moment to savor the calm. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Our quiet exchange was abruptly ended by another flurry of robes and papers. The messenger stood breathless, gripping another urgent scroll as if it might bite him at any moment.

“My apologies for interrupting again, Your Majesties,” he panted, eyes wide and fearful. “The northern provinces report that several cities have declared outright defiance of royal authority. They say…they say a true revolution is coming.”

The laughter drained away, replaced by a silence so thick it felt tangible. Even Aeris and Arion fell quiet, sensing a shift they didn’t fully understand.

Verania accepted the scroll, her face an unreadable mask. Sylvithra’s gentle voice broke the silence first. “Well, then. It seems breakfast truly is over.”

I swallowed hard, aware of the heavy eyes upon me the hopeful, innocent gazes of my siblings, the steady presence of Velka at my side, and the determined yet weary looks of my friends. I squared my shoulders and raised my chin, feeling a sudden and unexpected clarity.

“Yes, breakfast is over,” I said, meeting each gaze in turn. “But now, we have work to do.”

Aeris tugged at my sleeve softly. “Can we help too, Elyzara?”

I knelt, meeting their wide, earnest eyes. “Always. This kingdom belongs to all of us. And together, we’ll protect it.”