I was too busy contemplating my life choices to care.
[ New Mission: Fix your reputation before you're old enough to talk. ]
…This was going to be a long childhood.
After what felt like an eternity of standing on that balcony, being worshipped like some apocalyptic omen, my mothers finally decided that the spectacle was over. With a final, terrifying wave to the crowd, Verania turned away, cradling me like I was the single greatest treasure to ever exist.
Sylvithra followed beside her, calm as ever, as if she hadn't just witnessed an entire nation collectively fear-pissing itself over their newborn heir.
I, meanwhile, was exhausted.
I had been alive for barely a day, and I had already been through enough stress to last a lifetime. My poor, tiny body just wanted warmth, sleep, and an environment that wasn't saturated with terror.
Unfortunately, fate had one last humiliation waiting for me.
As we made our way through the palace halls, Verania hummed a victorious tune, practically radiating motherly pride. "Did you see them, my little conqueror? The world bows to you already."
I let out an unintelligible baby noise that was supposed to mean 'Please let me rest, you battle-crazed lunatic.'
Unfortunately, what actually came out was something along the lines of:
"Bwah."
Verania's eyes lit up.
"SHE SPOKE!"
Oh gods.
Sylvithra, despite her eternal calm, allowed herself the tiniest smirk. "She is already making declarations."
That was not a declaration.
That was the cry of a suffering soul.
Verania squeezed me affectionately. "Ah, she is already strong. Just like her mothers."
I did not have the strength to argue this level of delusion.
By the time we reached my over-the-top nursery, I was half-asleep. Verania, still completely overjoyed, sat down on an ornate lounge chair, cradling me carefully. Sylvithra took a seat beside her, crossing her legs gracefully as she observed me with a satisfied expression.
Then—the horror began.
Verania, without hesitation, shifted the silken layers of her robes and prepared to feed me.
My entire soul froze.
Oh no.
Oh hell no.
SYSTEM. SYSTEM, HELP. THIS IS HUMILIATING.
[ …What do you expect me to do? ]
I DON'T KNOW, MAKE IT LESS WEIRD?!
[ You are a baby. This is a natural process. ]
I AM A GROWN WOMAN TRAPPED IN A BABY BODY.
[ Yes. A baby. Who needs to eat. ]
I wanted to die. Again.
But, of course, there was no escape.
I could refuse, but that would only worry them, and the last thing I needed was two emotionally unstable warlords panicking about my well-being.
So, with a deep sense of shame and humiliation, I accepted my fate.
I made peace with the fact that my dignity had been utterly annihilated.
To make it worse, the second I started feeding, Verania looked ready to cry again.
"She's so precious."
Sylvithra, resting her chin on her hand, gave a small, pleased nod. "She is quite adorable."
I didn't need to hear that.
I really didn't need to hear that.
To distract myself, I mentally opened my status screen, focusing on literally anything else while my mothers continued fawning over me.
[ STATUS WINDOW ]
Name: Elyzara Thorne
Race: Highborn Tyrant (?)
Title: Imperial Heir of Velmoria
Level: 1
HP: 100/100
MP: ???
Strength: 0.5
Agility: 0.3
Intelligence: 15 (Newborn Genius)
Charisma: 20 (Adored Tyrant Baby)
Luck: -10 (Cursed Fate)
I hated that my charisma was so high.
It meant that everything I did would be viewed as adorable rather than serious attempts at stopping my warlord mothers from making bad decisions.
I was going to be treated like some kind of divine mascot, wasn't I?
[ Most likely. ]
Once I was finally full, Verania leaned back with a satisfied sigh. Sylvithra, despite her usual stoicism, ran a gentle hand over my tiny head, brushing through what little hair I had.
Then, reluctantly, she stood. "We must attend to our duties."
Verania scowled. "Must we?"
"Yes."
"…I do not wish to leave her."
Sylvithra gave her a flat stare. "The empire will not run itself, Verania."
Verania grumbled. "I do not see why not."
Sylvithra ignored her and turned toward the small group of servants who had been standing at a terrified distance this entire time. "Take care of her."
The servants flinched as if she had just issued a death sentence.
One unfortunate maid stepped forward, bowing so low her forehead nearly touched the floor. "Y-Your Majesties, we shall serve the Imperial Heir with the utmost devotion!"
Verania and Sylvithra stared them down for a solid five seconds, as if evaluating their worthiness.
Finally, Verania gave a dramatic nod. "See to it that she wants for nothing."
And with one last reluctant glance, my tyrant mothers finally left.
The second the door shut behind them, the tension in the room collapsed.
The maids all exhaled shakily, looking like prisoners who had just survived a firing squad.
And then, they all turned to stare at me.
I blinked.
They flinched.
…This was going to be awkward.
Before I could even attempt to process my new situation, my system chimed in.
[ New Mission: Establish trust with the palace servants. ]
…Okay?
[ Many of them currently fear you as a divine omen of destruction. If you wish to succeed in your greater mission, you must first ensure that the palace staff does not faint every time they look at you. ]
That seems reasonable. What's the reward?
[ +5 Charisma. ]
I paused.
…Did I really want more Charisma?
On one hand, it made it easier to manipulate situations in my favor.
On the other hand, it also made people act even more unreasonably devoted to whatever nonsense they thought I represented.
But I didn't really have a choice.
If I was going to survive this ridiculous life, I needed allies. And if the only people brave enough to interact with me were the palace servants, then I needed them on my side.
I took a deep breath.
Alright. Time to befriend some terrified maids.