Now, all I had to do was somehow survive the rest of my childhood without being worshipped as a living weapon of destruction.
…Yeah.
That was going to be a lot harder than I thought.
At least the maids weren't terrified of me anymore. That was progress. Instead of looking at me like I was an unstoppable force of doom, they now hesitantly regarded me as an actual baby. A very important, possibly magical, slightly terrifying baby but a baby nonetheless.
That was good.
That was progress.
And then, disaster struck.
It started as a strange feeling. A deep, foreboding sensation that spread through my tiny body.
Something was wrong.
I tensed, my newborn instincts screaming at me. My stomach felt weirdly heavy, like some dark force had begun to stir within me.
Oh.
Oh no.
No, no, no I realized what was happening.
I realized what my tiny, helpless, newborn body was about to do.
And I hated every single second of it.
I was about to shit myself.
Horrifying.
I had survived death, reincarnation, and a kingdom full of terrified nobles, but now I was about to face the worst humiliation yet.
There was no stopping it.
There was no dignity.
There was only shame.
And so, as the maids stood around me, talking softly, trying to relax, I a grown woman in the body of a newborn tyrant baby completely soiled myself.
I wanted to die again.
One of the maids froze.
Another one sniffed the air.
A heavy silence fell over the room.
"Oh. Oh no."
One of the maids gasped in horror.
Another covered her mouth. "T-The Imperial Heir has…"
The maid closest to me looked like she wanted to flee the room. "We must… we must change her."
They all stared at each other, eyes wide with terror.
I stared at them, eyes full of despair.
Nobody wanted this.
And yet, it had to be done.
After what felt like an eternity of tense silence, one of the maids finally squared her shoulders and stepped forward.
"Prepare the changing supplies," she said, voice shaking with barely contained fear.
A second maid hurriedly rushed to the side of the room, where an ornate golden changing table sat beside a stack of silk diapers embroidered with the imperial crest.
Yes. You heard that right.
My diapers had the imperial crest on them.
Because of course they did.
I wanted to scream.
The maids worked quickly, as if they were handling an explosive device. One gently lifted me while another undid the horrific mess I had created.
They moved efficiently, but I could see the sheer horror in their eyes.
One of them was muttering prayers under her breath.
Another was visibly sweating.
The maid actually cleaning me looked like she was about to pass out.
I had been reduced to an embarrassing, helpless mess.
A divine being brought low.
A terror made human… defeated by a dirty diaper.
I hated everything.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of shame, the maids finished their task.
One of them carefully fastened the new diaper around me, her hands trembling as if she had just handled dark magic.
Another wrapped me in fresh silks, as if trying to erase the memory of what just happened.
Then, collectively, they all stepped back and exhaled.
One of them wiped her forehead. "We… we did it."
Another looked down at me with pure, unfiltered relief. "It is done."
I wanted to crawl into a hole and never return.
Unfortunately, I was still a baby, so my only option was to gurgle in shame.
One of the maids giggled.
The others stared at her like she had just committed blasphemy.
Then, another maid smiled.
Then another.
And before I knew it, the entire group of maids was relaxing, laughing softly, and looking at me with actual warmth instead of terror.
"She's really just a baby," one of them murmured, as if they were only now truly understanding it.
"She is adorable," another admitted hesitantly.
"She must be so tired after all this."
Oh.
Oh.
I see what's happening.
This whole horrific experience had somehow humanized me in their eyes.
I had lost my dignity, but gained their trust.
…At what cost?
[ Mission Update: Maid Affection +10. Reputation as a Divine Overlord -5. ]
I was too tired to care.
All I wanted was to forget this happened.
But unfortunately for me, the maids were now very attached.
And that meant one thing:
They wanted to play with me.
Before I could even attempt to process my shame, one of the maids gently poked my cheek.
I flinched.
Another wiggled her fingers in front of my face.
I blinked in confusion.
Suddenly a toy was shaken in front of me.
Oh.
Oh no.
They were playing peekaboo.
I had survived so much. I had faced humiliation, terror, and warlords.
But this?
This was pure suffering.
I refused to react.
I refused to give in.
I was stronger than this.
But one of them shook a rattle.
My traitorous newborn brain reacted before I could stop it.
My eyes locked onto the rattle.
The maids gasped.
"She likes it!"
No.
No, I did not.
But it was too late.
I had already been doomed.
The maids took my reaction as encouragement.
And thus, I was subjected to the most humiliating thirty minutes of my life as a group of fully grown adults entertained me like I was an infant who didn't understand the concept of shame.
Which, to be fair, is exactly what they thought I was.
And maybe… just maybe… it wasn't the worst thing in the world.
Because, despite my internal suffering, I could see it in their eyes.
They weren't afraid of me anymore.
They saw me as a baby.
A normal, adorable, powerful, potentially dangerous baby but a baby nonetheless.
It was progress.
And, somehow, in the middle of it all, I fell asleep.