Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! Chapter 32 32: The Battle for Grandparental Supremacy

I had always known my grandparents were powerful figures, feared across nations, respected by rulers, and capable of shaping the course of history with a single decision.

What I had not expected was that they would also be the pettiest people I had ever t.

The mont we left the courtyard, I was scooped up.

Not by one grandparent.

Not by two.

By all four of them.

At the sa ti.

What resulted was a chaotic tug-of-war over my tiny four-year-old self, each grandparent refusing to relinquish control.

"She prefers my arms," Ilythia declared, holding in an unshakable yet elegant grip.

"She is safest with ," Eryndor countered, trying to pry from her grasp.

Saelira rolled her eyes and effortlessly plucked from both of them. "Nonsense. I am clearly the best suited for this task."

Veylen, who had been quietly calculating weaknesses, simply waited for the exact mont Saelira's attention wavered and then swiftly intercepted .

Everyone froze.

Veylen adjusted his hold, calmly victorious. "It appears I win."

I blinked. "Did I just get used as a prize?"

Mara, walking a safe distance behind, whispered to Elira, "We are watching history unfold."

Elira sighed. "We are watching sheer madness."

After several tense monts of glaring, my grandparents seed to silently agree that sharing was beneath them, and thus, they carried together.

I was now being escorted like an imperial artifact.

By the ti we reached the dining hall, the staff was already in high gear, responding with terrifying efficiency to my grandparents' orders.

Long silver trays were being carried in, steam rising from freshly prepared dishes, the scent of spices, herbs, and slow-roasted ats filling the air.

The table was set with the kind of extravagance normally reserved for royal banquets.

Golden platters glead under the chandelier's glow, each adorned with flawlessly arranged delicacies:

• Velmorian Honeyed Roast – A tender, slow-cooked at glazed with a rich honey sauce, accompanied by caralized root vegetables.

• Silvermoon Risotto – A creamy dish infused with rare moonlit mushrooms that supposedly enhanced magical control.

• Celestial Fruit dley – A plate of exotic, shimring fruits that were rumored to glow softly under starlight.

• Imperial Spice Bread – Warm, golden-brown bread infused with cinnamon, nutg, and a hint of enchanted vanilla.

I stared.

"…Are we feeding an army?"

Ilythia, completely unbothered, gestured for to be seated. "You must eat well, little one."

Eryndor nodded. "A strong body leads to a strong mind."

Saelira gracefully took her seat. "And it would be criminal to let you go a single day without the finest cuisine."

Veylen sipped his tea. "Efficiency dictates proper sustenance."

I sighed. "You all just want an excuse to spoil ."

Not a single one of them denied it.

Then the real battle began.

Because apparently, they also intended to feed themselves.

One by one.

Like I was so prized royal pet.

Eryndor started first, lifting a carefully cut piece of honeyed roast and holding it toward . "Eat."

I reluctantly took a bite.

It was, unsurprisingly, amazing.

Saelira imdiately followed with a spoonful of Silvermoon Risotto, which I barely had ti to swallow before another bite was offered.

Ilythia, with the grace of a seasoned diplomat, handed a delicate piece of Celestial Fruit, the taste of it bursting like sweet starlight on my tongue.

Veylen, not to be outdone, placed a warm piece of Imperial Spice Bread in my hands, as if I were being prepared for so grand ritual.

Mara, watching from a safe distance, whispered, "Is she even chewing?"

Elira, horrified, muttered, "They are genuinely competing over who feeds her the best bite."

By the ti I was halfway full, I was starting to question my survival.

I tried waving my hands. "Okay! I love all of this, but I think I—"

GROWL.

Everyone paused.

The table fell completely silent.

Not because of hunger.

But because I had just rembered sothing important.

I glanced at the clock.

I panicked.

"Oh no," I muttered.

Saelira imdiately leaned forward. "What is it, dear?"

I shifted, adjusting my napkin. "I, um. I have sowhere to be."

Ilythia's brow lifted. "Where, little one?"

I chewed on my lip before saying, "I promised to visit my friend today."

Saelira blinked. "Friend?"

Eryndor frowned. "Who?"

Veylen looked suspicious. "Explain."

I cleared my throat. "Riven. He's my only friend. And I promised to see him once a week."

The tension in the room changed imdiately.

Ilythia's expression softened. "A promise must be honored."

Eryndor leaned back thoughtfully. "A personal friend of yours?"

Saelira tilted her head. "Interesting."

Veylen tapped his fingers against the table. "And where is this Riven currently residing?"

I hesitated. "The, um. The orphanage."

Silence.

A long, drawn-out silence.

And then, all at once my grandparents turned their full attention to my mothers.

Saelira's violet eyes narrowed. "You placed her only friend in an orphanage?"

Eryndor's expression was unreadable. "Fascinating."

Ilythia folded her hands. "Questionable."

Veylen sighed, rubbing his temple. "Expected."

Verania groaned. "Oh, not this again."

Sylvithra calmly sipped her tea. "It was an acceptable arrangent."

Saelira raised a brow. "For whom?"

I blinked. "Oh. Oh, no. Are you about to adopt Riven?"

Eryndor humd. "That is certainly an option."

Verania pointed at him. "No, it is not."

Ilythia smiled. "But what if it was?"

Sylvithra closed her eyes. "You cannot adopt every person Elyzara befriends."

Saelira sipped her wine. "You say that, but here we are."

Veylen set down his teacup. "We will accompany Elyzara to visit this Riven."

I perked up. "Really?"

Ilythia smiled. "Of course, little one."

Eryndor nodded. "It is only proper."

Verania groaned. "Oh, this is going to be a ss."

Sylvithra sighed. "A complete disaster."

Mara, still watching in awe, whispered, "This is the best thing that's ever happened."

And honestly?

I had to agree.

Once the grandparental feeding frenzy finally ended, I slumped back in my chair, feeling decidedly overstuffed and very, very loved.

Every single bite had been carefully selected and personally fed to , and I was certain that I had just consud enough food to last a small kingdom for a week.

Saelira dabbed at my lips with a silk napkin, the way one would handle a treasured artifact. "There. Perfect."

Ilythia smiled, pleased. "Now that you are properly nourished, we can proceed."

I blinked. "Proceed with what?"

Eryndor stood. "You must change before your visit to this Riven."

Veylen nodded. "Your current attire is not suited for travel."

I opened my mouth to protest then realized I had no way out of this.

And so, with absolutely no say in the matter, I was escorted no, paraded back to my chambers.

The mont we stepped inside, my grandparents imdiately took command.

Ilythia gracefully moved to my wardrobe, opening it with a single, elegant motion. "We shall select sothing appropriate."

Saelira tilted her head. "Sothing refined."

Eryndor folded his arms. "Sothing that signifies strength."

Veylen, ever the strategist, murmured, "Sothing practical."

I knew then that this was going to take forever.

The debate started imdiately.

Saelira picked up a luxurious navy-blue gown embroidered with silver filigree, holding it up with a critical eye. "This would suit her complexion."

Ilythia considered it thoughtfully. "It is elegant, but perhaps too formal for an orphanage visit."

Eryndor, without hesitation, pulled a military-style cloak from the wardrobe. "This would establish authority."

Veylen gave him a side glance. "She is four. She does not need to establish authority."

Eryndor raised a brow. "You would have said the sa about her mothers."

Saelira sighed. "This is precisely why we must balance discipline with grace."

Verania, who had been watching from the doorway, smirked. "Oh, I am loving this."

Sylvithra muttered, "We are never leaving this room."

They weren't wrong.

The discussion spiraled further, with each grandparent presenting increasingly contrasting options.

Saelira favored noble attire, rich with embroidery and regal accessories.

Eryndor leaned toward structured ensembles, believing in the importance of a strong silhouette.

Ilythia pushed for sothing comfortable yet refined, focusing on graceful practicality.

Veylen, however, was the one who ended the debate.

Without a word, he pulled a masculine-styled outfit from the wardrobe a tailored navy vest, crisp white shirt, fitted trousers, and a black leather coat lined with silver accents.

The room went silent.

Saelira, surprisingly, humd in approval. "It does suit her."

Eryndor nodded. "Acceptable."

Ilythia smiled. "Charming."

Veylen simply looked at and said, "Efficient."

And just like that, my fate was sealed.

Mara, who had been watching the chaos unfold, whispered, "I can't believe they actually agreed on sothing."

Elira sighed. "It took them long enough."

I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

And honestly?

I loved it.