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Elyzara Thorne was just an ordinary woman until she died in the dumbest way possible. One moment she was walking down the street, the next, she was choking on a piece of candy and face-planting into the afterlife. Before she could even process her own stupidity, a snarky system appeared and dumped her into the body of a newborn baby.

Sounds bad? Oh, it gets worse.

Her new moms are the most terrifying tyrants the world has ever seen two ridiculously powerful empresses who rule with an iron fist, burn cities for fun, and make their enemies weep in fear. The entire kingdom is one bad day away from rebellion, and Elyzara’s new mission (whether she likes it or not) is to stop these two overpowered warlords from getting themselves overthrown.

The problem?
	•	She’s a literal infant.
	•	Her moms worship the ground she drools on and think she’s the best thing since world domination.
	•	Everyone around her is scared shitless of her “divine presence,” making diplomacy nearly impossible.

Can Elyzara stop her bloodthirsty parents from committing war crimes before she’s old enough to walk? Or is she doomed to be the adorable mascot of tyranny?

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

The walk back to my dorm felt longer than it should have.

Not because of the distance my room at Arcanum was conveniently perched in the east wing like a well-guarded secret but because my thoughts, as usual, were staging a civil war behind my eyes. There were far too many threads in my mind to pull apart. Verania's warning. Sylvithra's not-so-subtle affection. Velka's evasive glances. Riven's overly delighted commentary.

I slammed the door to my room shut behind me with a dramatic sigh only slightly louder than necessary. The enchanted wards clicked into place with a soft hum, recognizing me and Smaug's magical signatures. My personal sanctuary, at last.

Velmorian Bedtime, Part I