Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I'm Stuck as Their Baby!-Chapter 124: Scars and Secrets

Mara and Elira were finally granted their freedom from the infirmary later that afternoon—an event that felt suspiciously like a royal pardon from imprisonment. I was there when the healers declared them fit, Mara flexing her newly healed arm experimentally, Elira rotating her shoulders with cautious satisfaction.

"I feel like I've been locked in here forever," Mara sighed dramatically, stretching her arms skyward as though she'd just been released from a dungeon sentence rather than a room filled with feathered pillows and gentle healers.

"You were here two days, Mara," I said dryly, crossing my arms.

"Two days of captivity," Elira corrected solemnly, eyes sparkling with laughter. "We were practically prisoners."

"You two were more pampered than a pair of spoiled palace cats," I retorted.

Mara sniffed theatrically. "The trauma remains."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Come on. Let's get you both back to normal."

As they walked away, still laughing, voices fading down the hall, I caught sight of Sylvithra whispering urgently to one of the royal guard captains near the infirmary doors. Her usually serene face was taut, lips set in a thin, tight line. The guard nodded stiffly and turned quickly down the corridor, disappearing swiftly around the corner.

Curiosity tugged sharply at my chest, suspicion immediately flaring. Sylvithra never looked troubled without reason. Especially not so openly. Quietly, I slipped into the shadows cast by the ornate, spiraled columns lining the corridor, blending easily into the half-light. A thrill of excitement mixed sharply with anxiety as I followed my mother silently toward the council chamber.

Sylvithra's footsteps were purposeful, her graceful stride somehow rigid, every movement laced with unspoken tension. She reached the carved oak doors of the council chamber, pausing briefly before pushing them open to reveal the assembled group waiting inside.

I crept forward silently, pressing myself firmly against the cool stone wall just outside the slightly open door. My heartbeat quickened, a quiet rush of adrenaline sharpening my senses.

Inside, seated around a polished ebony table engraved with silver runes, were my parents, my grandparents, and a handful of elite royal guard commanders, all appearing grim and focused. The air was thick with barely suppressed tension.

Verania's golden eyes were sharp and dangerous, like twin blades poised to strike. "Show us," she demanded coldly.

A guard captain an older man with silver-streaked hair and a long scar slashed across his left cheek stepped forward, carefully placing something small onto the gleaming table.

From my hiding spot, I craned my neck slightly, squinting to make out the object clearly. It was a strange amulet, crafted from polished obsidian, runes shimmering faintly across its surface, pulsing gently with a dim, violet energy.

Sylvithra's eyes narrowed sharply. "Where did you find this?"

The guard captain straightened, voice respectful yet tense. "On one of the kidnappers' corpses, Your Majesty. He attempted to destroy it before his death but we were able to retrieve it mostly intact."

Verania leaned forward slowly, golden gaze piercing and suspicious. "You recognize these runes, Sylvithra?"

Sylvithra nodded stiffly, lips pressing into a thin, displeased line. "They match perfectly the fragments of energy from the old rituals of the Arcanum."

A cold, heavy silence fell over the room like a shroud. My heartbeat quickened anxiously, chest tightening painfully. The Arcanum. My school.

Grand Empress Saelira leaned forward carefully, violet eyes dangerously narrowed, voice deceptively soft. "Are you suggesting the Arcanum itself is compromised?"

Sylvithra hesitated, silver eyes shadowed darkly. "Possibly. The rituals were banned decades ago. Someone with access—someone within the academy may have revived them."

Grand Warlord Eryndor's deep voice rumbled with quiet menace. "This would explain how they bypassed Elyzara's protections. If the Arcanum is compromised, our enemies have access to knowledge they should not possess."

I pressed my back tightly against the cold stone, heart hammering wildly in my chest, mind racing furiously. The implications twisted sharply through my thoughts, icy fear coiling tightly in my stomach. Someone at the Arcanum someone I saw every day could be part of the plot against me.

Grand Strategist Veylen's voice was quietly measured, yet hard-edged. "We must consider withdrawing Elyzara from the school immediately. Her safety cannot be guaranteed."

Sylvithra sighed quietly, a rare show of vulnerability briefly crossing her elegant features. "Removing Elyzara completely will alert our enemy that we suspect them. We'd lose the chance to identify the traitor."

Verania's expression hardened dangerously. "Then we send her back with additional protection. Discreetly."

Grand Consort Ilythia's calm, steady voice cut gently through the tension. "Elyzara's return to school is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Can we ensure her safety in that time?"

The guard captain inclined his head sharply. "We can deploy additional guards disguised as staff and students. If the traitor is within the Arcanum, we'll find them."

Verania's voice was cold, fierce, and utterly terrifying. "Good. Find them swiftly and bring them to me alive."

I swallowed sharply, anxiety clawing sharply at my chest. My family's protectiveness was comforting but this new threat, hidden within the familiar walls of my own school, was deeply unsettling. Anyone could be an enemy. Anyone.

As the voices within the chamber grew quieter, tense plans and whispered orders fading into silence, I slipped silently away, retreating swiftly down the corridor, footsteps echoing faintly against the marble floors.

My mind raced wildly, heart hammering anxiously. Who within the Arcanum could betray us? Teachers I trusted? Students I considered friends? Doubt crept insidiously through my thoughts, poisoning my trust, spreading quietly through my veins.

Lost in thought, I nearly collided directly with Mara and Elira as they rounded the corner, both now fully dressed and smiling lightly though their expressions faltered slightly at my stricken face.

"Elyzara?" Mara asked gently, eyes narrowing slightly in concern. "What's wrong?"

I hesitated, swallowing sharply, quickly forcing a neutral expression onto my face. "Nothing. Just tired."

Elira's sharp gaze softened slightly, expression turning gently skeptical. "You're a terrible liar, Elyzara."

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"I'm fine," I repeated stubbornly, though my voice wavered slightly.

Mara gently touched my shoulder, her eyes warm and reassuring. "You know you can talk to us, Elyzara. We're always here."

I hesitated slightly, aching to confide in them but painfully aware of the danger. I trusted them but how far could that trust extend, knowing how deep this conspiracy might reach?

I managed a weak smile, shaking my head slightly. "Later, maybe. Right now, I just need to clear my head."

Mara and Elira exchanged worried glances but nodded gently. "Alright," Mara murmured softly. "We'll be here."

I walked slowly away, each step heavier than the last, anxiety tightening sharply in my chest. Questions swirled endlessly through my thoughts, suspicions gnawed relentlessly at my mind. Betrayal was an ugly wound and the idea that it might strike from those I trusted most was nearly unbearable.