I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!

Is this supposed to impress me? he thought, his gaze cutting her down as if she were no more than smoke. I am not a man swayed by flesh, nor a lord who bows to ambition dressed as loyalty. Beauty rots. Power fades. But heart and truth, those endure. And she has neither.

His face stayed carved in stone, betraying nothing of the disdain in his mind. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat and cold, making the hall fall silent.

"Your presence is noted," he said, dismissing her with nothing more than a flick of his gaze. "You may leave."

The demoness faltered, clearly unused to rejection, and the whispers around her sharpened with ridicule.

After the meeting ended, Dante adjusted the folds of his dark attire, the heavy cloak sweeping the floor as he strode down the corridor. His expression was carved in stone, crimson eyes shadowed with thought, his tall figure radiating a silent warning to anyone foolish enough to approach. His dark hair fell across his forehead, framing the sharp lines of his face, but he made no move to shift it aside. Every step echoed like judgment, unyielding and precise.

When he pushed open the doors to his private chamber, the air shifted. He paused, his eyes narrowing as he felt the intrusive presence inside.

"Do you like being rejected?" Dante's voice was low, sharp as a blade. His gaze locked on the demoness waiting for him, unblinking and void of warmth. "You must, if you dare remain here after I dismissed you. But I do not repeat myself twice."

The woman flinched at his cold words, but she steadied her composure quickly, draping herself in a smile. "Then perhaps I won't ask to be queen," she purred, lowering her lashes as she stepped closer, "but allow me at least the honor of warming your bed. For me, Lord Dante, that alone would be a blessing."

Dante's jaw tightened. The flicker of disgust in his eyes was enough to freeze the chamber's air.

"You mistake me for a lesser demon," he said icily. "I do not indulge in what is thrown at my feet. Leave, or I will escort you out myself, without care for your pride or your body."

The threat in his voice was unmistakable. It was not lust in his eyes, nor even anger, only a frightening self-control, the kind born of discipline and scars. The demoness, who had seen countless lords crumble to beauty and temptation, faltered for the first time. His restraint was not weakness; it was more terrifying than any hunger she had encountered.

Her painted smile wavered, and at last she bowed her head, stepping back. "I… understand, my lord. Forgive my insolence. I will not overstep again."

"See that you don't," Dante replied, his tone final, his crimson eyes like iron nails pinning her in place.

She turned quickly, the sharp click of her heels echoing as she left his chamber. Only when the door closed behind her did Dante allow the silence to settle, heavy and absolute.

Beauty fades. Flesh deceives. Ambition poisons. His thoughts curled darkly.

******

"So, what do you two usually do when you're home, in your free time?" Alina asked gently once she finished her chores. She sat down near them with a curious smile, wanting to know more about their little lives.

Lucien thought for a moment, then answered in his soft, steady tone. "Well… I kind of read the books Dad prepared for me. And sometimes I play in my playroom… or just rest in my bed."

Alina nodded, her eyes shining warmly, then turned toward Sable. He fidgeted with his fingers and finally muttered shyly, "I-I write…"

Her eyes widened with surprise and delight. "Really?" she asked, leaning a little closer, her expression full of encouragement.

Sable gave a tiny nod, his cheeks pink. "Y-yes… I don't know many words, but I write because sometimes I forget things. If I keep them in my notebook, I can remember again." A small, hopeful smile tugged at his lips as he explained.

Alina's heart melted at his honesty. "That's so wonderful, Sable!" she said warmly. "You've already made such a good habit at your age. Do you know… whatever we write with our full heart always has a way of coming true?"

Sable blinked, his little eyes growing round. "R-really?"

"Of course," Alina replied, her voice bright and encouraging. She stood up quickly, went to her bag, and returned with a small diary she had brought for herself. The cover was light pink with a heart in the center, soft and inviting. She placed it gently in Sable's hands.

"I bought this to write notes in, but I think you'll love it more," she said cheerfully.

Sable stared at it as though it were the most precious treasure. "R-really? I can take it??" he asked, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Yes, of course," Alina laughed, patting his head. "You can write anything you want inside. It's all yours."

Sable's eyes lit up, shining like stars, and he hugged the little diary close to his chest as if it were a priceless gift. Lucien, watching quietly from beside him, gave a rare, soft smile too, because seeing Sable happy made his own heart feel lighter.

Lucien tilted his head, curiosity sparkling in his crimson eyes. "Sable, what will you write first? Will you tell us?"

Sable hugged the little pink diary tightly to his chest, his cheeks flushing. "N-no…" he mumbled, shaking his head shyly.

Alina chuckled, her eyes soft as she reached over to ruffle his small horns. "Lucien, maybe he'll only tell us once his wish comes true," she teased gently.

Lucien broke into laughter at that, his elegant composure giving way to genuine amusement. "Hah, then we'll just have to wait, won't we?"

Sable smiled back, wide and silly, nodding as though he had just made the most important secret pact of his life. The diary pressed against his chest, his little face glowed with excitement, and Alina's heart warmed at the sight of both boys—one laughing, the other smiling bashfully, yet both looking like ordinary children sharing a precious, innocent moment together.