I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 461 When Light Met Darkness (3)

The Royal family appeared.

The energy of the entire venue changed instantly, conversations falling quiet as attention turned toward the grand entrance. Alongside them walked the highest priest elder, his presence commanding without effort. He looked young, deceptively so, with stunningly long golden hair that fell straight down his back, catching the light like molten metal. His eyelashes were the same shade of gold, almost luminous, and his eyes were a rare silver gold, threaded through with darker streaks that gave his gaze a cold, distant depth. His face was flawless and emotionless, carved into serenity and authority.

As he began his speech, his voice steady and echoing across the clouds, Gabriel barely heard a word.

Because she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Her attention was completely fixed on the priest elder, her dark gaze following every subtle movement, every shift of expression. Something tight and unfamiliar twisted in Gabriel’s chest, sharp and unpleasant.

"You’re looking at her?" his silver haired friend leaned closer, speaking in a low, casual tone, oblivious to the change in Gabriel. "She’s Irish. She likes Sir Santo," he added with a faint chuckle. "She’s pursued him countless times, actually. But Sir Santo... you know how he is. He’s never been interested in anything like that."

Gabriel didn’t respond.

His fingers slowly loosened around the glass as he stared at her, his heartbeat still racing, his instincts screaming in protest and disbelief. The festival noise blurred into the background, the cold air no longer calming but sharp against his skin.

Mate.

The word echoed again.

Didn’t she feel it?

The thought struck him again, sharp and persistent, as he found himself moving after her without consciously deciding to do so. Gabriel was painfully aware of how wrong it was. He had never been the kind to follow someone, to invade another’s space like this. He respected boundaries. He respected silence. And yet his feet kept carrying him forward, his senses tuned only to her presence, his mind emptied of everything else. It was as if the world had narrowed to the quiet distance between them.

He stopped a few steps behind her, hesitating only for a heartbeat before speaking.

"Hey."

She turned around, her brows knitting together slightly as her gaze landed on him.

"What?" she asked flatly.

The word hit harder than he expected.

Gabriel froze. His lips parted, the question rising instinctively to the surface, burning to be spoken.

Don’t you feel it?

Don’t you feel our mate bond?

The words hovered at the edge of his tongue, fragile and dangerous. He could almost hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as he searched her face for something, anything, that mirrored the chaos inside him.

But before he could say a single word, another angel hurried over, gripping her arm lightly.

"Irish," the angel said quickly, excitement clear in his voice. "Sir Santo is meeting with some important people. Maybe you can also get a chance to talk with him too."

Her entire expression changed.

The faint irritation vanished, replaced by open eagerness. Her eyes brightened, and without sparing Gabriel another glance, she nodded eagerly and let herself be pulled away.

Sir Santo.

The name echoed unpleasantly in Gabriel’s mind.

His gaze lifted instinctively, following the direction she went, until it landed on the man standing among the higher ranks. Sir Santo’s presence was commanding in a quiet, distant way. His posture was perfect, his face calm to the point of coldness, his eyes unreadable and detached, as if emotions were a language he had never learned to speak.

Something about that familiar detachment made Gabriel’s chest tighten.

Lord Dante.

The image appeared in his mind. Dante’s dark, expressionless face, his cold authority, the way he carried silence like a weapon. Gabriel remembered how he had stepped aside then, how he had swallowed his own feelings for Miss Alina, because he had seen the light in her eyes whenever she looked at him.

And now...

Now his own mate was looking at another man with that same unmistakable light.

A strange, uncomfortable sensation crept through him, settling low in his chest.

She didn’t feel it.

Or worse... she felt it, and her heart had already chosen someone else.

A flicker of painful emotion crossed Gabriel’s beautiful face. His jaw tightened slightly as he looked away.

"What happened to you?" his friends asked all at once the moment he rejoined them, their voices bubbling with excitement as if they hadn’t noticed the way his expression had subtly dimmed. One of them leaned closer, eyes bright with curiosity, clearly misreading the tension written across Gabriel’s face. "You disappeared so suddenly. Did you see something interesting?"

Before he could answer, someone laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let’s go!" another said eagerly. "Sir Santo is right there. This is our chance. Let’s meet him."

Hands closed around his wrist before he could protest, and Gabriel found himself being pulled forward, his feet moving automatically as his mind lagged behind. The crowd thickened as they approached, young angels gathering in a loose, excited semicircle around the man at the center. Their wings brushed lightly against one another, feathers whispering in the cool night air.

"Please don’t crowd Sir Santo," his caretaker said firmly, stepping half a pace forward. His tone was polite but unyielding. A few angels shuffled back reluctantly, murmuring apologies, though their curious gazes never wavered.

Sir Santo himself remained silent.

He stood with effortless stillness, tall and composed. His attention wasn’t on the people calling his name or the subtle reverence in their posture. Instead, his gaze was lowered, fixed on a small golden disc resting in his palm. The object caught the moonlight, glowing softly. He turned it slowly between his fingers, as if lost in thought, as if the world around him existed at a distance he had no interest in closing.

Gabriel watched him, unease tightening in his chest.

"Sir Santo," one of Gabriel’s friends said brightly, bowing slightly. "It’s an honor to meet you."

Sir Santo lifted his eyes at last.

The moment his gaze swept across the group, the chatter died instantly. His eyes were striking, cool, sharp, and distant, as if they looked through people rather than at them. They paused briefly on each face, assessing without judgment, before settling somewhere just past Gabriel’s shoulder.

Not on him.

He sighed in relief.

"Enjoy the festival," Sir Santo said at last, his voice calm and even, carrying a quiet authority that silenced any lingering excitement. He inclined his head slightly, a gesture polite enough to dismiss them without offense.