I Became a Kindergarten Teacher for Monster Babies!-Chapter 553 You look like a very strict teacher

Chapter 553: Chapter 553 You look like a very strict teacher

She pointed at the notebook in his hand. "And why are you holding my classroom notes?"

Dante lifted the book slightly, showing the cover. "I am studying."

Alina blinked again. "You are studying... kindergarten lesson plans?"

"Yes."

"You are reading my handwriting?"

"It is surprisingly legible."

She sighed dramatically, pressing a hand to her forehead. "You are really doing this."

"Yes."

"Teaching babies."

"Yes."

"With magical perception glasses."

"Yes."

"And my notebook."

"Yes."

"And rolled up sleeves."

He glanced down at his forearms.

"That is for comfort."

"It is for intimidation."

"Perhaps both."

Alina stared at him for several seconds, taking in the whole picture. The glasses. The sleeves. The hair. The calm confidence radiating from every inch of him.

"You know," she said slowly, "most substitute teachers just show up with a lesson plan. They do not do... this."

"This is more effective."

"You have not even started yet."

"I am preparing."

She stepped closer again, reaching up to straighten his collar slightly, even though it was already perfect.

"The children are going to be very confused."

"They will adapt."

"Luna will challenge your authority immediately."

"I expect nothing less."

"Drake will ask about fire within the first five minutes."

"I have prepared a response."

"Kelpie will flood something."

"I have towels."

Alina’s hands dropped to his chest, resting there lightly.

"You thought of everything."

"I tried."

She looked up at him, at this ridiculous, wonderful, impossible man who was about to teach kindergarten in magical glasses and rolled sleeves.

"I still think you should let me come."

"No."

"I could just sit in the back."

"No."

"Watch silently."

"No."

"Take notes on your performance?"

Dante considered this for half a second.

"...Still no."

She sighed.

"You are so stubborn."

"I learned from the best."

"I am not stubborn."

"You argued with me for an hour last night about taking one day off."

"That was different."

"It was exactly the same."

She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it.

"...Fine. But I want a full report."

"You will receive one."

"In detail."

"Every moment."

She nodded, satisfied.

Then she looked at him again, at the glasses, at the sleeves, at the notebook in his hand.

"You look really good," she admitted quietly.

His smile softened.

"Thank you, little dove."

She rose on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Do not let them eat too many snacks."

"I will monitor sugar intake."

"And do not let Boo convince you to tell ghost stories."

"I will remain firm."

"And do not—"

He kissed her forehead gently, cutting her off.

"I will be fine. They will be fine. Go rest."

She sighed, leaning into him for just a moment.

"...Fine."

But as she watched him walk toward the door, notebook in hand, glasses glinting in the morning light, she had a feeling this was going to be a very interesting day.

For everyone.

****

Alina had exaggerated a lot about the babies the night before and in the morning.

Alina knew that very well.

The children were not tiny disasters the way she had described them. Yes, they were energetic, dramatic, sometimes chaotic, but they were also sweet and eager to learn. They listened more often than not. They tried their best. They had good hearts.

Still, she had listed every possible problem, every worst case scenario, every chaotic outcome she could imagine, just to make Dante hesitate. Just to make him reconsider this ridiculous plan.

Unfortunately, he had ignored every warning with the same calm, infuriating expression, as if she had been describing a mildly inconvenient walk in the park instead of a room full of supernatural toddlers.

Now there was nothing left for her to do except rest and watch.

Breakfast was already served in the castle dining hall. Morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows, warming the long wooden table where the four of them sat together. Plates of toast, fresh fruit, and warm pastries filled the center while the quiet clink of cups echoed gently in the peaceful room.

Alina held her tea carefully, still sneaking glances at Dante across the table.

He looked dangerously handsome.

White shirt, crisp and perfect. Black trousers, sharply fitted. The sleeves rolled just so, revealing his forearms in a way that felt almost intentional. His dark hair was tied loosely back, those few strands falling artfully along his temples.

And the glasses.

Thin framed glasses that caught the morning light and made him look like he belonged on the cover of a very serious romance novel.

And that same composed expression, as if he were about to give a lecture on advanced shadow manipulation instead of whatever he was actually about to do today.

Lucien and Sable had both gone strangely quiet.

They were staring at him.

Not just glancing. Staring. Their small faces frozen in expressions of deep confusion and concern.

Lucien was the first to speak, his voice careful and measured.

"Dad?"

Dante looked up calmly from his tea.

"Yes?"

Lucien pointed slowly, deliberately, at Dante’s face.

"At your face."

Dante blinked once.

"What about it?"

Lucien leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes narrowing.

"...You have glasses."

Dante adjusted them lightly on the bridge of his nose, a small satisfied smile playing at his lips.

"Yes."

Sable’s eyes widened in genuine concern.

"Dad... are you sick?" he asked very seriously, his little voice trembling slightly. "Are your eyes broken? Do we need to find a healer?"

Alina nearly choked on her tea, quickly covering her mouth with both hands.

Dante looked mildly offended, his eyebrow lifting.

"I am not sick. My eyes are not broken."

Lucien continued observing him with intense focus, like a scientist studying a strange new specimen.

"You have never worn glasses before."

"I have."

Lucien shook his head immediately, certain.

"No you have not. I would remember. I remember everything."

"Not everything."

"Everything important. Glasses are important."

Dante paused, considering his response.

"...I have worn them privately."

Sable leaned closer across the table, stretching as far as his small arms would allow.

"Dad looks like a teacher," he whispered loudly, pointing at Alina. "Like a teacher but a boy version. Teacher with darker hair."

Alina covered her mouth harder, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

Lucien nodded slowly, still studying his father with those intense eyes.

"...You look like a very strict teacher," he announced. "The kind who gives extra homework for no reason."

Dante set down his tea cup with deliberate calm.

"That is an interesting observation."

Lucien looked deeply unconvinced.

"You have a resting scary face."

"I do not have a resting scary face."

Sable nodded vigorously. "Yes you do. Lucien is right. Your face is scary when you think. And when you drink tea. And when you look at windows. And when you just exist."

Dante turned to Alina.

"Did you teach them to say these things?"

Alina shook her head, still laughing silently.

"They came up with this entirely on their own. I take no credit."

Lucien pointed at the glasses again. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

"Why are you wearing them now?"