The Noble Kindergarten Teacher’s Daily Struggles
Episode 2
The consultation room.
Thin steam curled from the teacups placed before the two men. In the heavy silence, Efna was the first to speak.
“Guardians.”
“Guardians?”
“It’s just her older brother, Teacher. Please speak comfortably.”
Her single address earned her two replies.
One was the Emperor.
The other, the Captain of the Grand Temple’s Knights.
‘Comfortably? How on earth am I supposed to do that?’
And yet—look at His Imperial Majesty himself, seated serenely in a cute little chair decorated with chicks. He stirred his teacup with unhurried grace.
“Since you’ve called us here, I expect what you have to say will be worth our while.”
She already felt crushed beneath the pressure. This wouldn’t do.
‘No. If I fold now, I’ll be dragged around until Maxion graduates. Not happening, Efna.’
With as much kindness as she could muster—yet not so much as to seem meek—Efna lifted her lips into a light smile.
“Yes. Then I’ll speak plainly.”
“Plainly?”
“Both of your younger siblings have been quarreling frequently. I believed a consultation was necessary.”
In short: they were troublemakers.
The hand that had so leisurely lifted the teacup froze. The lips that had been smiling faintly hung open.
‘What’s the matter? You said to speak plainly.’
Efna beamed brightly.
To be precise, only Efna was smiling—shining like sunlight, befitting the Sunbeam Class’s teacher.
Clink. The sound of a teacup being set down rang sharp and clear. Maxion’s elder brother, none other than the Emperor of the Empire, Nos Gidhyde, asked with remarkable calm:
“Quarreling frequently? What do you mean by that?”
Well—he was the Emperor. But must he keep slipping into informal speech?
“……”
Yes, all right. He was the Emperor indeed.
Their eyes met, and Efna flinched, glancing away. It was true what they said—even the central nobility barely dared breathe in his presence.
‘Get a grip. Lose here and you’ll be dragged along for years, Efna.’
Beneath the desk, her fist clenched tight. Her voice, when it emerged again, was gentle as silk.
“Children this age are extremely active. It’s the stage where their large muscles develop, so naturally, they move about quite a lot.”
How to handle a parent consultation, Step 1: Lay the groundwork.
Step 2: More groundwork.
Step 3: Even more groundwork.
Convince the guardians: There’s nothing seriously wrong with your child. Put them at ease first.
And then they would inevitably ask—
“And what does that have to do with quarreling?”
“Well, isn’t running and playing energetically a good thing?”
Like so. And from there, the real point.
“However, because of that, they sometimes struggle to control their strength and end up hurting others.”
“……”
“Arguments easily escalate into physical fights. Children aren’t yet skilled at regulating their emotions, so their hands tend to fly first.”
In other words: when they argued, it quickly turned into a brawl.
The Emperor tapped his foot idly, eyes haughty.
“Are you saying someone dared lay hands on the body of the Imperial Prince?”
He would never assume his own sibling was the one at fault. Not even the Emperor was immune to that.
At his provocation, Mayrin’s older brother—the Captain of the Grand Temple’s Knights—slowly brushed his hair back.
“So His Highness is the one prone to mischief, then.”
“Mischief…? Should you die for slandering the royal house, your sweet little sister would grieve deeply.”
Tok, tok. The Emperor tapped his cup as though it were the Knight-Captain’s very lifeline.
“If I were to die, it’s the people of the Empire who would grieve most. The Grand Temple would renounce its alliance with the Empire and return to neutrality.”
Expressionless, Mayrin’s brother raised the teacup to his lips.
“So the Grand Temple’s vaunted creed of serving the people is worth only that much? To abandon the Empire’s people over the death of a single knight?”
“No one may dismiss the death of the Captain of the Grand Temple’s Knights as a mere trifle.”
“And no one has ever insulted the Imperial House and lived to tell of it.”
“A House incapable of humbly receiving even minor criticism—pitiful, truly.”
As the two men bristled with lethal tension, only Efna sagged inwardly with exhaustion.
‘Where else in the world does an Emperor and a Knight-Captain threaten executions and diplomatic breakdowns in a kindergarten consultation room?’
Quietly, she exhaled. Then, lips pressed, her voice came out firmer.
“Both children are equally to blame—taking turns saying ‘You started it first.’”
The room fell abruptly silent. At her words, the two men, who had been snarling at one another, shut their mouths.
‘Surprised, are you? That your own sibling might also bear responsibility?’
Look at their faces—utter shock, as though they’d just been shown an impossible truth. Almost pitiful.
“That can’t be… Mayrin cherishes even passing insects, Teacher.”
Yes, she’d thought the same when reading the original story. But while Mayrin might spare bugs, she had no qualms yanking classmates’ hair.
“Maxion has been faithfully following Imperial etiquette lessons.”
Yes, yes. Efna knew from the novel he was diligent. But that and this were two different matters.
She lifted her teacup with impeccable composure. The men’s eyes fixed tensely on her.
They thought: There’s no way my sibling could… And yet they worried all the same.
The moment guardians wavered, the teacher had already seized the initiative.
“As I’ve said, it’s difficult for children this age to restrain their impulses. But the greater concern lies elsewhere.”
“……”
“If this continues, the other children will struggle to befriend them.”
The words hadn’t even finished echoing before both handsome faces went rigid.
‘My sibling, whom no one dares defy—the Empire’s sole Crown Prince?’
‘My sibling, the High Priest’s treasured youngest daughter?’
And yet no one would approach them. Their foreheads all but bore those very words.
“Of course, I’ll do my utmost as their teacher. But I must ask for your cooperation at home as well.”
Efna smiled sweetly. Behind it stretched suffocating silence.
‘Ah, these parenting novices.’
Compared to the countless parents she’d dealt with, these two were like tame lambs—or rather, tame predators.
Mayrin’s brother swiftly concealed his discomposure.
“I… shall speak to her firmly.”
Maxion’s elder brother followed, voice heavy.
“I’ll have the royal tutors informed.”
“No, Your Majesty. Personally.”
“…What?”
“I understand Your Majesty is incredibly busy. Still—I recommend you personally speak with Maxion.”
His sharply slanted eyes flickered, almost incredulous. The Emperor—flustered? Or perhaps simply stunned.
But what could be done? A peaceful home life, a peaceful kindergarten life—it all began with family dialogue.
“Do you not know who I am?”
“I do. You are the very sky of the Empire.”
“Then you know how much of my time has already been spent here.”
“Yes. Which is why I believe that if you can spare time even for this, you’ll surely devote even more care to Maxion.”
Watching their exchange, Efna had learned much: how not to yield a single word.
So she steeled herself, throwing caution aside to be bolder still.
“You…”
The Emperor began to speak—but cut himself short, lips closing tight.
The blazing orange eyes, hailed by the people as the sun over snowcapped peaks, fixed intently on her.
Yes—Efna’s knees went weak.
‘Too bold? Maybe dying once really did erase all my sense of caution.’
Her pale hands folded neatly together atop her lap, striving for utmost deference.
But just as she did, Mayrin’s brother casually added fuel:
“The Teacher is right. There’s nothing so pathetic as neglecting one’s family under the guise of busyness.”
With that gentle smile, he had just taken a jab at the Emperor.
Yet he seemed to forget—he was in the exact same position.
Efna forced a strained smile his way.
“That, ah… applies to you as well, sir.”
“…Hm?”
He’d been thinking he was exempt, clearly.
“I suggest both of you speak with the children about their lives at kindergarten.”
It was occupational hazard.
Even trembling, she couldn’t stop herself from saying what needed to be said. The desperate flailing of a teacher determined not to be steamrolled.
And it seemed to work. Both men fell silent, complex expressions on their faces.
‘Plenty to think about, no doubt.’
She sipped her cooling tea once more.
Clack. As the cup touched down, the consultation room door creaked open. Tiny footsteps pattered in.
“Teacherrr…”
“Mayrin?”
All eyes turned.
There stood Mayrin—sweet and adorable as a baby bird.
Her brother, legs still crossed, extended one hand toward her.
“Mayrin, were you bored? Come here.”
Stretching out her short legs, Mayrin toddled forward.
One step. Three steps. Five steps. Right up to her brother’s knees—and then!
“Mayrin?”
She walked right past him.
Completely ignoring her beloved brother, she flung herself into Efna’s arms.
