CHAPTER 24
A week later.
Once again, the mansion atop the hill in Fran Village.
11 a.m. A little earlier than our usual class time—not too late, not too early. Ed brought Ayla over to visit my mansion.
Ayla carefully stepped down from the carriage with Ed’s escort and greeted me as I came out to meet them.
“Hello, ma’am. I look forward to today as well.”
Ayla’s manners were, as always, flawless.
I couldn’t help but smile warmly.
“Hello, Ayla. I’m counting on you, too.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Unlike before, Ed would be heading out to work today.
Somehow, it really felt like I’d become a kindergarten teacher.
Before I transmigrated, I couldn’t quite make that dream come true and had only worked part-time at kids’ cafés.
‘…That’s strange. I was pretty good at studying.’
Why didn’t I manage it? I don’t remember the details, but I smiled at Ed with a sense of finally living out that old dream.
“Sure. Don’t worry, go ahead.”
Ed nodded.
Before getting back on the carriage, he spoke to Ayla.
“I’ll come pick you up in a bit, Ayla.”
“Yes, Father. Take care.”
Ayla lifted the hem of her dress slightly and curtsied.
After seeing Ed off, I took Ayla’s hand and led her inside the mansion, chatting lightly as we walked.
“How have you been, Ayla?”
“I studied hard in preparation for your lessons, ma’am. I wouldn’t dare waste your precious time.”
…Are you really five years old?
It’s honestly hard to believe she’s the same age as a certain someone who’s currently causing a racket inside the mansion.
‘Well, I suppose Aslan is a normal five-year-old. It’s Ayla who’s unusually mature.’
But why? Even though she’s the daughter of a viscount—granted, a rural noble—and Ed seems genuinely kind to her, Ayla is always so humble, almost self-deprecating.
On top of that, she looked even more drained than usual today.
Did something happen?
As I kept staring at her silently, Ayla grew flustered and glanced at me nervously.
She must’ve thought she’d done something wrong.
I quickly relaxed my expression and squeezed her hand.
“Oh, sorry. You just looked extra cute today—I couldn’t help staring.”
“T-that’s too kind of you. Compared to you, ma’am, I’m…”
Her cheeks flushed red—maybe from the hand-holding or the compliment, I couldn’t tell.
Still, her face looked worn out.
‘Seriously… something’s bothering her, isn’t it?’
But Ayla was clearly not in the mood to talk about it, so I didn’t pry.
Instead, I gave her a bright smile.
“Let’s go in.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Just as I pulled open the mansion door—
Aslan popped out like he’d been waiting.
“Ayla!”
“Hello, Aslan.”
“It’s been forever! I missed you! What’ve you been doing? Wanna play tag?”
“Ah, Aslan… slow down…”
Aslan greeted Ayla with his usual over-the-top energy, and Ayla seemed overwhelmed trying to keep up.
Hmm. Is this what it’s like when an introvert gets their energy drained by an extrovert?
‘At times like this, he’s more like a puppy than a cat.’
Maybe it’s because Ayla’s a girl—and a kid—that Aslan’s more affectionate toward her.
Aslan always preferred girls over boys, and while there aren’t any other kids in the mansion to compare with, even fierce cats are said to be gentle around babies.
I clapped my hands to get the kids’ attention.
“Alright, kids. Let’s head to the study room first.”
“Aww, already?”
Aslan immediately started whining, but Ayla was quiet.
To be honest, Ayla’s calm demeanor is unusual for a child, but from a teacher’s perspective, she couldn’t be easier to deal with.
I only need to manage one very noticeable kid.
“Come on, let’s go.”
I took both kids by the hand and led them into the study room.
This time, instead of separate spots, I sat them side-by-side at a large table.
Aslan pouted.
“Can’t we play and study at the same time?”
I grinned.
“This is a kind of game. You’ll both enjoy it.”
The two of them tilted their heads at me in unison.
They were so adorable, I giggled and pulled out the learning materials I’d prepared.
‘I was worried about how to balance the lesson since they’re on completely different levels—but this should work.’
Aslan had just barely learned what sounds the letters make, while Ayla was already capable of passing entrance exams.
But Aslan is used to playing. Ayla, not so much.
So, I had prepared this:
“Ta-da! A letter puzzle.”
Their eyes widened at the wooden pieces I scattered on the table.
The learning tool I had prepared was a set of wooden letter blocks.
And that wasn’t all.
I also brought out the picture cards I’d prepared.
“Okay~! I’m going to show you a picture card. The first one to spell out the word using the wooden blocks wins!”
“Wow! This sounds fun!”
Aslan’s eyes sparkled with competitive energy, while Ayla looked hesitant.
I could tell exactly why, so I leaned over and asked Ayla softly.
“Too easy and disappointing?”
“N-no, ma’am! I mean—teacher!”
“Hehe. It’s okay, be honest.”
“Um, well…”
She couldn’t quite deny it.
Honestly, Ayla is at about a first-year academy level, despite being only five.
So this lesson might seem like it’s tailored for Aslan, who just started learning letters, but that wasn’t the case.
I smiled confidently as I shuffled the cards.
“Even if you know the answers, going against Aslan won’t be easy.”
“…?”
Ayla looked puzzled.
Seeing is believing.
I pulled out a card.
“What’s this?”
A picture of an apple.
Ayla glanced around at the scattered blocks.
The moment a look of recognition flashed across her face—
“Huh…?”
The blocks Ayla had been eyeing disappeared.
In less than three seconds, most of the blocks she had been reaching for were gone.
Ayla blinked in confusion.
At that moment, Aslan shot his hand into the air.
“Aslan, answer!”
He had completed the word first.
Using his signature sharp reflexes, he had found all the correct blocks in three seconds.
Beaming, Aslan held up the blocks and said,
“Aslan! Apple!”
“Wrong!”
“Whaaat?! Why?!”
Aslan stomped in frustration, and I turned to Ayla, who was still stunned, and smiled smugly.
“See? Not so easy, right?”
Ayla nodded blankly, like she’d just been hit.
I gently asked her,
“Ayla, do you know the answer?”
“Um… well… that is…”
She fidgeted and avoided my eyes.
As expected.
Ayla has plenty of knowledge but lacks the confidence—or shamelessness—that Aslan has.
Even if she knows the answer, she can’t bring herself to say it.
I looked into her eyes and asked kindly,
“What do you say before giving your answer?”
“U-um…”
She glanced at me nervously, then lowered her gaze to the floor again.
I encouraged her softly.
“Hmm? What was it again?”
“U-uhm…”
Ayla opened and closed her mouth, hesitating.
Just moments ago, Aslan had been throwing a fit—but now he encouraged her, too.
“It’s okay, Ayla!”
“Yeah. It’s fine to get it wrong. You can try again.”
I joined Aslan in cheering her on.
Blushing furiously, Ayla looked back and forth between us. Then, seemingly making up her mind, she reached for the blocks.
One by one, she carefully assembled the word.
Then, hesitantly, she raised her hand.
“A-Ayla…”
“Yes, Ayla? Show us your answer!”
“H-here…”
Her face looked like it might explode.
I swear I could hear her heart pounding.
I chuckled softly and awarded her the point.
“Ayla, correct!”
