"Maybe," she replied gently, meeting his gaze. "But duty doesn't make someone show up early to encourage nervous children. Or leave quietly so a teacher can do her work."
A faint smile touched his lips. "You noticed."
"It's hard not to," she said, then laughed softly, embarrassed. "I mean—when someone is… attentive."
His eyes warmed, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Attentive," he repeated, as if testing the word. "And you, Miss Alina, are attentive too. You see their fears before they speak. You celebrate their effort, not just their results."
Her cheeks warmed. "I just want them to feel brave."
"You make them brave," he said simply.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air felt comfortable, easy, threaded with something unspoken.
Alina broke the silence with a small smile. "I suppose we make a decent team."
Dante's brow lifted again, this time with quiet interest. "I suppose we do."
There was silence again, soft and unhurried.
