Retired S-rank father becomes a teacher

My eyes were closed. The air felt cold as we passed through space. Then I heard the waves and the birds, and my nose was filled with the salty smell of the sea. A breath left me. The location was correct, the air blowing into my face matched the temperature and the humidity.

"Princess are you going to keep your eyes closed?"

I gulped. This was it. Slowly opening my eyes, I blinked a few times to get rid of the tears that gathered. The sight was breathtaking. A castle on a cliff. Not just any old castle from a history book; I've seen, read and researched all the medieval castles on Earth, but none were as beautiful as this one.

The stone was black, almost obsidian-like, not those faded gray. A single tower rose in the very back. If it took one step it'd fall straight into the ocean.

A tear rolled down my cheek.

"Shall we?" Silas' hand pulled mine gently and I stumbled along, my eyes glued to the black stones that made up the structure of the princess castle.

Wait. I dug my heels in and pulled back. He turned to me, a questioning look on his face. My heart pounded against my ribcage. I grabbed the hem of my dress and did a little curtsy, bowing and opened my mouth. Words were on the tip of my tongue. Say it.

Sweat beaded on my forehead; I had practiced them in the mirror countless times, hours upon hours. Yet they wouldn't leave my mouth. "I-... um..."

His violet eyes softened and I couldn't bear the disappointment he was surely feeling. A whimper left my lips. A princess needed to speak to her prince properly and yet here I was, stuttering and making a fool of myself, cursing my heartbeat for not slowing down even a little bit. My tongue felt like sandpaper.

His fingers tilted my chin up and I had to look into his eyes. The intensity of his gaze burned my cheeks.

He kissed my lips. Soft and gentle, his tongue parting them as he kissed me deeply, leaving me breathless and my heart racing for a different reason now. The tower behind him called to me. It was where he would claim me fully and I didn't want to spend a second more outside of that room.

"Papa," I finally managed to whisper against his lips. He pulled away with a smirk.

"Yes princess?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and straightened my back. "Let's skip the tour and go straight to our bedroom," I said and pointed at the tower.

A gust of air blew against his black hair, messing it up, yet he still looked handsome. He laughed and shook his head. His eyes turned that color they always did when I was about to be teased mercilessly. Not the kind in bed. No, this was the teasing that made my face red with embarrassment.

"No. A princess gets to see her castle first." His finger booped my nose and he grabbed my hand again. "Every room," he emphasized. "Then the tower."

A sigh left my lips and I let him pull me along to the gate. Just as I gave up on the perfection of the day and the fantasy I had built, I saw the gate and the imperfection stared right at me. Dents. Dents on the black iron gate. The sharp, pointed top was slightly crooked. Slightly. It was barely noticeable to the untrained eye but to me, who had seen hundreds of castle gates in her life, it was like a scar on an otherwise beautiful face. My eyes focused on the dents.

A boop on my nose again. "I see you found them," papa said and chuckled.

"Found what?" I snapped. Then I bit my tongue. That came out too aggressive—my papa didn't deserve such unprincesslike behavior. But he didn't seem to mind. He rubbed the dent with his thumb, the metal creaking as he traced the damage that shouldn't exist. I stared. Maybe he had an important reason for the dent. Yes. Papa was a smart, wise man, everything he did had meaning.

I leaned closer, staring at the dent and then at his hand.

"I had them do it on purpose," he said.

Nodding along, I didn't question his words. Of course it was on purpose. My papa knew what he was doing. A princess needed to trust her prince, especially if that prince was Silas Vane.

"Was it a battle?" I asked, the story behind it suddenly filled my mind. Maybe some barbarian tried to attack his castle, but Papa won and the dent was the last trace of their fight. It made sense.

"No, you would remember the imperfections more than the perfection, and you do." He kissed my forehead. "I told them to add some flaws, so you could focus on them."

His hand patted my head, but I was frozen. My mouth hung open. Did he just say that?

No. I misheard. I looked at the dent, then back to his smooth, unbothered face, waiting for the punchline.There was no way my papa thought I would appreciate dents on my gate. A princess needed a perfect gate to her castle. It was the boundary line of our world. He had to know that.

But when I looked up at him, there was no lie in his violet eyes. He was serious.

One. Two. Deep breaths.

"Papa are you saying there are more flaws in my castle?" I asked, my voice trembling.

His thumb brushed over my bottom lip and then he turned away, walking inside. "Come in and see for yourself, princess."

My fists clenched and unclenched. I had no choice but to follow him and see all the dents, the vines growing in the wrong spots—how did they even grow in the lamp posts?—the furniture not in the correct position. A chair that close to the fireplace? The fire would burn the wood! What was wrong with him.

Silently I walked through the halls, glaring at the crooked painting frames. Just enough to notice but not enough to make it ugly. Naturally I adjusted them as we walked past. One by one because he had made every single one wrong on purpose. This wasn't a few flaws. This was a nightmare for someone as perfect as me. My jaw turned stiff. My tongue was getting heavy in my mouth and I had to stop counting my steps. We stepped into a kitchen area, and I held my breath.

My kitchen. My perfect kitchen that was supposed to have the finest silverware, the newest magical appliances, and no dirt in the corners. The knives were smudged, and the floor had a single dog hair on it.

"What do you think?" He leaned against the marble counter, crossing his arms. I didn't respond. Purple mana flared in my hands and I made sure the dog hair was gone.

His smile grew as I cleaned my castle. I wasn't a servant. Nina was my servant, not me. The anger in my veins boiled, hotter with each room. My feet were heavy. I refused to hold his hand, no matter how much he offered with that sly smile of his. This wasn't funny at all.

We entered the living room and I snapped.

"Enough." I didn't care how soft the carpet felt beneath my feet; I was past the point of admiring anything. He was sitting in one of the chairs, a goblet of wine in his hand. He purposely slurped on it to annoy me. Loudly.

"Yes princess?" he asked with an innocent smile. He was enjoying this.

I dashed to him. My legs carried me fast enough and I was on him in an instant, his silver goblet of wine falling to the carpet, red wine staining the blue carpet as I climbed onto his lap. He didn't flinch. His big hands held my hips to keep me steady. I was fuming, my skin burning hot, and I was not a child to be teased.

I would claim him right here. Right now.