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... /p>

Damien sat at the villa's study table, elbows propped lazily, head tilted just enough to catch the early morning light that spilled in through the tinted windows. A week ago, textbooks had been foreign bricks. Now, the pages bore the creases of his thumb, margins scrawled with notes in sharp, angular script.

He wasn't perfect. Not even close. But he had clawed his way out of the abyss of ignorance, bit by bit. Maths, magical backgrounds, family history—he hadn't just skimmed; he h ...

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