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... ked open, the soft fabric of the tent ceiling greeted him. The early morning light barely seeped through the tent's canvas, casting a faint golden glow over everything. A familiar presence knelt beside him.
"Good morning, young master," said Marie, her voice as calm and warm as ever. Her smile was soft, carrying the kind of gentle fondness only time and care could cultivate.
Lucien blinked once more, adjusting to the light. "Morning already...?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
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