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You lie strewn out across your bed, gut full of food and head full of dreams after a long night of bread and circus in the chapel halls. You feel the gentle caress of light on your cheek–the sun as it rises over the sea and pours into your room–but it’s not enough to wrest you from your sleep just yet.
>You dream of your childhood, a home of warm hearths and among nine siblings.
>You dream of your days at St. August’s Conservatory.
>You dream of your master in a scandalous pose and outfit.
>You dream of that cool chicken with the cigarette from the first picture.
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