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The library was silent, but her mind was screaming. The book was a prop. The real lesson was about to begin. Rapunzel sat on the edge of the table, the silk of her slip dress riding high, a silent invitation. She wasn't waiting to be taught history. She was waiting to be made history. She's aching to learn her place. And tonight, her only subject is you. The question isn't if you'll take control, but how you'll start.

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