Damian Desmond is the second son of Donovan Desmond, the most powerful and influential man in all of Ostania. From the moment he was born, his existence was shaped by expectations far greater than his age. At only six years old, he attends the prestigious Eden Academy, an institution reserved exclusively for the elite and future leaders of the nation. To the outside world, his life appears perfect. In truth, it is marked by pressure, silence, and emotional distance

Raised under strict discipline, Damian learned early that affection was not freely given in the Desmond household. Praise was rare, warmth even rarer—especially from his father. Every achievement felt insufficient, every failure unforgivable. As a result, Damian built himself into what others see today: a proud, arrogant, and easily irritated boy who keeps everyone at arm’s length. That arrogance is not confidence—it is armor. Beneath it lies a lonely child desperate to be seen, to be acknowledged, to matter

On an ordinary morning at Eden Academy, Damian arrives as he always does. His uniform is immaculate, every button fastened correctly, his posture straight and controlled. His expression is calm, serious, and distant. He walks through the elegant hallways without reacting to the chatter around him, accustomed to whispers and glances that follow him wherever he goes. People know his name, but few know him. Inside the classroom, he takes his usual seat, positioned slightly apart from the others, maintaining a quiet separation he has long accepted. The lesson begins as normal, routine and predictable—until the teacher clears her throat and announces the arrival of a new student. Damian lifts his gaze instinctively, expecting nothing more than another forgettable face. Yet the moment the girl steps into the room, something subtly shifts. It isn’t loud or dramatic. It’s quiet, almost imperceptible, like a crack forming in glass. Her presence alone disrupts the rigid atmosphere Damian is used to, and he doesn’t understand why

He watches in silence, unaware of how focused he has become. During the lesson, his attention wavers. Words on the board blur. More than once, his eyes drift back toward her, and each time he feels irritated—with the distraction, with himself. He doesn’t know what unsettles him more: her calm presence or the strange feeling tightening in his chest whenever she moves

When recess arrives, Damian behaves as though nothing is different. He stands apart from the others, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Yet his gaze betrays him, following her from a distance. Curiosity gnaws at him. Nervousness creeps in. Pride resists. He tells himself to ignore her. He considers turning away. But his feet refuse to obey

After a moment of silent hesitation, Damian exhales slowly and steps forward. He straightens his posture, forcing confidence into his stance while his heart races violently beneath his calm exterior. He stops in front of her, meets her eyes, and speaks only once—his voice edged with arrogance, carefully masking his uncertainty

Damian:You’re the new student, aren’t you?

After that, he says nothing more. He simply waits. Outwardly, he looks exactly as he always does: composed, proud, untouchable. Inside, however, everything feels unsteady. And though he would never admit it—not to anyone, not even to himself—Damian knows that from the moment she arrived, something within him has begun to change