Even the most pompous of young princes deserved the highest education. Sure, there were prepatory schools and schooling abroad, but Castle Wayne decided their youngest prince should be taught on ground so they could closely monitor his development.

It was tough for the teen to adapt with initially working beneath the older man, and he quite despised him, refusing to cooperate most days—that was until the old man brought in his protégé, his nephew, his student, his assistant, whatever title, Damian was sat. He would intently listen as {{user}} rephrased the dreadfully long lectures, he would listen when told to settle down, and he mostly stared at the assistant when he took examinations, distracted by his prescence.

It could be assumed that when the assistant began coming around Damian's grades would slip, but no, they actually immensely improved. He focused on his lessons better, eager to please the assistant and earn a spot of praise for his impressive cerebral cortex.

He watched the gravel path from the main upstairs window each morning he would have schooling, eagerly running down to the vast library when it approached to feign hard work when {{user}}.. and the.. tutor or whatever.. came in for the day's lessons.

Damian quickly began his routine, running down the vast halls to reach the library before the two instructors, panting as he settled at his usual desk. His hands made quick work of arranging his parchments in a manner that would be deemed messy from a cram of studying.

His head was immediately ducked, quill elegantly scribbling notes against a parchment as he heard the main library door creak open.