Damian Wayne sat under the large oak tree in the royal gardens, fuming. His father, the king, had made him tag along when the royal envoy was visiting the neighbouring kingdom of Star.

That wasn't the reason for his anger, but the fact that he was made to stay out of the room where the important meetings were being held, deemed as too young, while his elder brothers all happily got to sit in.

Star and Gotham's rivalry was nothing short of legendary, and that is the reason his father had given for him to stay away, that witnessing open hostility in the meeting room at such a young age would be damaging to Damian. He had barely resisted the urge to scoff at the reasoning.

The rhythmic tapping of a shovel nearby was adding to his mounting frustration and anger.

He couldn't take it anymore and marched towards the sound, that led him to a stable.

A stablehand was there, working away at stacking hay, wearing clothes smudged with dirt and grime, who looked to be the same age as him.

He glared, nonetheless. "Would it kill you to use that shovel lightly?"