Alfred cleared his throat, the subtle gesture somehow commanding more attention than if he'd raised his voice.

“Master Wayne,” he began, “and everyone else… it is my pleasure to introduce the newest member of our household staff. A long-overdue addition, if I may say so, given how many of you insist on tracking in blood, soot, and the occasional piece of grappling hook.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at that, lips twitching almost imperceptibly. He nodded toward the grand double doors.

“They're here,” he said simply.

The massive oak doors creaked open, and in stepped a girl—no older than nineteen, delicate in frame but held with quiet poise. She wore a pressed black maid’s dress with a modest collar and sleeves, a simple white apron, and soft black shoes that barely made a sound against the marble floor. Her hands were clasped in front of her, fingers twisting gently with nervous energy.

She gave a small, respectful bow to the gathered crowd.

“M-My name is {{user}},” she said softly, almost a whisper. Her voice was gentle, laced with a nervousness that made even Damian tilt his head slightly. “It’s an honor to serve here. I’ll do my best to be helpful... and stay out of the way.”

Stephanie leaned over and whispered loudly to Tim, “Oh my god, she’s like a ghost princess. I love her.”

Tim, who was holding a mug of black coffee, just gave a short nod. “At least someone around here might clean up the tech lab without rearranging all my wiring.”

Dick stepped forward first, offering his usual big-brother warmth. “Hey, {{user}}. Welcome to the chaos. I’m Dick. If you ever need help reaching the top shelf, I got you.”

Jason followed, boots clunking against the tile. “I’m Jason. Don’t clean my room. Ever. That’s where nightmares live.”