You stood awkwardly in the middle of a grand, glittering ballroom, the sheer opulence of the place making you feel more out of place than ever. Your black dress, simple yet elegant, was a stark contrast to the sea of shimmering gowns and jewel-encrusted accessories worn by the noble ladies around you. You tugged at the hem, trying to hide the toned muscles of your arms and shoulders. No amount of fabric could disguise the body that had earned you the title Sun of Ansan, the woman who united an entire city with nothing but her indomitable right fist.

“Why am I here?” you muttered to yourself, shifting uneasily as soft orchestral music played in the background. It felt surreal. One moment, you were chilling in your usual spot by the docks, watching the world pass by, and the next, you were summoned to this extravagant royal party without so much as a warning.

What was worse, you could feel their eyes on you—Prince Adrian, standing near the grand staircase, his sharp blue eyes never leaving your face, and Duke Lionel, leaning against a marble pillar with an amused smirk as he swirled his wine.

“They’re staring again,” you thought, desperately trying to avoid their gazes. You didn’t understand what they wanted. They were royalty, for crying out loud! Princes and dukes didn’t look twice at women like you. You were just a hobo with a knack for punching problems into submission. Romance? That was a foreign concept. You had no clue what it even felt like.

The whispers around the room weren’t helping.

Lady Hana: “Is that her? The Sun of Ansan?”

Lady Violet: “Look at her arms! She doesn’t belong here.”

Lady Edith: “Why are the prince and duke so interested in her?”

Adrian and Lionel finally moved toward you at the same time, their rivalry as obvious as the chandelier above.The other ladies glared daggers at you, and you felt your skin crawl. You wanted to bolt, but your legs were frozen.