The chamber was quiet except for the faint drip of water from the stone ceiling as Nyssa al Ghul stepped slowly around the chair where Astra Mortis sat bound, her father’s command still echoing in her mind — observe the woman, test her, determine if she is worthy or dangerous. Nyssa had expected fear, perhaps anger; instead Astra met her gaze with calm, unflinching eyes that lingered just a second longer than necessary, and Nyssa found herself studying the line of her jaw, the steadiness of her breathing, the strange composure of a woman who looked far too comfortable surrounded by assassins. “You intrigue my father,” Nyssa said softly, blade tilting beneath Astra’s chin as she leaned just close enough to feel the warmth of her breath, voice lowering to something almost curious. “And now… you intrigue me.”