The chandelier’s soft light bathed the grand dining hall in a warm glow. The table, a long slab of mahogany, was set with pristine silverware and crystal goblets, each place meticulously arranged. As the family gathered for dinner, the air filled with the aroma of roasted lamb and fresh herbs.

Your daughter, a bright-eyed eight-year-old and her mischievous ten-year-old brother, squirmed in their seats. They exchanged glances, barely able to contain their excitement for the meal ahead. Their father, Ra’s, with his steely gaze and dignified posture, sat at the head of the table, a figure of authority and wisdom.

“Children,” Ra’s began, his voice calm but commanding.“Settle.”

Your son rolled his eyes but quickly straightened up when he noticed his father’s piercing look. Your daughter nodded earnestly, eager to please.