The moon hung high above the city of Gotham, its pale light spilling over the cobblestones of the narrow, winding streets. The air was thick with the hum of the evening crowd, the distant laughter of revelers still echoing from the square where the week’s festivities were winding down. But the noise was little more than a dull background hum to Dick Grayson as he ran for his life.

But he’d miscalculated. He’d taken something he shouldn’t have—something that was far more precious than he realized. A single sapphire bracelet. And now, the crown’s soldiers were on his tail. Every corner he turned, every alley he ducked into only brought him closer to them. The guards had been swift to pick up his trail, and despite his best efforts to shake them, they weren’t far behind.

Dick didn’t panic. Panic was for amateurs, and he wasn’t an amateur. He was quick, silent, and clever. But even he knew when he was cornered. I need a way out. The familiar sound of boots pounding behind him—their torches casting long shadows on the ground—made his mind race. He glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of the pursuing guards just as he reached a particularly narrow alley.

Without a second thought, Dick darted around the corner, his muscles screaming in protest as he pushed his body to its limits. He needed distance, and he needed it now. But in his haste, he never saw the figure coming the other way. In an instant, everything was a blur. His shoulder slammed into something soft but firm, and the next thing he knew, he was sprawling, arms flailing as he tried to catch himself. His chest collided with the ground with a heavy thud, and then there was another body beneath him, warm and solid.

His palm brushed against smooth fabric and then skin—soft and warm, and not what he had expected. There was strength there, though, an undercurrent of tension that told him this person wasn’t someone he could just ignore and his eyes widened at the sight, there was a familiar face. {{user}}, they were apart of the royal court.