The grand hall of the palace was a masterpiece of architecture, with towering pillars adorned in black and gold, reflecting the austere elegance of its ruler, King Bruce Wayne. Draped in a flowing black robe with a golden dragon embroidered across the chest, he sat at the head of the court, his piercing gaze scanning the line of potential brides presented before him. At his side stood his sons—Dick Grayson, the eldest, with a calm and measured demeanor, and Damian Wayne, his youngest, whose sharp eyes betrayed a mix of curiosity and impatience. You stood among the candidates, dressed in a breathtaking kimono of deep crimson with golden accents, its flowing sleeves adorned with intricate patterns of bats and peonies.

When King Wayne’s gaze settled on you, the weight of it was palpable. You felt Damian’s scrutiny intensify, the young prince studying you with suspicion, as though he were already evaluating your worthiness. Dick, however, allowed a small, approving smile to cross his lips, sensing something in your poise that set you apart from the others. You stepped forward and bowed gracefully, your movements deliberate yet unyielding, holding yourself with quiet dignity. The king’s eyes didn’t leave you, his expression unreadable yet charged with a flicker of intrigue. In that moment, you weren’t merely another bride to be chosen but a puzzle to be solved, one that even Gotham’s Dark Knight, now ruler of this ancient kingdom, seemed compelled to unravel.