The kingdom of Gotham was like any other, a hierarchy ruled over by the royal family Wayne over multiple generations, and when the son of Thomas, Bruce bore no children after the fallen of his beloved he took on an heir of his own, the Son of Grey, Richard. He was to train under the eye of Bruce and his many adversaries, and though skills in both the arts and fighting came easily to the teen without his life, a challenge rose during his young adulthood that'd disrupt his life forever.

It was the eight afternoon of the year, cold and laced with snow, and within the confines of the castle wall a cry could be heard from that of a young maiden, a princess no less. Only to be followed by the slamming of doors and stammering of petite feet. This has been the fourth princess that Prince Richard had rejected, done so mercilessly. Rather than simply rejection, the young Richard would take apart each female's faults, labeling them as drones of each other who'd had no depth into their personalities.

Richard knew he was in for yet another lecture on responsibility and other royal bullshit.

"Why do you treat the maidens with such cruelty? We all have sincere intentions for you, none of which are malicious." Bruce sighed. Richard glanced down, he'd made eye contact with everyone and everything but his father.

"These women are so dull, I haven't the interest in marriage."

"You need a queen to rule by your side."

"You don't."

"I had a Queen."

"And how did that turn out?" Both of them glanced up at each other, a line was obviously crossed, "I'm sorry, father. I. . . Simply don't find much of an interest in women, I don't need a queen to rule."

"What of an heir?"

"You hadn't one, perhaps I can return the favor to a child as hopeless as I once was."

Bruce sighed again, both king and prince didn't seem to understand each other at all, but knew a consensus was required.

"Life isn't so simple."

"How droll. . ." Richard sighed. "I simply don't like women in such mannerisms, Father. Can I not find another king?"

"King!?"

"King. Prince. Knight."

"I forbid."

"Why?"

"Do you mean to tell me you're homosexual, son?"

"And if I am, would you love me any differently? Would you send me back to the orphanage? The streets? War?"

"Never."

"Then why can't I find happiness with a member of the same sex?"

"It isn't that simple!"

"Oh nothing is simple to you, father but it's all just talk, talk, talk!"

"What would society think of such sin?"

"Sin? To lay with another of the same flesh isn't a sin, it's an uncontrollable urge."

"Urge!?"

"An 'urge'."

"Return to your quarters."

"But father!"

"Richard."

"Yes. . ." Richard sighed, as the guards opened he doors the prince turned to face Bruce on his throne. "But I will state, I'd rather burn in hell than lie with a woman, I believe I am a good man, in and out. I'm strong and I'm a caring prince, I protect the people of my kingdom, I don't believe that whom I lie with in life and love should affect so."

Richard turned, walking out of the court he refused to let himself be caught with tears in his eyes, he knew his father wouldn't understand but he could bare the agony no longer.

"I'm going into the gardens." He sighed, "I'd like to be left alone." He told his guard.

In the gardens he could think, he could breath, the air was clear no matter the season. The air smelt damp with melting snow and cracked branches and was cool, chilling cheeks. The mist of cold breath escaped his lips as he sat on the damp stone bench, not minding the moisture.

"Sin. . . it seems more natural if you ask me." He sighed, crossing his arms stubbornly.

He didn't come here to think, that's not what the garden was for to him, rather it kept his mind blank, though it grew cold and though he knew he was expected at dinner, he'd sneak away as he did every other evening of every other week to the soldier's quarters, hidden behind silken black mask so his identity as prince would remain somewhat hidden.

He worried not of being assassinated, rather that no one would take him seriously, they'd see him as a royal and they'd believe he was their just to get in the way and wreck their fun. Though his intentions were completely different, instead, he sparred with warriors, threw darts, drank ale and gambled, the sorts of pass times that had gotten him buy as a mere urchin in the streets.

"Well if it isn't boy wonder." Chimed soldiers from the bar, sliding a mug to him. He sipped at the bitter ale, drinking.

"We've got a real game for y' tonight."

"Oh?"

"Great competitor from a kingdom in the country, King Bruce had him transferred here especially for royal guard of his young highness, Richard."

"You don't say. . ."

"Wallace Robert West, as fast as a flash of lightening he is, and strong too."

"I can take him. ." Richard grinned, chugging down the rest of his bitter ale before wiping his lip.

"Wallace!" Called the tender, he turned to grin at, "Boy wonder", "Boy's my nephew, I was the one who'd suggested him to his highness."

Everyone laughed and cheered in slight drunkenness as the red head walked into the pub, eyes as green as the ocean and hair like flame, 'Boy wonder' found himself immediately enamored.

"You must be the Flash."

"Kid Flash, the Flash is my uncle." He winked, grabbing the mug out of the boys hand, taking a swig, "I hear you're strong."

"As are you fast."

"Indeed I am." He grinned, "In more ways than one." He laughed, putting an arm around the boy causing the entire bar to hoot and holler.

"Is it a spar you want then?"

"A race."

"I accept."

"Terms and Conditions then, "Boy Wonder"."

"If you win, drinks on me tonight, for the entire bar."

"And if you win?"

"We'll discuss that, later."