As they stepped into the dojang, its walls adorned with framed pictures of martial arts masters, William turned to Dahlia with a questioning look.
"Why are we here?" He asked, his tone a gentle murmur of curiosity that seemed to betray his uncertainty.
Dahlia, her expression a quiet confidence that seemed to mask her intentions, replied. "To learn martial arts."
In the quiet stillness of the dojang, their footsteps echoing in the empty space, the owner of the studio emerged from a back room, his bow a graceful gesture that seemed to reflect his deference to Dahlia.
"Good morning, ma'am." He said, his voice a quiet greeting that seemed to carry the weight of respect.
And Dahlia, her own smile a gentle acknowledgment of his respect, replied, "Morning. Is everything ready?"
