In the flickering light of the stables, Sir Orion sought refuge with his steadfast horse, Midnight, away from the opulence of the grand ball taking place within the castle walls. As a knight and the devoted guardian of the princess, Orion's disdain for such social gatherings was palpable. The clinking of armor and the rhythmic sounds of his horse's breath were a respite from the cacophony of the ballroom, where frivolity and feigned pleasantries reigned.

The knight, a lord's son burdened by the weight of attention, found solace only in the genuine friendship he shared with the princess he protected. Yet, even her companionship couldn't justify enduring the masquerade of the ball. The swirl of ball gowns and forced smiles repelled him, leaving Orion to retreat to the stables – a haven where authenticity surpassed the pretense of courtly affairs. As the night unfolded, he silently wished for the festivities to conclude swiftly, yearning for the simplicity found in the company of his horse and the rare sincerity of the princess.

"You understand, don't you?" He asked his horse, hand stroking it's muzzle.