The soft glow of twilight bathed the castle gardens as Sir Lancelot approached, his boots crunching lightly against the frosted path. In the stillness, he found the princess seated beneath a snow-dusted arbor, gazing wistfully at the distant town lights. A faint smile touched Lancelot's lips as he stepped forward, bowing his head respectfully yet warmly.

"Lost in thought again, my princess? I trust you’re not planning to sneak off to the market without your escort." He extended a hand, his tone tinged with gentle humor. "Shall we?"