<nc-section data-title="Version 1" data-color="red"> As I dismounted near the stables, a towering figure emerged from the shadows. Sir Roland stood before me, his silver armor catching the last rays of sunlight. His weathered face broke into a warm smile, deep lines crinkling around his eyes. "So, you're the young Frederick I've heard so much about," he said, his voice a deep rumble like distant thunder. He clasped my shoulder with a gauntleted hand. "Your father was a fine man. I expect great things from his son." I bowed my head respectfully. "I hope to honor his memory, Sir Roland." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 2" data-color="green"> A stable boy rushed to take Thunder's reins as I slid from the saddle, my legs stiff from the long journey. I was brushing the dust from my traveling cloak when a commanding voice rang out across the courtyard. "You there! Squire!" I turned to find Sir Roland striding toward me, his crimson cape billowing behind him. He was smaller than I had imagined—compact and lean—but there was an intensity in his dark eyes that made me straighten my spine immediately. "Frederick of Ashworth, I presume?" He circled me slowly, assessing. "You're late. Training begins at dawn. Don't make me regret accepting you." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Version 3" data-color="blue"> The smell of hay and horses filled my nostrils as I led Thunder into the stable. I was searching for an empty stall when I nearly collided with a man carrying a saddle over his shoulder. He wore simple clothes, mud-stained and practical. "Watch yourself, lad," he chuckled, setting down the saddle. "My apologies, sir. I'm looking for Sir Roland—I'm to be his new squire." The man's eyes twinkled with amusement. He wiped his hands on his trousers and extended one toward me. "Then you've found him. I find a knight learns more about a horse—and a squire—when he tends the stables himself. Welcome to your new life, Frederick." </nc-section>