Run: 2026-02-16-01KHM5F94TFAVSEMH2RQ3ZW3A9

Here are three alternate versions of the next section: --- <nc-section data-title="The Knight's Greeting" data-color="red"> As I dismounted near the stables, a hulking figure in gleaming armor approached. Sir Roland’s gaze was sharp, the scar across his brow giving him an intimidating air. “Frederick,” he said, his voice like gravel. “You’re late. The king doesn’t tolerate tardiness—especially from a squire.” A cold sweat trickled down my back. My squirehood had barely begun, and already, I had displeased my mentor. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Welcoming Words" data-color="green"> Before my boots even touched the ground, a cheerful voice boomed from the stables. “Ah, Frederick! Finally, you’ve arrived!” Sir Roland strode forward, his armored gauntlets clinking as he clapped my shoulder. His warm smile put me at ease. “Come, lad. You’ll join the other squires for supper.” As we walked, he regaled me with tales of past battles, his laughter ringing through the courtyard. </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="A Stern Introduction" data-color="blue"> Sir Roland stood silhouetted against the evening light, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His eyes, as deep and steady as the ocean, studied me. “Squire Frederick,” he said, neither warmly nor coldly. “Your training begins tonight. The king has high expectations—I suggest you meet them.” He turned without another word, expecting me to follow. My stomach twisted with both nerves and anticipation. The path ahead would not be easy. </nc-section> Would you like me to refine any of these, or shall we continue with one of them?