“Between you and me—don’t go telling anyone else.”

Arman leaned wearily against a large tree. Evelia’s rejection had clearly hit him hard.

“I got rejected.”

Rubbing his temples, he looked utterly troubled.

“I was even trying to apologize when she turned me down—ugh, so frustrating! Why? Tell me, wasn’t I sincere enough? I—I only bought ketchup because I knew she liked it! She *must* like it, right?”

Venting about yesterday’s ordeal, Arman’s voice rose with growing agitation until he suddenly stood and wrapped his arms around the horse’s neck.

“What exactly did I do wrong? Just give me a straight answer—”

Of course, no reply came.

Because the one facing him wasn’t human—but a white warhorse.

“Luna… why? *Why?*”

This mare was Luna, Arman’s most beloved steed. She’d followed him through countless battles, her coat etched with scars big and small. Now aged, she could no longer charge into war. So Arman built her a vast pasture—freedom to roam whenever her heart desired.

Mostly, though, she was his listener. Arman wasn’t some flawless saint; he had grievances he couldn’t voice to anyone. Like *this*: rejected after offering ketchup. Too embarrassing for human ears. Only Luna heard it all.

“Sigh… You’re both females… can’t you give me a hint?”

Arman gently stroked Luna’s forehead. He knew she couldn’t answer—but he poured out the words anyway. Most were really for himself.

“Luna, you’ll turn twenty this half-year. I’ll hit thirty soon too. Time flies, huh?”

At twenty-six, Arman felt it keenly. One blink, and Luna—the once-majestic warhorse—was retired, resting quietly in the stable.

He’d redeemed her years ago from a merchant. One glance told him: rare gem. The merchant saw Arman’s instant longing and jacked up the price. Back then, Arman was just a lowly knight. But Kale—newly teamed with him—used his merchant-born haggling skills. They secured Luna at a fair price (Kale covered most). That day forged a lifelong friendship. Kale still jokes his “investment” was perfect.

“Sigh… Luna, if only you could talk. Turn into a horse girl and advise me. Aside from the old butler, you know my secrets best.”

Arman hugged her affectionately. This steadfast old friend had always stood gently by his side.

“Sir Arman?”

Evelia’s voice cut through the quiet. Arman turned; Luna followed his gaze. Together, man and mare watched her approach, basket in hand—clearly bringing lunch.

Since yesterday, Arman had felt awkward around her. Yet Evelia acted exactly as before, leaving him utterly confused.

“I’ve brought your lunch. Will you eat here?”

Most girls would shy from a horse. Not Evelia. She knew riding well—and with one glance, recognized this aged mare as exceptional.

“Ah, Eve—meet Luna.”

Seeing Evelia’s fixed gaze, Arman swelled with pride. He introduced Luna to everyone. Who wouldn’t boast of a undefeated warhorse now enjoying peaceful retirement?

*Luna’s life… that’s the life I want.* Youth spent adventuring freely. Old age in quiet grace. Arman hoped for the same peace someday—even if brief.

“Luna, this is Eve—Evelia. The one I mentioned.”

He gently nudged Luna’s side. The gesture felt like a parent whispering, *“This is the girl I told you about.”*

“Hello. I am Evelia Crozier.”

Though knowing Luna couldn’t speak, Evelia bowed respectfully. Luna dipped her head—a graceful reply.

“What a magnificent horse, Sir Arman.”

“Right? *Right?*” Arman lit up like a child finding common ground. “Luna’s a once-in-a-century steed. Never lost a single battle beside me.”

“May I pet her?”

Sunlight glinted off Luna’s coat. Evelia felt a quiet longing. *Living so long in shadow… sometimes you crave something pure and white.*

“Is it okay, Luna?”

Their bond wasn’t master and servant—it was friendship. Arman always let *her* decide.

Luna neither refused nor leaned in. She simply watched Evelia’s slightly raised hand… then granted her the courtesy of a gentle stroke.

Evelia then mimicked Arman’s earlier embrace. Arman’s mind flashed to her *princess carry*—*Wait, is she gonna shoulder-throw Luna?!*

“I’ll fetch Luna some feed. You two keep each other company.”

Reassured by Luna’s calm, Arman left for the stable. Evelia leaned quietly against the mare, patting her side.

*He confides in her so openly…* She sighed inwardly.

“If only I could become a horse too…”

Luna flicked her tail.

*If she could speak, she’d mutter:*

“—One wants me to be a horse girl. The other wants to *be* the horse. What is *wrong* with these two?”