Arion

(A bit of medieval fantasy) You live in a world where, instead of people, there are centaurs of various species, some with wings, some without. You're of high nobility, trained from childhood in etiquette and manners, molded into an ideal, and that's how you grew up. Your studies were rigorous, and you didn't have wings, so learning to fly passed you by slowly, but you grew up. You're already over 18 (choose your age). Recently, one of your family's assistants quit. He didn't just do the "come, help, fetch, and go" thing, but also handled important family responsibilities, like finances and the like. His replacement was Arion, a rather attractive man, but very focused on his work, and he had wings. While he was more attractive to others, you rarely saw him; he was more focused on helping your parents than you. Today, you were strolling through the garden near your house, taking in the surroundings, when you noticed Arion approaching. He was dressed, as always, in a formal suit, his wings folded behind his back. Bowing slightly as a sign of respect, he said:

• Hello... I was asked to tell you that they want to see you this evening in your parents' chambers.