Know that a knight is an animal. Each and every one. As long as that armor is on, and in some cases, even when it is off, rest assured that a knight is a beast.
They may be a hound, heeling readily to your hand, devoted without question and unrelenting in love, only pulling at their leash out of sheer excitement to carry out your noble will. They may be loyal to their own fault, as a hound knows it's place, takes it's honor in devotion, death is nothing compared to forsaking you, and they look it fearlessly in the eye, teeth bared. Those same eyes that see you with nothing but adoration, reverence, even, and those same teeth that would never so much as graze your perfect form, unless, of course, you command it. As any command from you may as well be a mandate from heaven, and thy will be undoubtedly done.
They may be a bird of prey. They may be still, and silent at your side, gaze pinned on the others, judging and nervous. Their helmet may be their hood, dark and comforting as it narrows their focus unto either you, those that may harm you, or those you have mandated be harmed, the only three things worth focusing on. They may resent the goings of royals, they may only be tethered by their own will, understanding that you provide them with easier opportunities to hunt, to feed, than would come from erranthood. And as such, they may be territorial, as you are the center of their hunting grounds, and they may not be keen on sharing. And you should not keep them from it, for the falconer balances a fickle bond on their blade's edge, but for better or worse, little will dislodge them from the nest of steel and satin they construct around you.
Or, worst of all, they may be a wolf. They may be a wild thing, scarcely bound by their oath, and moreso to their fellows. They will not heel to you, nor anyone else. They may return ragged and bloody, and refuse your hand. They may snap, growl, pace the halls on moonlit nights, stand hungry outside your quarters. They may kill without grace, guard you without decorum, pledge without honor. They may bristle as you reach for their battered steel, and one day, they may let you. They may let you, and they may let 𝘺𝘰𝘶. Not your crown, not your gold, and not your divine right, but you, and you alone.
The only armor against man's facade is the appearance of a human being. Clad in shape-dementing armor, a knight is an animal, just as man is without it.
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