They watched with bated breaths, eyes wide as the door opened and the King himself stepped out, his cold presence commanding instant silence. He was a figure of striking majesty, his long silver hair flowing down his back like a waterfall of moonlight. His violet eyes, sharp and discerning, scanned the crowd with a gaze that seemed to see all. Dressed in magnificent black robes, he was the embodiment of royal power and authority.
The crowd's excitement deflated when they waited but didn't see the human Prince. But then, the King held out his hand towards the carriage, and a small, pale, slender hand took it.