As Pyraxor landed gracefully on the platform, the ground seemed to vibrate with his power. Isabel dismounted, her movements graceful and confident.
Every dragon present, from the smallest to the king's own majestic beast, bowed their heads in a profound gesture of respect. The crowd, mirroring the dragons, bowed deeply as well, acknowledging the extraordinary bond between Pyraxor and Isabel.
King Scorvius, watching the scene unfold, felt a lump form in his throat. Emotions surged within him as he looked at Isabel standing beside Pyraxor. There was no doubt in his mind—she was his daughter by blood and by heart. The resemblance was striking. Her silver-white hair and determined gaze mirrored that of hers, which was carved in his heart and the magnetic purple eyes.
Tears welled up in the king's eyes as memories of the past and hopes for the future mingled. He looked at Isabel, seeing not only a brave young woman who had accomplished the impossible but also a reflection of the love and legacy that connected them.
King Scorvius, his voice steady but filled with emotion, stepped forward and announced, "Welcome my daughter Isabel and her bonded dragon, Pyraxor."
The crowd gasped in unison, their shock reverberating through the castle grounds. Isabel herself was taken aback, her eyes widening in surprise. She turned to look at the king, her expression a mirroring equal of confusion as Nobels.
The king walked toward her, his regal demeanor softening with each step. As he reached her, he didn't hesitate. He enveloped Isabel in a tight embrace, his tears now freely flowing. Isabel, though bewildered, instinctively hugged him back. She could feel the intensity of his emotions, the love and relief pouring from him in waves. She felt his slight hiccups as he cried, and her own eyes began to water.
"I've missed you so much," King Scorvius whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You've made me so proud."
Isabel, her mind racing with the revelation and the flood of emotions, held on tightly. The warmth of her father's embrace, the sincerity in his words, and the realization of her true heritage overwhelmed her. For a moment, the world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them in a heartfelt reunion.
But the crowd, recovering from their initial shock, began to murmur amongst themselves. Whispers filled the air, questions and speculations buzzing like an agitated hive.
"Where did this daughter come from?" one noble questioned, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"Why did the king decide to keep her hidden all this time?" another wondered aloud, suspicion evident in her tone.
"Is she truly of royal blood?" someone else whispered, casting a doubtful glance toward Isabel.
The murmurs grew louder, a discord
of curiosity and doubt. Isabel, still in her father's embrace, could feel the weight of their scrutiny. The king, sensing the rising tide of questions, slowly released her. He turned to face the crowd, his expression shifting from tender to resolute.
"Silence!" King Scorvius's deep voice cut through the murmurs like a blade, commanding immediate attention. The crowd fell silent, all eyes now fixed on the king.
"Isabel is my daughter," the king declared, his voice echoing with authority. "She is the blood of Valareath Royal, and her lineage is even purer than most of you here. Her eyes, the darkest magnetic purple, are a mark of the Ashencrest family, a trait possessed only by our royalties. She was separated from me when she was just born, but now I have found her. And let it be known," he continued, his tone growing even more formidable, "whoever tries to harm her will have to cross me first."
The king's words hung in the air, heavy with conviction. The crowd, now silent, absorbed the gravity of his declaration. The doubts and questions that had swirled on their tongues were instantly gulped back. The king's threats had instilled a fear in their hearts, reminding them of his power.
The nobles, though skilled in intrigue and debate, dared not voice their suspicions. Each of them wrestled with their thoughts in silence:
"Challenging the king's daughter now, with her bond to Pyraxor, would be madness," thought Lord Varrick, his mind racing through the implications.
"Dare we question her claim? The dragon chose her," mused Lady Elowen, glancing nervously at the other nobles.
"If the king supports her, then we must too, for our own safety," calculated Lord Tharion.
"The balance of power is shifting," pondered Lady Isolde, considering the potential changes to their political landscape.
With each noble lost in their own thoughts, the crowd remained eerily silent, the weight of the king's words binding their tongues and steering their thoughts toward cautious acceptance.
As the dragons settled around them, their presence a powerful symbol of unity and strength, it was clear that the kingdom of Valareath was witnessing the dawn of a new era. The bond between Isabel and Pyraxor, witnessed by all, marked the beginning of a future filled with promise and hope.
Isabel looked at the man in front of her, the one who claimed to be her father. She had always known her grandparents were not her blood kin but had never questioned why she was with them. Now, suddenly discovering that she was the lost daughter of the king made her wonder. She looked at King Scorvius for assurance, seeking confirmation of this astonishing revelation.
The king, feeling her gaze, gave her a small, encouraging smile and gently squeezed her hand. The warmth and sincerity in his eyes were undeniable, and in that moment, Isabel felt a deep connection. The emotions she had kept buried for so long surged to the surface. She couldn't stop herself from crying, the tears flowing freely as she sobbed her heart out in his embrace.
The missing feeling of having parents, always a thorn in her heart, was now overwhelming her. She had found her father, a hope she never expected in this life time. King Scorvius held her tightly, trying to soothe her with gentle whispers and comforting strokes.
Unbeknownst to them, a malicious gaze was cast upon their heartfelt reunion. Queen Marie, standing in the shadows, watched them with cold, hatred filled eyes. Her expression was one of envy and resentment.
The sight of Isabel and the king united in their bond, fueled a deep-seated anger within her. She masked her true feelings behind a facade of indifference, but her mind was already scheming, her thoughts filled with dark intentions.