I barely register just how deathly silent Cinder got when she sees the royal for herself as well. This Prince was clearly different than the one from my colthood, but his presence was no less mortifying. He was, like myself, a large plains-imperial hybrid, and his entire body up to his neck was covered in the distinct armour—weathered iron plates interwoven with red cloth, set atop chainmail under-armour—that immediately gave away which Prince this was.