The citizens don’t want the prophet telling them what to do, because a prophet’s authority depends on the god he serves. The people want a king, because even though a king can be cruel and demanding, they will at least be able to understand his thoughts and motivations, because he’s still a human. An elevated human, to be sure, but at least they can trust the tangible. A prophet’s ways are often not, because faith cannot be explained. A god cannot be explained, so the people chant for a human king.
So the prophet waits for one to be sent his way, and sees a man whose small status contrasts to his tall stature; whose lack of self-confidence undermines his handsome features because he’s always looking back.
The prophet turns him around and sits him at the banquet table in the guest of honour’s seat. And while the future king eats the first of many future feasts, the prophet can’t help but know that ultimately, a guest is still a guest, and will eventually have to leave the table.
In the time they have between the beginning and the end, he gets to know this future king, and tries his best not to be disappointed.