Sweet Waters Throne

Chapter 35: Chapter 3

Days in Prophis were getting slower on princess Thelma’s side especially after she shared her secret with Katarina and she wasn’t sure if she did the right thing or she just hurt herself in the process. Hence she spent most of her days inside her chambers thinking on what to do.

However, Katarina being petty and mischief just like always visited her sister in law insider her chambers. Some days she brought in berries, grapes, folded cakes and anything resembling gift she could find. They would talk for hours about Castellan’s behavior and the possibility that he could have murdered King Taelin.

When Thelma asked what would they do now, Katarina seemed to lack any motivation or solution. But neither did Thelma, they both had no evidence to put Prince Castellan on the stand and answer for his endeavors.

One particular afternoon, there was a meeting amongst the septas. This was a meeting to appoint a new High Septon since Father Henry was no more. And by the evening, Father Jakharyes was appointed as the High Septon.

What a day! Just exactly what Prince Castellan wanted, a Septon he can control early on before he grew horns and resist his orders.

Hence Father Jakharyes accepted the invitation to the king’s council chambers, he had no idea that he was walking inside the Lion’s mouth ready to be chewed up.

“Evenings Father...” He found Prince Castellan standing against the window looking down. This was the same place he slit his father’s throat.

.....

The heavy black fabric nearly made him invisible in the darkness. The winter had exceeded the coldness and no matter how much people covered themselves with heavy jackets and fabrics, still they couldn’t beat out the cold.

Father Jakharyes curtised before Prince Castellan “My prince...” he said softly.

“Father...” Castellan turned back with a smile on his lips. “I was just watching the sun setting, it’s the most relaxing thing to do”

“I’m sure it is my prince”

Prince Castellan walked to the High Septon and they looked at each other. Father Jakharyes was like a skeleton without flesh, he was perhaps the thinnest man in Prophis and he looked weak and sick. He wore a brown robe as per the uniform of most septas, without any heavy fabric to protect himself from the cold.

The robe was slipping out of his body and he looked like he was hanging from the wall. His bones could be seen vividly and it’s possible if he took out that robe, his lungs can be counted one by one. He had a thick grab of white hairs which fell down effortlessly behind his back, not because he was old that his hairs turned white, NO. It’s because Jakharyes was not a Prophisian.

The origin of Father Jakharyes was still a mystery to be unveiled. No one knew where he came from, or how he found himself in Prophis or amongst the septas of the high table.

Prince Castellan was also curious to know Father Jakharyes’s origin. It’s what he’s been asking himself ever since he pointed him to be the High Septon.

“Shall we sit father?” Prince Castellan suggested and pulled a chair for him. Father Jakharyes sat down but he seemed nervous, just exactly what Prince Castellan was looking for – a frightening septa. The prince took his seat too and they locked eyes.

“I was meaning to ask Father Jakharyes, aren’t you cold?”

“No I am not my prince. We have taken oaths to be covered in our gods hotness as they breathe fire which keeps us warm”

“Hmm...” That’s what the prince said.

That’s because to Prince Castellan all that talk about gods, the old ones and the new sounded like a bunch of stuff people say to keep them relevant. He never believed in the gods, he thought the gods were selfish and unkind, they kept themselves hidden from humanity because they never liked the mortals.

“Father... I want to be crowned king tomorrow early in the morning. I do not want to wait for the moon sighting, or any sort of superstition believes you’ve got in that Temple of yours. All the lords and nobles are invited, all houses will swear loyalty to me as their rightful king”

“But my prince...”

“There are no buts I’m afraid Father. Gather your people, the circle and whatever you may need and crown me King tomorrow. The war is coming... Prophis must have a King. These are times of needs father and I hope you understand”

After sometime Father Jakharyes agreed that it was indeed a tough time which demanded immediate action. He agreed to the prince’s needs and assured him he will do everything to secure him that crown tomorrow morning.

Hence by tomorrow Father Jakharyes had already assembled his circle of septas made of five septas, he lied to them he sighted the moon and it brought positive response. “We must crown the prince right now or wait for another year” and none of the septas were ready to wait a whole year without a King on the throne.

The celebrations were brief, intimate and attended by only the important Lords of the most powerful houses in Prophis. They were already invited to the palace hence there was no need to send them letters or wait until they arrived.

It was done in the throne room where there was a huge chair in the middle of the room, and it has been sitting there for ages. The throne was made up of silver – the sign of royalty in Prophis. The silver was so shiny as if it was new, those who once saw the throne claimed the silver keeps getting better day after day as if it’s new.

Although intimate but there was food being passed by servants and glasses of wine to entertain the guests. Castellan was standing next to his wife, Father Jakharyes stood in the middle of his circle of five septas holding the most precious crown in the whole kingdom of Prophis.

The celebrations started with Prince Castellan kneeling before the High Septon inside the circle formed by the five septas. Then he will take his oath to protect the realm, Prophisians and solidify the kingdom. After that he will be crowned King, told to rise and he will exit the circle and sit on the throne. After he sits the famous quote “Long may he reign” will follow.

Princess Thelma, Prince Ambrose and Prince Frost were all up and ready dressed in their royal silks and satins ready to witness their brother take the throne. Katarina stood by Castellan with their two sons, Barkis and Amabel. Amabel was twelve years old, strong, tall and fit just like his father. He was after all the next in line for the throne.

“Amabel is growing right before our very own eyes” Prince Ambrose whispered to his sister.

“He is indeed”

“Ready to lead us all over again just like his father. Why can’t I take over after Castellan dies?”

Princess Thelma was amazed “And break the hundred years of tradition. The house Taelin will tear itself apart”

“As if it hasn’t already sister. Look around, where are our other three brothers? I’m sure they must have heard of father’s death by now but they refused to show up. Ever since father died I knew our house died with him, he will not hold us together. Mark my words...” Ambrose finished and he turned his eyes to the front.

“I think he murdered father” Princess Thelma whispered to Ambrose. “I am not sure nor do I have any evidence, but I trust my guts he did it”

Ambrose told Thelma they should talk about that in depth after the coronation ceremony are over saying that wasn’t the right place because they had ears all over the place.

Prince Castellan was called inside the circle of the septas and knelt before Father Jakharyes. He said a few words repeating Father Jakharyes’s speech and then later he stood up – the circle opened and he walked to the silver throne.

With every step, from the circle to the throne Father Jakharyes was throwing tiny white flowers on his path. “May the angels of protection guide thee to power and glory” he muttered the words.

“What is he saying?” Princess Thelma asked her brother Prince Ambrose. She meant Father Jakharyes and his muttering which sounded like slow chants.

“It’s called the bind prayer” replied Prince Ambrose his eyes fixed at his brother taking the step to the throne.

“What’s a bind prayer?”

“May the angels of protection guide thee to power and glory. That’s what it says”

Prince Castellan reached the silver throne and he stopped for a second before he was allowed to sit on it. Father Jakharyes placed the crown on his head “I give you Castellan of House Taelin, the third. King of Prophis, Lord of the Icelands and Protector Of The Realm. Long may he reign” finished Father Jakharyes and the crown fitted Castellan as if it was made for him.

The famous chants started amongst every guest inside the throne room. “Long may he reign” they said.