Chapter 35

Days in Prophis were getting slower on Princess Thelma's side especially after she shared her secret with Katarina. She wasn't sure if she did the right thing or she just exposed 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, she 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 and take the throne.

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 of Prophis. He was twenty and three years of age.

What a day! Just exactly what Prince Castellan wanted, a High Septon he can control early on before he grew horns and questions his orders. After the holly ceremony at the temple of freezing gods, 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 at the city. This was the same place he had slit his father's throat.

The heavy black fur nearly made him invisible in the darkness. The winter had exceeded the coldness and no matter how much people covered themselves with heavy furs and fabrics, still they couldn't beat out the cold. The winter was upon them and for a place like Prophis, they experienced the harshest ones.

Father Jakharyes curtsied before Prince Castellan. "My prince..." he said softly.

"Father..." Castellan turned back to look at the High Septon with a smile on his lips and a cup full of wine on his left hand. "I was just watching the sun setting. It's the most relaxing thing to do. Wouldn't you agree?"

"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. At that age, one would expect him to be full of energy but he was rather diminished and one may mistake him for an older man.

We have no evidence as to how did Jakharyes come to be the High Septon of Prophis. The septas themselves claim the boy was dropped off by unknown man one night after King Taelin's death. He was neither experienced nor trained in the laws and traditions of freezing gods. The Faith Crones went even further to detail that Jakharyes was planted by a man with high authority at court to replace Father Henry. Everyone was shocked when he was given the post, the least deserving one amongst the septas. Until later on, everyone knew it was all part of Prince Castellan's plan.

The brown robe was slipping out of Jakharyes's 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 dark hairs which fell down effortlessly behind his back. It was the only part on his body which looked healthy.

"You are ought to eat more meat, lad. You are as thin as a lath."

Jakharyes struggled, "Yes, my prince." His teeth trembled to the point they met at the middle and shook. Prince Castellan grabbed a black fur jacket from his bed and threw it to him. Jakhreys grabbed it quickly and covered his thin body. The fur didn't stop his shaking body but it did sure buy him a few minutes of reminiscing the warmth.

"Thank you, my prince."

"You should cover yourself from now. The winter is too harsh to walk out with nothing but a robe."

"I sure will do that, my prince."

"Come, let's sit by the fire." Prince Castellan suggested and pulled a chair for himself and for Jakharyes right in front of the fire. Father Jakharyes sat down but he seemed nervous, just exactly what Prince Castellan was looking for — a frightening High Septon.

"Do you know why I summoned you here?"

"No, my prince."

"On the morrow, you will crown me king of Prophis in front of the masses."

"But my prince... I do not know the ways of the gods. I am but a sailor."

"You are a sailor no more lad. You are a High Septon now. I personally chose you and you will do as I command. I want you to read all the books in the temple tonight and be familiar with how to crown a King. Gather your septas, the circle of Faith Crones and whatever you may need and crown me King tomorrow. The war is coming... Prophis must have a King. These are times of needs lad and I must prevail."

By the morrow, Jakharyes had already assembled his septas. None of the septas were ready to be led by a boy who had no knowledge or whatsoever, but they had no choice. The task of crowning Castellan would naturally fall to Jakharyes, him being the High Septon but somehow he knew nothing about the rules. Hence, he was guided by the septas and Faith Crones all the way.

The coronation ceremony was brief, intimate and attended by few highborn of the most powerful houses in Prophis. 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 saw the Silver Throne up close claimed the silver kept shining brighter day by day.

Although the coronation was intimate, there was food being passed on by servants and glasses of wine to entertain the guests. Castellan was standing next to his wife, Father Jakharyes stood in the middle of the 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 took his oath to protect the realm, Prophisians and to solidify the kingdom. The Faith Crones anointed him with holly oil, ten times on his face and chest. After the anointment, he was told to rise.

The bells rang three times, and then they came to a halt. 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. He was strong, tall and fit just like his father. He was 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 stomp all over us just like his father. Why can't I take over after Castellan dies?"

Princess Thelma turned to him. "And break 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 about father's death by now. But they still refused to show up. Ever since father died, I knew our house died with him. Castellan will not hold this house together. Mark my words." Ambrose finished explaining himself to his sister and then 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 is 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 binding prayer," replied Prince Ambrose while his eyes were 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. Then, he shouted. "I give you, Castellan of House Taelin. First of His Name, King of Prophis, Lord of the Ice lands 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 all said loudly.