Rise of an emperor: The seventh prince

Chapter 3: Something in him.

The next day being a Sunday, was another day full of various surprises for the royal household.

Princess Crystabel woke up early that morning, and with the help of her maids began to prepare for Sunday mass.

She was still doing so when her mother, Queen Cordelia, came inside her chambers, fully dressed for the church service also.

"Good morning, mother." she greets her mother, bowing a little as a form of curtsey.

"Good morning, how was your night?" the Queen asked.

"It was fine, mother, yours?"

"Hmmm...it was okay" Queen Cordelia sighed.

Princess Crystabel immediately thought of her younger brother Prince Arthur.

She really hoped he was fine.

She decides to ask her mother about his welfare, since she ( her mother) was the one who went to the king to intercede on his behalf.

"What about Arthur?"

"He would be released shortly. Your father just called for Varrons to release him. He probably may join us in mass later."

"Okay let me swiftly finish up. We all know his Majesty hates being late to mass." Princess Crystabel replied.

"Good. I would use the spare time to go check on your sisters to see if they are ready also." Queen Cordelia said and swiftly made her exist out of her daughter's chambers.

A few minutes later, the family of six left the palace for the cathedral as Queen Jasmine and her children don't attend mass so often except on royal occasions being done in the church like a royal coronation for example.

...

St Peter's the rock cathedral, was indeed a sight to behold.

Built by King James IV, the great grandfather of the present king, it was indeed a wonder.

Nestled amidst ancient oaks and weathered gravestones, the medieval Anglican church stands as a testament to enduring devotion.

Its sturdy stone walls, crafted from moss-flecked limestone, rise like a sentinel, their Gothic arches pointing heavenward like fingers in prayer.

The roof, a tapestry of time-darkened tiles, slopes sharply to shed against severe rainfalls, its wooden beams etched with the whispers of centuries.

A squat, square tower anchors the west end, its belfry housing a bronze bell that tolls with a voice as deep as memory.

The entrance, a carved oak door adorned with iron hinges and a worn shield bearing the church's crest, leads into a sanctuary of warm, honeyed light.

Inside, the nave's flagstone floor, polished by generations of footsteps, guides the eye to the chancel, where stained-glass windows—depicting saints and martyrs—cast kaleidoscopic patterns onto the wooden pews.

The air is thick with the scent of old wood, stone, and a hint of incense, a legacy of countless prayers. Delicate rosette carvings dance along the chancel arch, and the altar, draped in rich crimson, glows with the flicker of candles.

Though age has softened its edges, the church exudes a quiet, steadfast peace—a place where time pauses, and the eternal whispers loud.

King Alfred and the other royal members who were present with him took their seats at the designated place assigned to them.

The service was full to the brim and was going on smoothly.

All seemed to be well, or maybe not.

At his seat by the altar, the archbishop Cyril Jones sat down, deep in thoughts.

He was thinking of the dream he had last night concerning the kingdom of Naviel.

In his dream, he saw Naviel in total chaos and war.

Men were being slayed by an unknown force which was not shown to him to him in the dream, women were being raped publicly while their husbands stood at one corner being held by men from the said unknown force who took turns to ravish the women one by one, children were being massacred and taken as slaves, the officials and noble men were being paraded butt naked by the enemies to show their defeat.

But then when all was lost and when everyone said to themselves that all hope was lost, a savior came and defeated the enemies and delivered Naviel from their oppressors.

Again the funny thing also was that the saviour's face was not shown also but he knows that the said saviour was from the royal house hold.

He began to evaluate which of whom it was that was the saviour.

Is it Prince Frederick who doesn't attend mass and had a very bad character, a chronic womanizer and bully, or is it Prince Erics who was good and okay but who had a bad temper when angry.

Is it Prince Derrick who doesn't know his left from his right, or Prince Daniel who was gentle in character but don't know how to take firm decisions, because he was easily influenced by his peers and family members when making decisions.

Just then when the Canon in residence who was the celebrant of the service called on the archbishop to come and deliver the sermon to the congregation, Prince Arthur walked into the church in grand style.

He was wearing a green tunic shirt of light material, matching trousers and black leather shoes.

On his neck held a silver crucifix given to him by the archbishop, then bishop when he was sixteen years old on his birthday.

His right hand also held a silver bracelet which was eye catching.

Off course no one needed to be told that all the ladies in the cathedral that day were shaking out of admiration for the handsome man.

Some even started thinking the unimaginables in their mind, all because of him.

Behind him as his escorts were his two closest companions, Greg Williams and Talbot Harris, who were dressed in black tunics shirts and black trousers with black riding boots to match, with their swords fastened by their side.

Immediately Prince Arthur made his entrance into the service, the archbishop who was about to get up and preach his sermon, saw him enter and suddenly felt in his mind that the young prince was indeed and definitely the saviour of Naviel Kingdom, or he played an important role in it, because the was something in him that made him special and distinguished, standing out amongst the crowd, even amongst his brothers and friends.

There was this particular feeling he had about the young prince. He possessed a certain charisma or rather an aura around him.

Archbishop Cyril Jones immediately smiled at the young prince who returned the smile to him before taking his seat next to his elder sister Princess Crystabel.

Greg and Tablot immediately took their place by the back sit behind him while scanning the whole church to see if there was anything or anyone that would pose as a threat to the Prince and the royal family at large.

...

After the service the king and the remaining family members went back to the palace with the royal carriage while Prince Arthur stayed back because the sexton of the Cathedral had come to pass a message to him that the archbishop asked to see him after the service.

He went to the bishop's court which was behind the cathedral to wait for the archbishop.

Ten minutes later the archbishop came in now dressed in comfortable clothes and asked one of his servants to serve Prince Arthur tea and some biscuits.

"My beloved son, I heard of the issue between you and your father from one of your sisters this morning. I want to encourage you that you should not let all these situations that are happening in your life weigh you down but instead see them as a training that would guide you to your destiny".

The archbishop paused for a little while before he continued.

"You have a great destiny and I want you to make up your mind on what you want to become in life because only you can choose. Life is more about the choices you make, either good or bad."

Prince Arthur said nothing, as he never at all wanted to delve back into the issues of yesterday or the ones in the past.

But he took notice of the last few words of the archbishop which were:

"make up your mind"

Wasn't that the same thing that his mother told him the night before?

Not wanting to spoil the beautiful moment, the archbishop upon sensing the young prince's stance, immediately changed the topic.

They then began to talk on politics and other matters that concerns Naviel and it's neighbouring kingdoms.