Prince William just silenced everyone, and the deafening quiet is rattling the stained glass and shaking the rafters.

Make no mistake, his presence at the Archbishop of Canterbury's enthronement today was no PR box-ticking exercise. It was a line in the sand - the ultimate, iron-clad proof of the "quiet faith" he finally intends to own. William doesn't view the Church as an archaic burden. He has accepted it as his destiny.

No, his faith isn't as loud as Queen Elizabeth II's - it doesn't appear to be as foundational or as shackled by an invisible chain keeping him grounded. Nor does it mirror the mystical, multi-faith philosophy of his father. His approach is modern, and like with everything he does, entirely indicative of 21st-century life. Perhaps he is more secular in his views, but certainly not apathetic.

As he saw the first female Archbishop sworn in, he signalled that his quiet faith is more in tune with life today, rather than the piety, sacrifice and divinity of his predecessors. One day, God willing, he will be King himself, and it's very possible that it could be Dame Sarah holding the crown aloft and crossing him with the Holy Oil from Jerusalem when the time comes.

Today was the start of that grand partnership. Dame Sarah's exchange of roles from Chief Nursing Officer to chief bishop and her "faith in action" is very William-coded; it is exactly what he champions with his work in homelessness and mental health.

However, the idea that William is somehow too modern for the Church has always been a lazy narrative. It runs deep within him, and he is all too aware that, by an accident of birth, he will wear the crown and be seated in the almighty St Edward's Chair, taking the oath to govern with law, justice and mercy.

He will be God's representative on Earth and doesn't need a lecture on the weight of the crown.

His faith isn't the bedrock of everything he does; it doesn't hang like a weighty albatross around his neck because he is a man intent on driving the monarchy forward like a perfectly oiled machine with behind-the-scenes action rather than grand spectacle.

The last two years have seen him come face-to-face with his own mortality, with both his father and his wife being made vulnerable by a cruel sledgehammer of a disease, so it is entirely unsurprising that now is the moment he has issued his red line.

His message is entirely clear: don't expect some radical move, don't expect him to pull a Henry VIII and break with the Church, but do expect him to make his own mark - a role redefined on his own terms.