The Good Crown

Chapter 3

I stood before my father, the king, with a mixture of confidence and nerves twisting inside me. The council chamber was dimly lit, as always, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across the heavy oak table where the kingdom's advisors gathered. My father, King Alaric, sat at the head of the table, his regal posture commanding attention. The rest of the council—advisors, generals, nobles—sat around him, their eyes fixed on me. Some with curiosity, others with barely disguised skepticism.

This was it. The moment I'd been working toward for months.

"My proposal is simple," I began, keeping my voice steady. "We open the doors of the prince and princess academy to the children of the town. Not just the nobility, but those who live beyond the castle walls. The future of the kingdom should not be divided by birth."

A murmur rippled through the room, like a wave of disapproval, and I could feel the weight of their stares. My father remained silent, his expression unreadable as he watched me. The man seated to his right—Lord Harren, one of my father's oldest advisors—was the first to speak up.

"Your Highness," Harren began, his voice slow and measured, "while your ambition is admirable, you must understand that the academy has always been reserved for the children of the elite. It prepares them for the roles they will play in the kingdom's governance. Allowing commoners—"

"Townfolk," I corrected sharply. "They are not common. They are our people."

Harren narrowed his eyes, undeterred. "Allowing them into such an institution would disrupt the balance. They lack the refinement, the education, the decorum required to walk alongside future leaders."

Another council member, Lady Aurelia, shook her head, folding her hands in front of her. "Noah, the people of the town live a very different life. The schooling you're suggesting—it's not just about reading books or learning politics. It's about culture. They wouldn't fit in."

The backlash wasn't unexpected. In fact, I had prepared myself for it. But that didn't make it any easier to hear.

"I'm not suggesting we throw open the gates without preparation," I continued, refusing to let them derail me. "We can introduce the program gradually, selecting children from town based on merit. We offer them the same education we do to the nobles, and over time, they'll prove they can stand as equals."

My father, who had remained silent through the entire exchange, finally spoke. His deep voice filled the room, and everyone fell silent. "You know this will cause unrest," he said, his eyes piercing into mine. "The nobles won't stand for it. Many of them fund the academy, and they do so to secure their children's future. If we start admitting children from outside the nobility, we risk alienating those who support us."

"I understand that, Father," I replied, my voice softening. "But the kingdom is already divided. The people in town—they're not savages. They work hard, and they deserve better. We've isolated ourselves for too long, and if we don't bridge this gap now, it will only grow wider. We can't keep pretending the problems in the town will just go away."

King Alaric's face remained expressionless, but I could tell he was considering my words. It was something he did often—listening to every side before making a decision. But the council wasn't as patient.

"Prince Noah," another voice spoke up—Lord Fenton, a man known for his staunch traditionalism. "This isn't just about education. It's about the stability of the kingdom. The townfolk don't understand our ways. They're crude, rough—unfit for the kind of education you're proposing. Do you really believe they could stand alongside your peers, those born to lead?"

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my frustration in check. "Yes," I said firmly. "I do. In fact, I believe some of them could outshine those born to lead. I've spent time in the town. I've met the people there. They're not as different from us as you think."

A few advisors exchanged glances, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. My father's gaze never left mine, and for a long moment, the room was silent.

Finally, my father leaned forward, his hands resting on the table. "You're asking me to make a decision that could change the very fabric of this kingdom," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of his position. "To disrupt centuries of tradition. You must realize, Noah, that such a move will not be easily accepted."

I took a deep breath. "I do. But I believe in this kingdom. And I believe in our people—all of them. We have the power to make this place better for everyone, not just those who were born with privilege."

The silence that followed was deafening. My heart pounded in my chest, but I didn't look away from my father. I needed him to see that I wasn't backing down, that I was committed to this vision.

After what felt like an eternity, King Alaric rose from his seat. The room collectively held its breath as he crossed the space between us and stood before me. He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"You've always been a dreamer, Noah," he said quietly, though his voice carried through the room. "And this dream of yours... it's bold. It will be difficult, and there will be resistance."

He paused, glancing at the advisors before turning back to me.

"But sometimes, the boldest dreams are the ones worth pursuing."

There was a collective intake of breath from the council, but my father wasn't finished. "We will discuss this further," he said, addressing the room now. "But for now, I am not dismissing the idea outright. Now head over to classes."

As I left the council chamber, the weight of the conversation still hung in the air. My father hadn't outright rejected the idea, but the resistance from the council was real. I knew this was only the beginning of the battle I'd have to fight if I wanted to change things. Tradition ran deep in the kingdom, and many would see my vision as a threat to the order they'd clung to for generations.

I walked through the grand halls of the castle, the polished stone floors gleaming in the early morning light that streamed through the high windows. The echoes of the council's voices still played in my head, but I tried to shake them off. I had to focus on my next task—heading to the academy for my lessons. Despite being a prince, my day was still filled with study and training.

As I rounded the corner toward the courtyard, I saw my mother, Queen Elara, walking down the corridor. Her light blue gown flowed gracefully behind her, and her soft, kind eyes lit up when she saw me.

"Noah," she called, her smile wide as she approached. "I heard about the meeting."

I stopped and smiled, grateful for her presence. "Word travels fast around here."

She chuckled softly. "When it comes to my son making his first real push for change, yes, it does." Her expression softened as she placed a hand on my arm. "I'm proud of you, Noah. It's no small thing to stand in front of the council and propose something so bold."

I nodded, feeling a sense of warmth at her words. "Thank you. I just... I don't know if they'll ever accept it, though. There's so much resistance. Sometimes it feels like I'm fighting an impossible battle."

Queen Elizabeth tilted her head, her golden hair catching the light. "Every great change has faced resistance. People are often afraid of what they don't understand, especially when it threatens the way things have always been."

Her words were exactly what I needed to hear. My mother had always been my biggest supporter, even when I was younger and would speak out against the injustices I saw around the kingdom. She believed in me, and that belief gave me strength.

"I know," I said, meeting her gaze. "I just... I need to find a way to prove to everyone that this isn't just some idealistic dream. That the kids from the town can succeed just like the nobility."

"You will," she said, her voice filled with quiet confidence. "I've seen you grow into a man who cares deeply about this kingdom and its people—all of them. You have a kind heart, Noah, and that will carry you farther than you know."

I smiled at her, feeling a bit lighter as I took in her words. "Thanks, Mother. I just hope Father can see it too."

"He will," she assured me. "In time."

With that, she gave me a gentle squeeze on the arm before nodding toward the academy. "Now, you'd best get to your lessons. You don't want to be late, even if you are the prince."

I laughed softly. "Of course. I'll see you later."