Crown my King

Once upon a time, in the Kingdom of Ataraxia, widely known for its remarkable agricultural production, in addition to the domain’s breathtaking scenery. An esteemed king resided in the heart of the nation, and his name was King Alessandre Vespertine; a young ruler, only in his first years of adulthood and admired by the majority of his kingdom. Presently, the people of Ataraxia are approaching the town square after each resident was given an invitation, written on the finest parchment the empire could offer, adorned with an elegant gold leaf perimeter; all under his majesty’s orders. These grounds swelled with bodies as Ataraxian citizens huddled together, in hopes of getting the best view of their ruler. The audience deafens as a male solider over dramatically coughs into his clutched pristine glove.

“His imperial majesty, the ruler of Ataraxia; King Alessandre Vespertine!” A small man with cherry red cheeks cries out to the crowd after blowing into his golden trumpet. The King was quick to ascend the creaky wooden steps with such haste the residents became nervous.

“Citizens of Ataraxia before I commence, I request a favor. Your pale complexions are unmistakable, please breathe easy, I do not come with troubling news or any sort of harsh declaration.” The King spoke smoothly, with no sense of urgency or anger, reassurance cut through the tension like a cool refreshing blade.

After a heartbeat’s moment, he began. “Self-expression, A concept not considered to be of the upmost importance to a kingdom where we busy ourselves with battle strategies for wars, better our infrastructure, eliminating chances of famine, poverty, or potentially fatal threats. You all, as a collective, must be asking yourselves why I would be addressing this at times of peace. It has been three months since my predecessor met his end. King Zess’ life was stripped from him, owing to his fiendish hunger for greed and power.” Taking in an irritated breath, the King continued his speech.

“I shamefully admit this tyrant was none other than my own father, I would rather giftwrap my soul and present it to the devil himself before allowing his ideology to run rampant again. Self-expression is a rudimentary principle you all ought to acknowledge you possess and must never take shame in. There are many crucial demands in life, basic needs like work, food, housing, money, land, are all vital to preserving life, but how and where can you as an indiv—.”

“King Alessandre this is preposterous!” The ruler is interrupted suddenly by the presence of five older men, all sporting a form of gray facial hair, falling at different lengths, and collectively irate.

“I should have figured you decrepit madmen would be in attendance.” Venom dripped from the mouth of the ruler, laced with ill temper. “I am the keeper of the crown now and as the ruling monarch it is my obligation to address my people as I see fit.” Fury woven into his response, challenging the rowdy men’s outburst.

“King Alessandre, your behavior as king thus far is appalling. The way you present yourself and the methods of ruling you employ are utterly ludicrous. Neighboring countries view Alaxaria as a laughingstock! How do you feel knowing this?” The tallest of the group shouted with such force; bits of saliva were flying everywhere.

“How do I feel? Honestly, my country men, those countries’ judgement does not concern me one bit. The opinions of one should not matter when I have thousands to oversee.” He admitted in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Does the marriage you fought so hard for not embarrass you your majesty? Our neighbors are refusing to do trade with Ataraxia because of your sinful marriage.” A raspy voice cast another bolt of resentment at King Alessandre.

“Embarrass me? No, it does not because if it did, do you really think I would have fought so hard for it in the first place? I suggest you hang yourselves with your own tongues, what's mortifying is how you five men and others like you brandish Queen Noe and I’s marriage as sinful. The fact is that you refuse to evolve, instead you stubbornly hang on to those destructive, outdated beliefs!” Becoming tiresome of their senseless and judgmental dictations, evident in his fatigued phrasing.

“Destructive outdated beliefs? Your majesty basic human decency can inform you that a queen should be a woman!” His old pasty face turning a bright shade of red with anger.

“Noe is my heart, mind, and soul. He shares my ideals and dreams. My queen should be a person that I can put my complete trust in, and that person has always been, and will always be Noe.” Brown eyes are locked on the ground to avoid looking at his opposition’s infuriated expression, rage bubbling from deep within his gut as the men continued to push their traditional values on him.

“This is a joke! The primary function of a queen is to sit beside the monarch and look pretty! How is this to remain true when you have chosen a man to sit by your side?” A man with a beer belly retorted in a frenzy.

“I think Noe is quite the looker—.” The gentleman with the reding face tried to intervene, but the king gestured to him to stop because he had more to say. “As arguably the oldest souls in the world, have you lot ever played chess?” Alessandre questioned the ire assembly. They all agreed collectively with a face of disbelief, not understanding why the king would ask such a peculiar question.

“Ok good, now, what would you consider the most important piece on a chess board?” All five men answered with the same response in stereo, “The king”.

“Incorrect.” Alessandre shot back immediately. “It's the queen. The king stands idly by like a fool while the queen roams the board protecting his king like a wild flame. My time is spent worrying about what takes place inside and outside of these walls, while my queen watches over the kingdom. He forms diplomatic relations with our neighbors by attending important social gatherings, that I cannot, and builds personal connections with the citizens of this fine nation. He uncovers new and inventive ways that we can utilize to keep the peace. In retrospect, I am the one who sits back and looks pretty while he applies himself entirely.” Alessandre spoke about his queen with such pride his skin looked to be glowing. “Queen Noe bleeds this nation's blood, just like the rest of us; his good deeds will not be sullied over something as arbitrary as a social construct!” He declared with fervor.

“King Alessandre Vespertine you have no right being king, you are an incapable ruler; I predict you will one day plague this kingdom and poison us!” Those were their last words before they left in a fit of rage. King Alessandre inhaled a gust of air; his anger and annoyance evaporated as he peered into the fervent eyes of his nation’s people.

“Self-expression is a rudimentary principle you all ought to acknowledge you possess and must never take shame in. Don’t let ideological tyrants with bent philosophies dictate your lives, not when you can do it yourself. The world looks a lot brighter from an unchained perspective. I have hope that one day we can all break those shackles that cause us to oppose things like Queen Noe and I’s marriage and in hope, breed independence. To create a world of individuality and acceptance, this is what I envision for my nation of peace. Thank you.”

King Alessandre Vespertine descended the two steps, planting the rubber soles of his black boots onto the gravel; a small winning smile was painted on his face, and he was overflowing with anticipation for his nation and its people.