“You’re notsupposedto sign it,” Tanya snaps. “If he’s coercing you into doing so, he will be killed.”
Petre looks at her sharply, silencing whatever else she wants to spit out. Then she turns her gaze to my wife. “He wishes to abolish the monarchy and allow commoners to vote on what happens. By doing so, he’ll be getting rid of our Court so he can create a new one,” she says, her voice clipped but neutral. “As our positions are held until death, the only way we get to retire is through his sword.”
“Well, it’s a good thing there’s a thriving necromancer business here then.”
“And what about those of us who can’t afford that!” Coo demands. “That’s outrageous!”
“But I thought you all liked having to pay to live?”
Coo sputters.
I grin on the inside.
“The point is,” Petre says, getting us back on track, “is that what he fails to consider is that these commoners are not educated in politics. They… need guidance.”
Are stupid, is what she means. But that is why the new law will make it mandatory for politics to be taught every year in school. If school is about learning and teaching you life skills, there isn’t a more important one than that.
“Won’t the new ruler guide them?” Arienna asks.
“Eight,” I murmur.
She turns her head, her lips parting. “What happened to two through seven?” she whispers.
“They passed while Petre was talking. Nine.”
Her eyes widen. She tries to step away from me, but I don’t let her go. A small smirk pries at my lips.
“There will not be a new ruler in the normal sense,” Petre answers. “People will vote on what they want to happen and then whoever applies for the job will have to work to get those things done. It will basically act like a corporation but one where the workers can be fired by the people rather than the boss.”
Arienna yanks on her arms to get free. Reluctantly, I let her go. She jumps back in my chair, a heated flush on her cheeks.
Twenty-one.
“In simplistic terms, yes,” I say, my eyes on Petre, “but there is a lot more to it than that. I have studied thousands of different governments across the Seven Planes to see what does and doesn’t work.
“There won’t be parties that’ll divide and stagnate the process of getting things done. People will vote directly on the issues that concern the populace. Any private matters, such as abortions, non-violent narcotics, suicides, et cetera will never be controlled or even discussed by the kingdom so as not to waste taxes and time on matters that have zero effect on the public.
“To combat the rife greed seen in most governments, our politicians will be paid the median salary of their area, with private perks subtracted, and no work can be contracted out to someone with ties to a politician, including investment ties. That will boost small businesses even more given the bigger companies will mostly likely be disqualified, creating more jobs and local income. That in turn will keep money circulatingrather than staying tied up in banks, which will boost the economy and promote freer competition.
“And for a politician to even enter the running, they have to have passed all of their politics classes in school. They’ll also have to have held a minimum wage job for six months and lived off that wage alone so that they truly understand the problems of our people.”
I look around the table, wishing them to see the future as I see it. What Raza could be if we stopped trying to create division by pointing fingers at people simply because hating someone makes us feel better about our own shitty lives. If we took our desire and passion for change and actually used it forchangeinstead of continuing this pointless cycle of hatred.
“If we have to wait for everyone to vote every time we want to do something,” Tanya sneers, “nothing will ever get done. And we are still at war. I did not think you’d forget what hesitation costs one in war, Your Majesty.”
Biting back my anger over her simple-minded cuntness, I glare at her. “I am well aware of what hesitation can cause, but if you actually read the fucking file I gave you, then you would know I addressed that. A special court would be created to act on military matters without the need for a vote by the general populace.”
“And what happens if that court wishes to use the taxes on defending our borders instead of building some stupid art instalment? Then who gets the funding?” Coo demands.
“They’ll have separate budgets to be decided on by the populace through a percentage distribution rather than a monetary amount, as well as a knowledgeable estimation for what’s needed to protect this kingdom from both current and fear-mongering threats.”
As the conversation grows, it becomes even more heated. Most of the questions they throw at me have already beenanswered in the thick stack of papers I gave them a week ago. My patience starting to wear thin, I squeeze the back of my queen’s chair. She doesn’t say a word (a good brownie never interrupts), and I can’t see her face from here. I want to take her away from all this toxicity and just breathe in her arms. But she needs to be present for this conversation. Otherwise, her signature will be void on the grounds of her ignorance.
Have I ironed out every little detail? Of course not. It’s impossible to visualise the effects of a law without seeing it in practice. I’m sure there is a lot wrong with it. But it’s a hel of a start.
If only they would open their fucking eyes.
“You’ve been trying to ruin this kingdom ever since you were crowned,” Coo snaps. “We never should’ve allowed a man to sit on the throne.”
