The Weight of the Crown
He sat in the silent hall, the crown heavy in his hands. The boy was nearly of age, but
unprepared to assume the responsibilities that would be granted him. He himself knew their
weight only too well; he slept but intermittently, his rest unable to progress through dreams
as sluggish and dark as molasses. If the boy was to rise to confront these same demons, he
must be shown a glimpse of their visage.
A king's suffering is doubly sharp, for in whom can he confide? And each misstep that he should make is echoed in the lives of thousands. Could he place a child who had never known suffering before his people and say, "The prince is old enough; he rules you now"? He had grown old, it was true, but it was a role better suited to age.
So: age, like wisdom, could be taught. But the teaching would not be pleasant for either of them.