The Makings Of a Prince | Changlix

| I |

A prince took care of the people. A prince took care of himself. A prince took care of small political problems when the time arises. He wakes up early to ready himself to bear the weight of responsibility and the problems of the kingdom. He washes himself clean of any dirt or any impurities from the day prior. He hosts meetings with the officials to share his wisdom with them; He leads them and gives them insight into his developing power. He attends his studies and works diligently to set an example for—not just the royalty and noblemen, but the servants and the lower class that worked hard under him. He doesn't panic when things go south. He doesn't show weakness, for the people will revolt without his confidence. He stays calm at all times, for he is the face of the kingdom. And when he retires for the night, there is an infinitesimal moment where he feels vulnerable.

However, what turns a prince into a king? What is the exact moment where a prince culminates into a ruler and not just some mascot waiting for their turn to lead?

And what makes a good ruler into a great ruler? If a great kingdom and a powerful army is a given, what does the king have to do to continue the upkeep? Or begin it at all?

For that, Yongbok believes it had something to do with the upbringing a king had as a prince.

As the king, he didn't take care of the people, but everything within and surrounding areas of the kingdom. He didn't only take care of himself, but a king took care of everyone in the court. He took care of every political problem with no exceptions. He wakes up early, having never gotten proper rest the night prior. He keeps his impurities and problems the next day and the day after—a king can't let go of a problem without properly solving it. A king doesn't set an example, for he is at the top of the pyramid; no one can be equal to him. No one could work as hard as him, for no one can be better than the king. He doesn't panic or show weakness—not even to his family, for the people will crumble without his confidence after placing their trust in him for years. He stays calm, providing a connection between the heavens and the people; he is the heart of the kingdom. And when the king retires for the night, he can't be vulnerable, for any form of vulnerability provides an opening for his enemies to attack him.

But if a king is twice—thrice—quadruple times a prince is, how could a prince even live up to the expectations placed upon himself?

"No. Tell them they're on their own. Especially after trading with Goguryeo. They swore their alliance to us first and Goguryeo second."

"No. They must do the ritual on their own. Just because one tiny village is in need, doesn't mean that it requires the entire attention of the court."

"No. Execute him. There's no need for a conference."

A king requires undivided attention. How could a prince become a king if these small, useless problems keep appearing? When villages, despite being self-sufficient and more, continue to make mistake after mistake? Royalty shouldn't need to affiliate themselves with such problems. There were much bigger problems that needed tending to, problems that Yongbok couldn't even assist in.

What help would he be, anyway?

"The scholars and looking for you, you know."

Yongbok turned around, acknowledging a familiar puppy-eyed individual behind him, jumping off his horse and dusting himself off. The older scoffs, turning back toward the river he sat in front of, silken royal hanbok dirtied from having fallen off his horse earlier. He leaned back on his palms, his Baji rolled up to his knees so he could dip his feet into the water.

"You're not fishing?" Seungmin questions, arching an eyebrow at the freckled prince. He crouched beside the younger, lifting and bunching his overcoat into his lap to keep them from touching the dirt. He leans over to glance at the river before grimacing in disgust and shuffling a step or two back.