“Eyon,” said Gob. “Listen to me.”

Startled, Eyon fell silent. He had never heard Gob call him anything but “Master” before.

“Answer Gob this, Eyon: why do we, the gobs, have no king?”

“I…I don’t know,” stammered Eyon. “B-because his line died out?”

“We, the gobs, have no king because we believe that a person is defined by their actions. Not by their family. Not by their line. By their actions.”

“So then, to have a king, you would need someone to…act like one?” Eyon said.

“Not how one acts, Eyon. By their actions. Listen to Gob: we believe that anyone who would be out king must take kingly action. They must protect the gobs in time of war, see that they are provided for in time of peace, and act with wisdom and justice and kindness otherwise.”

Eyon rubbed his eyes. “But we’ve had good kings before in Pexate that did that,” he sniffed. “Good kings.”

“Perhaps we have, but we the gobs also hold that anyone who is king that ceases to act as one is no longer king, has that name stripped from them, and is cast down. As Gob has been cast down, from there to fade away or prove themselves anew.”

“You’re saying that the old kings of Pexate, even the best kings of Pexate, wouldn’t lose their name and their throne if they stopped being good, and that’s why they were never kings of the gobs?” Eyon said.

Gob said nothing, instead resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“No…no,” Eyon said. “You mean that they never did anything to earn the name in the first place.”

“Yes,” said Gob. “Now you and Gob must ask this question: what are you and Gob going to do to earn our names?”

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