Niccolo's Young Prince

“You rather be feared than loved,” Niccolò screamed, his booming voice echoed throughout the hall. His sentence bouncing from wall to wall as his words sent shudders down the rest of the scholars’ backs. He looks at them with his menacing eyes drawing them in. At the far corner hidden away from his preying eyes the young prince looks away from Niccolò as he knew the words were meant for him. " But was he not a feared noble? Didn’t his servants respect him enough to crower in fear when he walked by?" the young prince thought. Niccolò walked back to his sit and sat down, he continued on with his lecture. His eyes mainly on the young prince never darting away just jabbing his words, letter for letter into his young mind. "As nobles it’s our birthright to rule over those whose blood are tainted by the land. We were placed on this mighty land to ensure its prosperity, however, for us to do so we must make sure those beneath out feet stay there. Are we not gods? " "But godliness is not just reserved for those in nobility, a commoner may come to claim a place among you." “Commoner,” the scholarly murmurs are heard floating around. “Yes, a commoner, a mere dirt boy from the streets of Florence, you may wonder what such a commoner need do to be considered a conqueror? To conqueror is what he must do. He must fight and take from this very lands, labor and sweat to be feared not respected but feared." Niccolò paused and looked at the scholars, noting their confused expressions "But can a commoner really keep the spoils?" One scholar inquired . "Yes," Niccolò answered. "Even a mercenary in the right condition can conquer." I will ask you, “does a good leader need to be good?” The scholars look at each other their eyes gleaming with yes, Niccolò looks at them with wonder and continues on “Or does he need to be good to the people?” The scholars visibly confused, one stands up and asks, “But is there a difference Scholar Niccolò?” “I will give an example, a king conquers a country, he takes all they know away and gives them his culture, he brings them prosperity and no war while in another country a king takes a country he lets them be how they were, all he wants is loyalty and gold. Which leader will keep his conquered?” Murmurs fill the room again. The young prince who has been silent for the meeting suddenly stands up , he looks at Niccolò, his lips trembly,” the …. The…,” his timid voice barely heard . Niccolò chuckles,” your voice is barely heard my lord,” The young prince contemplates sitting down but the servant next to him pokes him to remain standing. “ The leader who assimilated them will keep his conquered,” he shouts More murmurs fill the room, some scholars shout wrong while others nod in agreement with the young prince's conclusion, Niccolò impressed asks him, “ and why do you assume so my lord,” The young prince clears his thought with a cough then speaks, “The people have nothing of their old practices they have no other loyalties but to the new king, however, the other king has to compete with his new people’s practices and way of life, they will eventually rebel which a warrior arises,” Claps thunder in the hall, Niccolò stands up and he continues clapping, “ my my our young lord is grown," he says "The young Lord indeed right , let people reign free and your throne will always be threatened. However, when you make sure they have nothing to fight for but you. Only then , only then will you have the throne forever" The young prince sits down, his face full of pride amid the glares from scornful scholars. He had proven himself to his tutor but he knew this was a long way from earning his favor. He feels a hand pat him on the back, caressing him slightly before letting go, the warmth left by the hand makes him smile bigger. He can feel the eyes on him but he dare not look, not here seated among men who would use this as an opportunity to steal his throne as if they weren't looking for more reasons he shouldn't be king. He will be king, he assures himself only then will he have all he wants and protect his most precious. Niccolò's voice draws him back to reality, he adjusts his body so as not to be close to his source of warmth. Niccolò's voice draws his back to reality and he looks at him. He wonders how such a young man could lecture a room full of old men and all of them listen. Niccolò was a man of greatness, a man who will lead him to the throne. This the young prince believed. "you, my lord, are destined to be a great king. A man feared and loved by all of Florence," Niccolò had whispered to him during on of their lectures. The young prince trusted him, with his whole being if not his life as he owned Niccolò a lot from convincing his father to make him his heir to being his friend. The young prince would follow Niccolò anywhere. Niccolò had done a lot for Florence too, he had helped the King with military tactics to keep the invaders at bay. He was wants protecting Florence from being attacked. Niccolò 's teachings continued as the young prince marveled at him. Occasionally their eyes would meet and a sly smile would form on Niccolò 's lips. It was like they could read each others mind and know the other is thinking of them. Soon the lecture would end and it will just be them and their lessons. His father, the King was very strict when it came to his teaching. He was not the favoured for the throne so the King wanted to make sure he was well equipped to rule. The young prince sighed with sadness he was worried he will never win his father's approval. " That will be all for today scholars, we meet again soon," Niccolò said with his eyes trailed at the young prince. The scholars stood up one by one and left, some walked to Niccolò to shake his hands others just left. His eyes never leaving the prince's. Then it was just the two of them, in a hall so big their pounding hearts echoed. ................................... He stood up and walked down the steps towards him....