Restituta laughed, but she wondered what he knew but doubted it was of any importance when it came to her own country. “All’s been well, but where did you hear that?” Her hand tightened slightly on the glass.

“Well, rumours spread, my dear lady. They say that people are dissatisfied with how things are in Itoro and want to change things for…the better.” His words trailed off seductively. Then, he took another sip of the cocktail. “You know, this is great, but I do prefer the stronger stuff.”

“A true revolutionary indeed.” She did know there were groups running around asking for a republic, for a better state for the poor. “But what if the states choose to prevent that by reforming themselves to prevent a revolution?” 

“How would that happen?” His gaze was now suddenly fixed on her. “Are representatives from each state meeting to plan this? How can they ensure that they’re all on the same page, and that there won’t be disagreements about who’s right?” He stirred his drink, awaiting an answer. 

“You’ll be surprised what people are willing to accept when the alternative is losing their power, position and wealth,” Restituta smiled, feeling at home. “The king in Erandel chose to accept their position in the nation, however diminished because it beat being exiles or princes of some small tiny principality; even a king of Rancie, had chosen to give up his faith because it was a small price to pay compared to losing the most powerful kingdom on the continent. And they all have that one goal in common: survival and maintaining it. Without their titles, they are nothing.” 

“That is true. When people are pushed to the extreme, this seems like a small price to stay. And what do the people think of their monarchs now? Do they feel like the kings are representative of them, or would they prefer…a more Classical way of deciding things?” Ardalion’s eyes were suddenly shining with excitement. Clearly, this was something he was passionate about. 

“Back in Antiquity, Potestians voted on things. One man, one vote. It’s a radical idea now, but it’s actually been around for thousands of years.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “What do you think, Madame? Do you think it’s still applicable to modern day society? Or, do you think that modern man is too corrupt and too complicated to adopt democracy? At its core, democracy is a simple idea…”

“I would not count it out you see, but I say with the current way of life, it is not probable yet; Potestians limited citizenship to a certain select group. You had to be the son of a Potestian to participate,” Restituta said. “Because to give it freely to all men within the city is dangerous, and it leaves you open to hailing a tyrant whom the people see as a protector. They need to be literate and educated, before I trust them with the vote. But I do not believe you require any land and hence any stake to vote in a country that is your home.”

“Good point.” Ardalion uncrossed his arms and leaned slightly closer to Restituta. “You’re right. You don’t need land to vote for your own country. Do you think anyone should be able to vote for their country, then? As long as they are a citizen?”

“Yes, I do think that. Regardless of gender or wealth.” Restituta inched back a bit. 

Eyes shining, he pressed, “I see. So we’re on the same page, then. Say, do you think someone needs to be educated about politics to vote? What if someone doesn’t pay attention to what’s going on? Should they still be able to vote? What if they’re paid to vote for someone who doesn’t have the country’s best interests in mind?”

Restituta nodded, leaning forward. “It’s so difficult, isn’t it? But, knowing about politics isn’t the same as being taught. It’s a skill that I think you got to learn yourself, or rather, it’s to learn about people. All politicians are people at the end of the day, and sometimes, you see uneducated commoners who see right through the politicians and well-educated people who get sucked by a man in there for their own glory and advancement. Good men get seen as tyrants and monsters get hailed as heroes depending on how good they are at protecting their own image.” 

Ardalion chuckles, amused by Restituta’s answer. “That’s true. Anyone can be bribed or tricked. It’s a corrupt world, after all. But what if someone doesn’t even know how to read? It might be really hard for certain people to learn about something if they can’t read the newspaper. Is there a way for them to learn about politics so they can vote for the right candidate? Would you promote a public education system to this end? Do you think democracy should only start after there’s more education or…”—here, he lowered his voice—“as soon as possible?”

“When there’s more education, you’re looking at the country and the city that started a revolution that only ended in a terror and mass execution of civillains and nobles alike. After that, they went to embrace a ruler that was not all that different from the king they overthrew.” Restituta turned, glancing outside the window. “I would always promote education first, because once they know they will demand their rights. You can’t ever ask for something you never knew were yours and you can’t be cheated out of it if they don’t think they can get away with it.” 

“That’s wise. I agree with you. People should be able to choose things. Only through knowledge can they embrace their rights. Otherwise, we’re just pontificating to them.” Ardalion rubbed his cocktail glass. Noticing that Restituta was looking out the window, he asked, “Something that matter?”