BlogNomic: The First Dynasty of Desertfrog

Every year a new parade of eager young people appear at the Doge’s court, eager to make their name. Pity those, however, who come of age just in time for a Doge’s funeral; the Court of the Wise Men is no place for the green.

Today’s correspondent is a hurt soul. He thought he had found a friend, but there are no friends here. The fellow in whom he placed his trust promised him the world: entry to high society, the rarefied shoulders of the great and the good to rub against, and a place in the upper echelons of the Court for life, all in exchange for naught but his vote. An offer was made, but was, of course, rescinded, and now the young man finds himself cast off, mocked, and abused.

It seems that one must ideally have a knack for power, as the lessons are punishingly expensive.

What isn’t expensive, however, is news of the goings-on at the court. That is free; you just have to know who your friends are. For I, of course, am your friend forever, and you shall know everything that I know, except for my identity; that, of course, is one secret I’ll never tell.

xoxo,
Lady Pettegola