Building Institutions

Autumn leaves swirled across Capitol Square where scaffolding embraced a granite edifice soon to house the Institute of Governance and Administration (IGA). The IGA would, Sharath declared, "train shepherds for the vast flock of paperwork our progress breeds."

Inside temporary offices, the inaugural cohort—sons of nobles, daughters of cobblers, former soldiers, freed slaves—studied algorithms for fair taxation, epidemiological mapping, and mediation techniques for village councils. Professors blended Socratic debate with practicum: one week in classroom, next embedded in agencies from customs to waterworks.

Senior tutor Lady Keltra drilled students on Seven Principles of Adaptive Governance:

Evidence First – policy rooted in measurable data.

Transparency – ledgers and minutes publicly posted.

Subsidiarity – decisions made closest to those affected.

Iteration – small pilots before large mandates.

Accountability – officials evaluated against clear metrics.

Inclusivity – affected groups consulted, actively not perfunctorily.

Ethics of Care – power justified only by service to well-being.

To test these, students tackled a live case: two hill villages disputing grazing rights. Divided into teams, they gathered land-use data, interviewed shepherds, consulted ecological maps, and drafted compromise zoning. The real villagers then reviewed proposals via telegraph and cycle courier, selecting the most balanced plan. Success or failure showed instantly in winter fodder yields—no ivory-tower theories here.

Parallel to IGA, the Civil Service Examination Board launched kingdom-wide entry tests. Not rote regurgitation but scenario analysis: "A fever spreads along canal towns; design containment." Scores adjusted for regional schooling disparities, ensuring talent, not origin, determined posting.

Some nobles grumbled—"Upstarts in quills replacing birthright!" Duke Aldric, now seasoned by reform, retorted in council, "Ability pays taxes; titles do not." Public sentiment sided with competence; the press celebrated sheaf-haired village girls earning clerkships once reserved for gentry sons.

Sharath toured the nearly finished granite halls. Carved above the entrance: Pro Bono Publico—For the Public Good. He traced the chisel marks and felt a quiet thrill: institutions, not heroes, would steer the next century. His name might fade, but systems built on those seven principles could outlive any monument.

That night, he tucked a parchment into the cornerstone: a personal note to future administrators urging them to "question numbers, question motives, question even these principles—for stagnation begins when questioning ends."

The stone set, mortar hardened, and the Institute of Governance took its place beside the Innovation Bureau and Medical Collegium—pillars of a society learning to improve itself on purpose, not by accident