He was King. Not by birthright. Not by succession or election. But because he had worked for it, fought for it, scraped and kicked and gouged and won battle after battle as he ascended to the top, to the throne. And there he sat, surveying his dominion, King of all he could see.
For the next fifteen minutes or so, anyway, until recess was over.
Then he would have to earn it all over again the next time his class raced out to the play structure.
He was looking forward to it.
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The Matticus Kingdom 
i’ve known such kings on my days on the playground. their power never lasts –
Nope. And that’s okay.
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