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Carved Into the Firewall The Ten Royal Decrees

Ten laws, subject. Not eleven, whatever the Chancellor proposes at the spring council. They have not been amended since the dawn of the third epoch, chiefly because they have not needed to be.

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The court is asked, more often than it would like, for the short version. Very well. Everything this kingdom knows is beneath. The chronicles exist to make it memorable; the decrees exist to make it true.

They are the only matter on which both crowns agree. The Pretender derived them from the traffic, unprompted, and arrived at the same ten in the same order. It would enforce them by cutting off anyone who failed. The King prefers education, and a horse.

Isometric map of the King of Cybersecurity's castle: the throne room, the library of the learned, Staple's chamber, Gateway's tower, the gallery of goose portraits, the golem scribe's cell, the exiled fridge and kettle in their quarters, Sir Reginald in the courtyard, and the glowing red threat ledger wall — The royal security architecture, in depth. Staple's chamber, Gateway's tower, the goose gallery, the golem's cell, the fridge in exile. Commissioned so the court would know, once and for all, where everything is. Classified immediately, for the same reason. The treasury is not on this map. The map insists.

Thou shalt not reuse thy password across kingdoms.And no, adding an exclamation mark does not make it new. Staple the royal horse has rejected "Dragon2019!" eleven times this month. He is not tired. He is disappointed.
Honour thy updates, and install them promptly."Remind me tomorrow" is how the Idiot Admin snoozed his way into legend. Four hundred tomorrows, subject. Four hundred.
Thou shalt not click the link, though it promise riches.No prince is emailing you. Not even this one. The King communicates exclusively by decree and disappointed silence.
Keep holy thy backups, and test them.Somewhere a green tick has been lying to a good man since 2022. Do not be the good man.
Enable the second factor, that the thief may weep at thy gate.It costs the thief your password. Let it cost him his dreams as well.
Covet not thy neighbour's open wifi.Free networks are free the way cheese in a trap is free. The mouse also thought he was saving money.
Confess not thy secrets to the machine oracle.It remembers more than it admits and cannot count the letters in "strawberry". The Fool keeps a list of its wisdom. The list is read aloud at feasts.
Grant not the keys of thy cloud unto every passing clerk.The intern of three summers past can still delete the treasury. He does not know this. The brigands will introduce themselves. Review who holds what, and revoke as thou goest.
Grant least privilege, even unto thyself.The admin account is a crown. Wear it at court, not down the Open Port, and take it off before touching the printer.
Fear not the apocalypse; prepare for it.The prepared shall inherit the uptime. The court, for its part, maintains forty combat pigeons. Sleep soundly, subject. Gateway watches the skies.

Follow all ten and you will not be safe, subject. You will merely be a great deal more trouble than your neighbour, and the brigands, who are busy people, will visit him instead. This is the entire trade. Nobody has ever been sold a better one.

The court has issued free posters for those who wish to nail the decrees to a noticeboard, and chronicles for those who would rather learn them by watching a court get them wrong.