In The Well of Ascension, the second Mistborn novel, new king Elend Venture is visited by Tindwyl, a woman who has studied biographies of great leaders throughout history and has been asked to assist the king in commanding the respect of his subjects. Tindwyl gets to work immediately and bluntly. I found the advice she gives Elend to be genuinely helpful, and I’ve reproduced it here for my own reference.
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Elend stood uncomfortably as the tall woman walked around the table in a slow circle, studying him as a merchant might inspect a piece of furniture up for auction. Finally she stopped, placing her hands on her hips.
“Stand up straight,” she commanded.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re slouching,” the woman said. “A king must maintain an air of dignity at all times, even when with his friends.”
Elend frowned. “Now, while I appreciate advice, I don’t—”
“No,” the woman said. “Don’t hedge. Command.”
“Excuse me?” Elend said again. The woman stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and pressing his back firmly to improve his posture. She stepped back, then nodded slightly to herself.
“Now, see,” Elend said. “I don’t—“
“No,” the woman interrupted. “You must be stronger in the way that you speak. Presentation—words, actions, postures—will determine how people judge you and react to you. If you start every sentence with softness and uncertainty, you will seem soft and uncertain. Be forceful!”
“What is going on here?” Elend demanded, exasperated.
“There,” the woman said. “Finally.”
“You said that you know Sazed?” Elend asked, resisting the urge to slouch back into his earlier posture.
“He is an acquaintance,” the woman said. “My name is Tindwyl; I am, as you have guessed, a Keeper of Terris.” She tapped her foot for a moment, then shook her head. “Sazed warned me about your slovenly appearance, but I honestly assumed that no king could have such a poor sense of self-presentation.”
“Slovenly?” Elend asked. “Excuse me?”
“Stop saying that,” Tindwyl snapped. “Don’t ask questions; say what you mean. If you object, object—don’t leave your words up to my interpretation.”
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“You have good ideas, Elend Venture,” Tindwyl said. “Regal ideas. However, you are not a king. A man can only lead when others accept him as their leader, and he has only as much authority as his subjects give to him. All of the brilliant ideas in the world cannot save your kingdom if no one will listen to them.”
Elend turned. "This last year I’ve read every pertinent book on leadership and governance in the four libraries.”
Tindwyl raised an eyebrow. "Then, I suspect that you spent a great deal of time in your room that you should have been out, being seen by your people and learning to be a ruler.”
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“Don’t argue with me.”
“But, see, the other day you said that—“
“Kings don’t argue, Elend Venture,” Tindwyl said firmly. “They command. And, part of your ability to command comes from your bearing. Slovenly clothing invites other slovenly habits—such as your posture, which I’ve already mentioned, I believe.”
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“Is that all it is, then?” Elend asked. “Expressions and costumes? Is that what makes a king?”
“Of course not.”
Elend stopped by the door, turning back. “Then, what does? What do you think makes a man a good king, Tindwyl of Terris?”
“Trust,” Tindwyl said, looking him in the eyes. “A good king is one who is trusted by his people—and one who deserves that trust.”
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“Surely you noticed how well I did,” Elend said. “I got them to let me go into Straff’s camp.”
“You are king, Elend Venture,” Tindwyl said, arms folded. “Nobody ‘lets’ you do anything. The first change in attitude has to be your own—you have to stop thinking that you need permission or agreement from those who follow you.”
“A king should lead by consent of his citizens,” Elend said. “I will not be another Lord Ruler.”
“A king should be strong,” Tindwyl said firmly. “He accepts counsel, but only when he asks for it. He makes it clear that the final decision is his, not his counselors’. You need better control over your advisors. If they don’t respect you, then your enemies won’t either—and the masses never will.”
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“Very well, Your Majesty. You can unclench your fists now. You’re going to have to work on that—a statesman should not give visual clues of his nervousness.”
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“Don’t apologize unless you really mean it,” Tindwyl said. “And don’t make excuses. You don’t need them. A leader is often judged by how well he bears responsibility. As king, everything that happens in your kingdom — regardless of who commits the act—is your fault. You are even responsible for unavoidable events such as earthquakes or storms… It is your responsibility to deal with these things, and if something goes wrong, it is your fault. You simply have to accept this… Guilt,” Tindwyl said, “does not become a king. You have to stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
“You just told me everything that happens in the kingdom is my fault!”
“It is.”
“How can I not feel guilty, then?”
“You have to feel confident that your actions are the best,” Tindwyl explained. “You have to know that no matter how bad things get, they would be worse without you. When disaster occurs, you take responsibility, but you don’t wallow or mope. You aren’t allowed that luxury; guilt is for lesser men. You simply need to do what is expected.”
“And that is?”
“To make everything better.”
“Great,” Elend said flatly. “And if I fail?”
“Then you accept responsibility, and make everything better on the second try.” Elend rolled his eyes.
“And what if I can’t ever make things better? What if I’m really not the best man to be king?”
“Then you remove yourself from the position,” Tindwyl said.
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“Arrogance, Your Majesty,” Tindwyl said. “Successful leaders all share one common trait—they believe that they can do a better job than the alternatives. Humility is fine when considering your responsibility and duty, but when it comes time to make a decision, you must not question yourself.”
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Elend held up a hand. “Enough,” he said. ‘This line of discussion is useless.” Breeze snorted, but fell silent. Tindwyl is right, Elend thought. They will listen to me if I act like I expect them to.
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“Why are you being so nice to me?” Vin demanded quietly.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Tindwyl asked.
“Because you’re mean to Elend,” Vin said. “Don’t deny it—I’ve listened in on your lessons. You spend the time insulting and disparaging him. But now you’re pretending to be nice.”
Tindwyl smiled. “I am not pretending, child.”
“Then why are you so mean to Elend?”
“The lad grew up as a pampered son of a great lord,” Tindwyl said. “Now that he’s king, he needs a little harsh truth, I think.” She paused, glancing down at Vin. “I sense that you’ve had quite enough of that in your life.”
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“You just told me you liked me how I am.”
“I do,” Elend said. “But I’d like you however you were, Vin. I love you. The question is, how do you like yourself?” That gave her pause.
“Clothing doesn’t really change a man,” Elend said. “But it changes how others react to him. Tindwyl’s words. I think … I think the trick is convincing yourself that you deserve the reactions you get. You can wear the court’s dresses, Vin, but make them your own. Don’t worry that you aren’t giving people what they want. Give them who you are, and let that be enough.” He paused, smiling. “It was for me.”
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“I apologize for treating you with disrespect, Your Majesty,” she said. Elend frowned. Wasn’t expecting that. “I have a habit of treating people like children,” Tindwyl said. “It is not something that I should be proud of, I think.”
“It’s—” Elend paused. Tindwyl had taught him never to excuse people’s failings. He could accept people with failings—even forgive them—but if he glossed over the problems, then they would never change. “I accept your apology,” he said.
“You’ve learned quickly, Your Majesty.”
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“... I still do not believe that your duty is to do as the people wish. Your duty is to lead as best you can, following the dictates of your conscience. You must be true, Your Majesty, to the man you wish to become. If that man is not whom the people wish to have lead them, then they will choose someone else.” …Sazed’s words were really just a rephrasing of things Tindwyl had said about trusting oneself, but Sazed’s explanation seemed a better one. A more honest one.
