Perhaps you were elected or appointed, were born to the right parents, or simply gave yourself the job. In any case, congratulations.

Just as there are different kinds of monarchies, so are there different styles of websites that represent them. If not for the tiaras and clusters of medals, one would think photogenic philanthropists and socialites comprise the monarchies of Denmark and Norway.

These sites give this visitor (granted, this citizen of a country that hasn’t answered to a king in 232 years) the impression of the classic benevolent and mostly figurehead king and queen: Each site has a history of the monarchy, lush photos of the palaces, a sprinkling of news and events, and—in the case of the Danish monarchy—a 200-word press release about a wedding cake.

On the other white-gloved hand, the website of the Swedish royal court boasts the obligatory tiara-and-medals-sporting folks, but there’s a lot more information on the homepage, and the layout and design make the monarchy look like a smoothly running conglomerate.

Some other constitutional monarchies, like Morocco’s, have a smaller Web presence, such as a section within the country’s governmental website. Not properly maintaining this section could possibly cause alarm: Residents of Lesotho, upon seeing “Website Not Available” on the monarchy’s homepage, might wonder whether they were in the midst of a forced regime change before confirming that the link to, as well as the reign of, His Majesty King Letsie III was still active.

The most famous extant monarchy, that of the United Kingdom, sets the gold standard for royal online kingdoms. We should probably say purple standard, because this regal color dominates the website. The homepage displays that almost paradoxical combination of modesty and opulence for which members of the Windsor family, with a few notable exceptions, are known: The most dominant image on the page is not Queen Elizabeth, but the Imperial State Crown.

Without even firing up any of the interior pages, the site is already a winner just based on the homepage, which is organized as well as one would expect of a “proper” brand: A balance of images, text, and links avoids bombarding the visitor with too much of any one element.

A narrow navigation banner across the very top contains the most important links. Beneath this, for about one-third of the page, are images. The title of the monarchy (i.e., the brand) is in a large, all-caps font across almost the center of the page. Beneath the title is a brief description of not only what the monarchy is but also the purpose of the site.

Below this text are news highlights, a list of “quick links,” and a lower-page navigation banner. Links on this lower banner allow you to view portions of the site in Cymraeg (Welsh) and Gàidhlig (Scottish Gaelic), as well as in (God save the Queen!) a text-only format.

The site contains more pages than there are former British Colonies in the Americas (over 250 links dot the site map alone), but order is maintained through various navigation bars, including one on the left side of the page that helpfully follows you if you scroll below the fold, and an occasional section at the bottom of some pages called Have You Seen... that directs you to related material.

Many longtime brands have endured its share of missteps, from New Coke to stuff even less palatable. To its credit—or because much of the kingdom’s history is already well documented—the site doesn’t whitewash the history of some of its more notorious leaders, noting that Henry VIII “got rid of” Anne Boleyn for reasons “almost certainly false.” But the section on the late Princess Diana makes no mention of her clashes with the Royal Family—though one could argue whether that should be on the site at all—and for the official Crown reaction to the Sex Pistols’ “God Save the Queen,” you’ll have to look elsewhere.

Not surprisingly, the weakest area of the site is the kids’ section, which appears to be created by someone whose childhood took place during the glory days of George VI. You can tell it’s for children because the title of the page is in a lowercase font that is likely Comic Sans. The painting activities are a bit dull, and only stuffy Brits would have a page for kids called “history homework.”

The sun has long set on the British Empire, but Britain isn’t in danger of returning to the era of the Protectorate: Queen Elizabeth is among the wealthiest people in the world, even before you factor in the property owned by the Crown, including (according to a 1324 statute) all “sturgeons, whales, and dolphins in the waters around the UK.” She is also, if not especially relevant in her country’s political affairs, generally well regarded by her subjects overall. (I welcome any corrections to that last statement from my friends from across the pond.) So it comes as no surprise that the monarchy’s website is not only princely, but also practical.