The court assembled for audience as scheduled.
This was noted because it was still, technically, something that could fail.
King Mohg the Fourth did not take the throne. No one suggested that he should. A cushion had been placed on the floor—no record exists of who placed it there—and the king sat upon it with evident comfort. The court arranged itself accordingly. Some stood. Some sat. One leaned, briefly, until corrected by gravity.
Proceedings began.
Pebble identified a broom of questionable intent almost immediately.
The broom had been left against a column, bristles outward, as if waiting. Pebble approached it with caution, then suspicion, then resolve. She seized it and dragged it several lengths across the hall. The maid protested. Pebble persisted. The broom was defeated and lay in two pieces, neither of which appeared repentant.
No formal objection was raised.
A chair was moved to improve sightlines. Someone sat where they pleased. Someone else took notes from the steps, paused, reconsidered, and continued writing from the floor. A scroll was passed hand to hand without ceremony and returned upside down. This was corrected.
The king listened.
Pebble wrestled.
The court adjusted.
A petition was heard. It was granted. Another was amended after Pebble rolled across it, flattening a corner. This was deemed acceptable. A third was withdrawn when its presenter forgot why they had stood up.
The scribe recorded events as they occurred.
This was reassuring.
There had been a time—recent enough to remember—when such activity would have caused alarm. Bells would have rung. Chairs would have been righted. Someone would have cleared their throat with authority. Today, the absence of intervention felt correct. Familiar. Kind.
The scribe paused, briefly, quill hovering.
Nothing required clarification.
The king asked a question. An answer was provided. Pebble emerged from beneath the remnants of the broom, triumphant and dusty, and lay down. The maid sighed, then sat beside her.
No one was dismissed.
When the audience concluded, it did so naturally. Conversations ended where they were meant to. The hall emptied without instruction. The cushion remained. The broom did not.
The proceedings were chaotic, per usual. Everything was as it should be.
The scribe reviewed the page once, then signed it.
No marginal notes were added.