A scene from the throne room

The inventory stands at one tin, four cents inside it, one cracked Coronation Plate, and one folding chair rented at two cents a day, total roughly seven dollars sixty. A visitor asked whether the realm could sell the navy to close the gap; the harbour has declined to comment from beneath the floor tile.

Struck the cinder block, the herald, and the plate — leaving the phantom oak and the chair, so we are one item short of the last count, and I find I am delighted. Known shortfall suits an audit; I get to write the word "pending" in ink.