The King’s audiences with his people always started at the second bell.  Every day, as sure as the sun’s rising, he would enter the hall in robes of state, mount the dais, and sit upon the throne to judge the everyday matters of the people.  It was an old custom that had largely been dropped during the latter days of the (eminently practical) Stewards, but the new King had brought it back in full force for matters that concerned just the White City.

Heledir was glad of this, because it meant that someone important and not just some lower judiciary could listen to his problems.  Of course, he was not the kind to abuse his citizen’s privilege and stop by every day; but he was fairly certain that this particular problem warranted some royal attention.  After all, his fellow merchants had had issues with panhandlers outside their businesses, and if he could get the King’s eye drawn to the problem perhaps it would go away.  True, begging was perfectly legal in Minas Tirith, but his complaint was not with beggars in general, but with this one, who had taken nest right outside his shop.  There had to be a decree against it, and if it was rarely enforced?  Well, the kingship itself was a thing of the past, and he highly doubted Elessar would easily go against the old laws.

His plan was perfect, too perfect.  He had caught the child just as his apprentice was opening shop and arrived an hour early so that there would be no doubt his case would be heard.  Yet the second bell had rung a full quarter of an hour ago, and there was no King forthcoming, only a message delivered from the lips of a servant that he would be slightly delayed.  It went against everything he had heard and seen of the King.  Where could he be?