Coda

John Ismay’s House, Kinspit
 
Hardacre was tidying away the shoes in the hall when the letters came. It had been an unusually wet February and there had been a succession of visitors with muddy boots that had traipsed in and out of the house.  There had been many meetings in the house and far too many people to cater for and accommodate.  At the end of it, though, they had finally been able to say goodbye to Owen, who had patched everything up as best he could, and was eager to get home.  Celia had gone to recuperate in Neman; she had been very quiet after her confrontation with Kratos. She was physically and emotionally exhausted.
The sharp rap at the door had been very formal and the messenger was clearly a member of the (extremely small) Amanskian consulate. The official insisted that he would only give the letter that he carried personally to Mr Ismay and so there had been a long wait while he was found. Hardacre found a chair for the messenger to sit on, but placed it in the hall as close to the front door as possible, just on a point of principle. He did, however, make him several cups of tea.  
Eventually his master was found, Hardacre tipped the messenger generously for his trouble and then John took the letter into the study. Hardacre followed him.
John dropped the letter down onto his desk and then sat down in his arm chair.
‘I wonder why the Praefectus is writing to me, again?’ he asked. Hardacre said nothing. .
He signalled to Hardacre that he should open the letter and read it out to him.
‘It’s not from Lord Arnon, sir’ said Hardacre, warily, ‘it’s from Princess Lily’
‘Really’ said John, grinning, ‘that’s a lot more interesting’
Hardacre sighed softly and began to read out the letter.    
 
Dear Councillor Ismay,
My father wanted me to write you a letter to apologise for the trouble that I have given to you and all your colleagues (particularly Mr Hardacre). I fully realise the extraordinary danger that I have put myself in. In addition, I apologise unreservedly for any inappropriate or unladylike behaviour during the time in your company and in the company of your esteemed colleagues, particularly Mr Hardacre, who saved my life on several occasions.
I cannot conceive of what might have made me behave in the way that I did and of course no explanation can in any way defend my extraordinary actions.
 
‘I don’t think Lily actually wrote this…’ laughed John, ‘I think that’s more Victoria’s style’
‘Sir…’ exclaimed Hardacre, sternly, ‘may I continue? The day is dragging on…’
He didn’t wait for his master to answer.
 
In addition, I know that I put the lives of others at risk and imperilled many deep stratagems. I can only state again that I am truly sorry for my actions and hope that you find some room in your heart to discover some forgiveness for me.    
Yours most sincerely and humbly,
Princess Lily of Amansk
 
 Hardacre read the letter out and then turned the envelope upside down and shook it. A slip of paper fell out on to the table.
Hardacre read out this second message, with an ostentatious display of reluctance.
Hello John,
I was able to slip this in at the last moment when my father wasn’t looking. I want more than anything else to be a witch, like you and Celia and Laurence and Kathleen. I’m sixteen now and so old enough to be an apprentice (as a plumber or a builder or something like that) so why can’t I be an apprentice witch, like we pretended that I was when we fought the sky monsters? Of course, my father wouldn’t approve so I’d have to run away and so on, but I’m willing to do that if someone would teach me. I was thinking that I wanted to be a mage, but being a witch seems a lot more exciting.
Can you send me a secret letter back telling me what to do? Please!
Lots of Love,
Lil
 
John smiled broadly as Hardacre put down the letter.
‘You’ve got to admire her spirit, eh, Laurence?’
Hardacre frowned slightly. He remembered all of the trouble that the young woman had caused him.
‘She’s wonderful, sir, I’m sure, but, if I may venture an opinion, I think that perhaps she is a little bit unpredictable’
 John looked disappointed.
‘Well, I suppose so, if you’re being entirely logical…’
‘And we can’t possibly countenance advising a princess of a sovereign state to abscond…’
John’s face had turned sour. He shook his head, mildly aggrieved.
‘Did I say that we should?’ he snapped, ‘I was just saying that she had spirit’
‘Good, sir. I’m sorry if momentarily I worried that you might be about to do something questionably sensible…’
Hardacre began to tidy the envelope away, along with some other discarded correspondence. John half-heartedly moved forward to help him.    
‘But’ said John, ‘you can’t deny that she would probably make a better witch than a princess’
Hardacre held the papers in his hand and looked towards the door, nodding to indicate that he would like to leave the room, not that he agreed with John’s last remark.  
‘I don’t think that question is a very helpful one, sir. I think it is entirely hypothetical and I hope that its potentiation will never occur’
John said nothing more.  A slow smile was returning to his face.
‘Umm, shall I destroy the letters now, sir, or would you like me to archive them?’
 ‘You can destroy them, but perhaps make a note of their contents for the record’
‘Of course, sir, as always’
Hardacre bundled up the letters with the envelopes and prepared to take them to the boiler room, where he could incinerate them. He waited for a second, though, looking thoughtfully at his master.
‘Thank you, Laurence, I appreciate your help’
Hardacre nodded.
‘And the note from Princess Lily that you have put in your pocket, sir, can I assume that that is to be archived?’
John’s smile disappeared again.
‘I think that counts as a private letter, Laurence, and I think that I’ll keep it. I am very fond of Lily, and I’d very much like to see her happy’
Hardacre’s look hardened. He shook his head.
‘That’s not our business, sir, and any attempt to make a wilful princess of an alien power happy is likely to end badly, I would say...’
John stomped out of the room muttering, ‘I know, I know…’
That seemed to be the end of the conversation, but Hardacre hoped that common sense would prevail. Everyone had to do some jobs that they didn’t like and, as importantly, what on earth did Mr Ismay know about what might make a sixteen year old girl happy? Hardacre was fairly sure that Lily was the only young adult, of either sex, that John knew.
Hardacre waited for a moment, to give John enough time to get away from where he would be walking, and then he made his way to the side door next to the kitchen. He opened the door and stepped outside. The sun was watery but it was surprisingly balmy – it seemed that spring was just around the corner. He must make time to attend to the garden; it was looking rather neglected.  Maybe there would be a period of quiet now? It seemed unlikely, but who could tell? Two weeks in the garden would transform it.
The boiler room stood in a little hut just outside the kitchen. An impressive array of pipes grew from it to provide hot water to all parts of the house. He unlatched the wooden door and stepped inside. He never liked to stay here too long – it was uncomfortably hot.  He put on a pair of sturdy gloves and then slid back the plate that gave access to the furnace.  He dropped the letters and envelopes into the fire.
He watched until the letters burnt up into ash and then he finally returned to the kitchen. Supper was going to be very late. He took off his gloves, lifted a saucepan from its shelf, filled it with water, and put it on the stove.  

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