Lady Rey Kenobi's eyes searched the letter she clutched tightly in her hands, the sides getting more and more crumpled as she re-read and re-read. One line she knew would be forever engrained upon her memory.
… that I regret to inform you your father has died.
…your father has died.
He's dead.
The damned letter gave no further explanation. No inkling to his demise, it was here the letter ended with an enraging,
I shall be visiting you in England soon to discuss the will.
Sincerely,
Mr Kylo Ren

Was it illness, disease, an accident, or even the most gruesome of all, murder? Lady Kenobi felt only hatred for her father's heartless lawyer, this so called Kylo Ren. It didn't enter her mind of course that he perhaps knew nothing of their estranged relationship. It is very likely this Mr Ren had never heard the damned sorry tale. How his client Lord Sylvester Kenobi's much loved wife died while giving birth to their greatly wanted daughter. They had tried and tried for ten years to conceive, the joyous day they had been waiting for almost a decade had come. Their daughter Lady Rey Kenobi, all big hazel eyes, chubby fingers and rosy cheeks, topped off with a tuft of chestnut brown hair. The day of her birth the once cheerful and carefree Lord Kenobi had turned to the bottle, within the week he left for the colonies. She'd waited for him to return ever since.

Now of course it was the end. He was dead. She felt cheated and defeated. The answers she had wanted for so long would never be hers. No one could tell her what she needed to hear. Her father was gone. And so we're her hopes.

It hadn't quite sunk in but the letter fell from her eyes, still clutched and rumpling in her grip. Lady Rey felt hollow, empty, nothing but a void. Her uncle found her this way long after the candles had died out and dinner had turned cold. He placed a hand on her shoulder and then the empty void let out its first sob in nineteen years.

Rey wiped away the tears that made her whole face glisten within seconds and turned to her uncle Mr Andrew Kenobi. Although the tears conveyed her distress, her voice sounded hollow when she spoke all her uncle had already guessed "He's dead. My father, your brother, that's it, gone." Her uncle lifted his hand to pat her back.

Mr Andrew, or now Lord Andrew Kenobi, was a quiet man but uncommonly kind; in all her life Rey could not remember him saying more than twenty words a month. Most days she never saw him at all, except for dinner, they shared a happy silence. His quiet nature had never annoyed Rey, this was who he was and she accepted him. He kept to his study and she kept mostly to the stables and the surrounding grounds. She knew he missed his brother, on several occasions she had wondered why he did not try to find out his whereabouts. Rey never let herself dwell on why she did question him on the subject, she was scared in truth. What if he too left her in this barren land and never came back? She'd have to find another wall to start scratching all the days her uncle was gone too if it came to it.

Lady Rey sobbed in her hands for what felt like a lifetime, her uncle said not a word as he patted her silently on the back, rubbing circles now and again. It was pitch black in Rey's room by the time he finally spoke. Rey was startled into stillness when she heard her uncle clear his throat. "I-I-I'm sorry Rey"

She smiled sadly up at him through clouded eyes, although he could barely see it. Andrew Kenobi was as average a man as ever lived. He was neither tall nor short nor fat nor thin. His neither short nor long hair was mousey brown in hue and his eyes were indescribable also, each light gave them an entirely different cast. He always wore muted colours, a brown coat which had become lighter with age or a navy great coat for riding in his carriage to the church on Sunday. He was showing signs of his age, especially around his temples where he had begun to go grey. Lady Rey did not know her uncles age but she respected he must have been nearing five and forty.

Rey placed her hand on top of his, "I am too, he was your brother and I know how much you missed him."

She could see her uncle's eyes glistening with escaping tears in the glow of the moon light, but as always they looked incredibly kind. The sight of emotion in her otherwise reserved uncle made her heartbreak even more; she knew he felt similarly to her. "What are we to do now?" she asked.

Her uncle looked away from her for a moment and removed his hand from her shoulder, he stood straight and composed himself almost like he was about to give a speech "I have always wished to- that is, I know you have been waiting for your father to come back so I-I did not dream of mentioning it before, but I would very much like for you to go to London."

Rey did not know what she had expected him to say but she had never let herself consider leaving home. That was before the reason for her staying had been snatched away from her, of course.

"London?" she knitted her eye brows together in thought, "I suppose there is no reason for us to stay now, now he is really not ever to return to us."

Her uncle gave no more response than a nod.

"We should leave as soon as we are able; I have no inkling as to what we should pack." Rey chewed on her bottom lip as she pondered. This was something she had done since childhood and her uncle thought it always made her look no older than three again.

"I confess it has been quite some time since I visited town but I think I should be able to make arrangements for us to leave within the week." The new Lord Kenobi made to leave her room.

"Thank you uncle, and I am so very sorry." she wiped the remainder of her tears and smiled again at the kind man who was all she had left. She suspected they'd only had each other from the moment her mother had died. She was and knew she would forever be thankful she had her dear sweet silent guardian.

He paused closing the door, "I too am sorry, now rest Rey. Goodnight."