The funeral was held out in the Akaadian countryside, where the old man had been enjoying his retirement. Vibrant green fields and rolling hills had been aggressively preserved, forcing the industrial base of the Imperium to live elsewhere. The lakes and the dells of the pastoral locale were pristine and widely beloved by all the citizens of the planet. Daniel was usually just like them, and he had loved playing in the fields and rivers of his countryside home while growing up. Now, however, they just made him a little gloomy as he stared out the window of the Line train taking him back home. There was something particularly saddening about a clear blue sky and happily chirping birds when you couldn’t shake a bad mood. Like the whole of nature hadn’t gotten the memo that things had truly gone wrong.

Daniel walked off the Line stop and toward the funeral parlor at the edge of town. The towns in the countryside were as anachronistic as they came in the whole of the Empire. Wooden and brick buildings were the norm here, the streets lined with old wrought iron lampposts, all to create an aesthetic reminiscent of the age when the steam engine was first invented. Most of the rest of the Imperium had adopted concrete-and-glass facades and neon signs for even their smallest settlements long ago. There were always tourists in these little towns, gawking at the reminders of a much simpler age. One of the earlier Emperors had set the building and environmental codes to preserve the countryside as it was, thanks to his particular tastes, and none of his successors had bothered to reverse the dictates. The result was a sight unique throughout the known galaxy.

Men and women in formal attire nodded at Daniel as he walked down the main avenue, most of them recognizing “the Hardgrave boy”. He was told by several of the townsfolk that they were “sorry for his loss” and that they were willing to “help him with anything”. Most of them didn’t really mean that last bit, but he was grateful and a little nostalgic for the politeness they showed him. They were a stark contrast to the people of Ankara, and Daniel smiled and thanked each of them for their kind words.

The funeral house was a small yet stately place, a dark brown building with a flat white roof. Two white marble columns flanked a blackwood door with a gold handle/hinges. Inside was oakwood paneling and soft leather furniture, navy curtains and ticking antique clocks. Daniel felt a little self-conscious as he wandered into the atrium and was ushered into the room where they were having the wake. It was mostly a bunch of older folks milling about in a lavishly decorated living room, and Daniel recognized almost everyone as friends of the old man from town. Some of them swarmed him when he walked in, talking about how sad it was to lose Roger and how they would be here for him if he needed them. Daniel made polite conversation and reassured them that he would be okay. They eventually released him, allowing him to look around the room more thoroughly.

The first people who caught his eye were the two strangers in the corner. Standing up straight in a dark black dress was a rather tall, regal looking woman with sharp features, raven colored hair, and intelligent sky-blue eyes. She appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties, but the few wrinkles that had begun to form around her eyes and mouth only served to enhance her beauty. Curiously, her hair was covered in an old fashioned, translucent grey veil that gave the lady a demure aura. Her lips were embossed with cherry red lipstick that popped in contrast to the muted colors of the rest of her outfit.

Shifting at the ladies’ side was a young girl, no more than eleven years old. She shared the Stygian black hair, translucent veil, and crimson lipstick of her guardian, but her eyes were the dark grey of a stormy sky and her dress was a deep-sea blue. Rosy cheeks and shy eyes worked together to paint a picture of youthful innocence and uncertainty, but she would clearly become a great beauty one day. Nevertheless, there was something quite sad about the girl today. Curious, Daniel walked over to introduce himself, but the ladies beat him to the punch.

As he walked over, reflexively smoothing out his hair, the older woman dropped into a curtsy with perfect form, the younger girl hurrying to mimic her. Taking the lead, the noble, older woman spoke in a pleasant, cultured voice with a slight accent:

“Greetings, young man. I am Marie Rochambeau, longtime confidant of the Hardgrave family.”

Daniel gave a slight bow in response:

“Hello there. My name’s Daniel. Daniel Hardgrave.”

The shadow of confusion flashed across the older lady’s face:

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Apologies, did you say your name was Hardgrave? If it’s not too sensitive, may I ask, what was your relationship with the deceased?”

“He was my grandfather.”

Daniel replied, raising an eyebrow in surprise at her confusion. Now both ladies looked thrown off, and they exchanged looks. Finally, the younger girl stepped forward. In a soft, reserved tone, doe eyes looking up at the young man in shock, she said:

“My name is Lucille. Lucille Hardgrave. But I go by Lucy, normally. Roger Hardgrave was my grandfather as well.”

She blushed a little, then stepped back, letting Marie continue the conversation. Now it was Daniel’s turn to be confused, but he covered it up with a dry grin as he caught the older woman’s eyes:

“Looks like we need to compare notes.”

…

“I never knew the old man had a kid! He never mentioned him!”

Daniel exclaimed in a muted, yet energetic tone, exasperated at his adopted grandfather’s stinginess with information:

“Master Hardgrave was estranged from his son. He tasked my mother with taking care of Master Jonathan, a duty that was passed down to me when she died. I was in contact with Master Hardgrave until the end, but he never mentioned taking in an adoptive grandson.”

Daniel was looking around now in more confusion:

“If Mr. Jonathan was Grandpa Hardgrave’s kid, where is he now?”

“…Apologies, I didn’t make things clear. Master Jonathan and Mistress Samantha passed away in an accident just a few weeks ago. It was a week before Master Hargrave’s own passing. Their deaths hit the good Master hard.”

The grim news settled over the trio in a solemn silence. Lucy didn’t look teary eyed. she just seemed melancholic, staring off into the distance with a vacant and wistful look. The sight speared into Daniel’s heart, and he coughed apologetically:

“Sorry, miss. I should’ve been more sensitive.”

Lucy snapped out of her melancholy when she realized Daniel was talking to her, and she waved her hands delicately in denial:

“No, no, you’re fine. Loosing Mommy and Daddy has been hard, but I’ll be just fine.”

She gave him a bright smile, but the whole image looked more fragile than the thinnest glass. Daniel felt his heart break all over again as he looked at her, but he held onto a serious and calming façade. No use causing the girl more trouble. Still, a temporary tactical retreat was in order. He nodded in response:

“Well, if you ever need anything, just ask.”

He was glad to find that he meant that, and both women seemed to sense as much. They said some temporary goodbyes and Daniel strode away to collect himself. As he did, he spotted the only other unfamiliar face in the room. Sitting in a leather chair by the empty hearth was a bald old man, in his late 70s, with strong, broad shoulders and a sheer white goatee. He was dressed in a military uniform, the star decorations indicating the rank of Lieutenant, and Daniel found himself wondering where Roger had gotten a military friend. An old drinking buddy, maybe? The military man surveyed the room with a gruff, piercing gaze, sharp black eyes like little obsidian marbles that jumped confidently from person to person. They had settled on Daniel, and he met the old man’s stern gaze with as much confidence as he could muster. Those dark orbs probed the depths of his soul, however, and he found himself unable to meet them for very long. When he looked back, he saw the soldier gesturing at him to come forward. Daniel nodded and did so.

The military man gestured for Daniel to take the seat across from him, and Hardgrave noticed that the man was sipping a clear, saffron-colored liquid from an elaborately sculpted glass. He set the glass on a mahogany table, picking up an empty one and a decanter from the same table. The Lieutenant grunted at Daniel in a low, hoarse voice:

“Want a drink?”

Technically, the drinking age in the Imperium was 18, but Daniel obviously nodded in acceptance even as the old man was already pouring. Those laws were rarely enforced, and surveillance was lighter in the countryside anyways. The old man poured him a generous portion, and they sat there for a few minutes, nursing their drinks in silence. The old man was the first to break it:

“How’d you know old Fairweather?”

“Fairweather?”

“Aye. Roger liked to sail, didn’t he? Talked about the weather and sailing so much, we liked to call him Fairweather. Though, he kept trying to get us to call him ‘Kingslayer’ instead.”

The old man chuckled as Daniel’s perplexity only grew, but he decided to answer the question first:

“He was my adoptive grandfather.”

“Grandfather! And adoptive nonetheless, so he went out of his way to have you. I never would have pegged old Fairweather for a family man. I’m Freeway, by the way. Lieutenant Augustus Freeway. You may call me Lieutenant Freeway or just Lieutenant.”

They shook hands and Daniel introduced himself. It was Daniel’s turn for a question, though he was a little afraid of the answer:

“How did you know Roger, Lieutenant Freeway?”

The old man raised his eyebrows before responding:

“I knew him from our days in the Fed! Captain Roger was one of the toughest Pioneers I’ve ever known.”