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Merletta stared at him, fascinated. “Is that common practice in Hemssted?” she asked.
Oliver nodded, his lip curling slightly. “I thought everyone would know that.”
“The rest of the triple kingdoms aren’t as obsessed with Hemssted’s so-called influence as you are,” Andre said tartly.
But Merletta didn’t care about Oliver’s arrogance. She was too engrossed in thinking through the implications of his words. It seemed like confirmation that her parents really did come from Hemssted, if the names on the record had been accurate. Was that why their names both started with El? And applying the logic about the way naming worked, did that mean her mother’s name had first been Merminia?
Merletta was unprepared for the sudden rush of emotion that came over her. It was foolish, perhaps, to react so strongly to a simple explanation of naming customs. But it conjured up an image of two merpeople trying to decide what to name their baby, a baby who they might have wanted, and been excited to meet.
“I need to speak to Emil,” she muttered, pushing herself up from her seat. If Emil was going to search the census records on her behalf, this information would be useful.
Sage sent her an inscrutable look as she rose, but there was no privacy for Merletta to explain herself. It wasn’t until she was halfway across the room that she remembered the interrupted conversation she’d been having with Sage.
A glance back over her shoulder showed the other mermaid already leaving the dining hall, not even glancing back.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Founders’ Day arrived with the usual fanfare, but Merletta couldn’t bring herself to care about any of it. Not only was she still living under a shadow as she waited for the repercussions of her display in Tilssted, but she was filled with nervous excitement over Emil’s planned investigations.
Would he find out who she was? Who she’d been born, at least. And did she want to know? She’d heard how it worked in Skulssted, and she knew Hemssted would be no different. If she’d been abandoned to an impoverished charity home, it meant no one in her parents’ circle had wanted her after their death. No one had even come looking for her, or tried to tell her about her parents. Did she want to learn the identity of a community that had rejected her so brutally?
A less logical, but no less pervasive, thought lingered behind all of that. What if her parents hadn’t abandoned her unwillingly by death? What if they’d given her up because they didn’t want her? Because something had been wrong with her from the very start, just like they’d always told her at the charity home?
Merletta tried to shake these morbid thoughts, but she was certainly far from any festive mood. Her stomach was too unsettled to even look forward to the feast, which would undoubtedly be extravagant and delicious.
Andre took part in the games with his usual enthusiasm—nothing seemed to dim his natural optimism for long—but Sage hovered close to Merletta, apparently perfectly content just to watch. Emil, of course, wasn’t present.
The drop off was so full of merpeople, it was hard to believe they could all really be affiliated with the Center. It seemed half the triple kingdoms was there, eager to enjoy a day of relaxation and celebration after the various uncertainties and conflicts of the preceding months.
When Andre emerged victorious from his category of the combat competition, Sage and Merletta coaxed him into taking a break. The afternoon was dwindling. It was almost time for the feast.
“Where’s Indigo?” he asked cheerfully. “Didn’t she see me win?”
“I don’t know.” Sage frowned as she cast an eye over the crowd. “I haven’t seen her for a while, actually. Wait, is that her there?”
“Yes!” Andre brightened, then his face creased in confusion. “Who’s that she’s talking to? I’ve seen him around…isn’t he extremely senior amongst the guards? Why would Indigo be speaking with him?”
Merletta looked up, her attention caught. The merman in conversation with Indigo did look familiar, now Andre mentioned it. He was tall and weedy, with a nondescript silvery tail and pale hair and skin. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. Was he one of the Record Master’s personal guards? She thought so, but it was hard to be sure from such a distance.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing Sage’s arm and swimming around a throng of revelers. Andre trailed behind them.
There was a temporary stand set up on the edge of the drop off, on which equipment was stored for the combat trials. Merletta swam behind it, ducking low to the reef so as to be out of sight.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Indigo’s voice was low, but Merletta had no trouble catching the words. “She’s been here the whole time. I’ve been watching, as instructed. I don’t think she’s going anywhere. I heard her and my cousin talking about the feast earlier.”
Merletta’s stomach lurched unpleasantly. There was surely no one but her Indigo could be talking about. The guard responded in a voice too quiet for Merletta to make out. Then silence fell.
Easing out from her hiding place slightly, Merletta saw the guard swimming abruptly away and Indigo bobbing alone.
Merletta turned to Andre, a shiver running over her.
“Stay here,” he told her in an undertone.
His voice was more grim than she’d ever heard it. With a flick of his tail, he swam out to where Indigo still floated.
“What was that, Indigo?”
“Andre!” She sounded surprised to see him, but there was no sign of the guilt Merletta had expected. “Where did you come from?”
