Page 79 of A Kingdom Threatened (The Vazula Chronicles 3)

“That was wise,” he said, sounding insultingly surprised. “It seems I owe you an apology. I’ve been thinking you were more reckless than you actually were.”

“I do sometimes think before I speak,” Merletta said mildly. “Particularly when I’m about to publicly take aim at the most powerful institution in the ocean, knowing it contains at least some people who want me dead.”

Emil gave a grim chuckle. “Apparently you’ve learned something in the program, after all.”

“Lots of things,” Merletta agreed. “But one thing I still don’t know.” Her voice turned brisk. “Which brings me to the reason I sought you out. I don’t know how long I have before I’m thrown out, or killed, or whatever they have planned for me. And I don’t want to waste what might be my last chance to find out about my parents.”

“Your parents?” Emil repeated. “I thought you were left anonymously at the home.”

Merletta shook her head. “They told me that, but it was a lie. There was a record of my parents’ names, but the public copy was damaged. And what appears to be an accurate version of it was left in the center of the maelstrom. It was the stolen item I was supposed to retrieve during my second year test.”

Emil had come to a stop now, staring openly at her. “Are you serious?”

“Completely,” she told him. “I think the aim was to rattle me so much that I’d be an easy target for the guards waiting to finish me off once I got out of the maelstrom.” She glanced around, making sure they weren’t in hearing distance of anyone. “But August and the others intervened, so it didn’t work.”

Emil folded his hands behind his back, gripping them together so tightly the muscles in his lean arms bulged.

“What did the record say?” he asked.

Merletta swallowed. She’d never actually said the names aloud before. “It said their names were Elminia and Elric, and they were from Hemssted.”

One of Emil’s fair eyebrows went up at the name of the city, and Merletta rolled her eyes.

“Can you overcome your prejudice, or is our friendship over?”

The genuine amusement in Emil’s smile seemed to break through his shock over the whole revelation. “If I can deal with having a friend from Tilssted, I suppose I can tolerate one from Hemssted.”

“Hemssted might be in my blood, but I am, and always will be, from Tilssted,” Merletta said bluntly. “But that’s not the point.”

“What is the point?” Emil asked.

“I saw a section marked census in the restricted records room,” Merletta said, speaking quickly. They’d almost reached the dining hall now, and their window for private speech was rapidly closing. “But the educators threw me out before I could look at it. Do you think there’s any chance they’re in there?”

Emil frowned thoughtfully. “It’s possible,” he said. “Who knows? Elminia is not a common name, is it? Why are you asking me?”

“Do you still have access to the records?” Merletta asked. “As a record holder?”

Emil nodded slowly. “They’ve changed the process recently.” He gave her a look. “For some reason. Now, instead of a watchword, we need to prove our position as record holders to be allowed in.”

“Do you think…” Merletta trailed off hopefully. When Emil didn’t immediately speak, she added, “It could be my dying wish.”

Emil let out a laugh in spite of himself at her wheedling tone. “You’re incorrigible,” he told her, as they swam into the dining hall. “Whatever they taught you at that charity home, it wasn’t how to take things seriously, was it?”

Merletta grinned. “I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t listening in classes there, either.”

Emil shook his head, still smiling. “I’ll try,” he promised. He lowered his voice. “I’ll do it on Founders’ Day. There won’t be many lingering around the records room to ask questions.”

“But you’ll miss the celebrations,” Merletta protested.

“I don’t care about that.” His tone left Merletta in no doubt as to the truth of his words.

“Thank you.” Merletta hoped he could see the sincerity in her eyes. “It means more than I can say. I know helping me isn’t without risk.”

Emil shook his head, his own expression back to its habitual seriousness. “I’ve never been afraid for myself,” he told her.

Merletta was struck with a vivid memory of Andre making a similar declaration, back when he suggested they fake a relationship. She’d thought the sentiment foolish, but sincere. Emil’s was no less sincere, and if anything, more meaningful. Because Emil wasn’t foolish. He didn’t say anything he didn’t mean, and he didn’t do anything he hadn’t carefully thought through first.

“Thank you,” she said again.