Rhodoreef

28. The Supreme Duo

Like many little mermaids back in her childhood, Dea used to make believe she was a princess. In fact, the princess craze reached fever pitch after the movie release of The Sleeping Beau, and she even took part in the school play with her tutu and spear. She never for once imagined that there might be more to it than dress-up. Now, she sat shell-shocked while the revelation sank in.

"That's impossible," she whispered, the soft swish of her voice barely audible in the quiet.

Gramma merely shifted her attention to the curving wall, glistening in a gradient of silver and off-white. Displayed in ornate frames were pictures of the royal line.

Following her gaze, Dea soaked in the photograph of Queen Marina on her coronation day. She was draped in the flamboyant traditional attire of Calliathron, her hair up-do resembling a pink sea wave. Crimson coated her lips, and a water pattern extended from her eyes to the temples.

Next to the photo was that of her wedding. Her consort looked directly at the camera—a younger version of the man she had seen on TV and the C-Net.

Her mouth slowly gaped open.

The wedding photo was waiting for her to view it just the right way—not unlike the echo-sculpture down in the atrium. Her mind's eye superimposed it on the memory of her parents' snapshot. She suddenly saw an uncanny resemblance—from the queen's confident pose to her consort's smallish nose. Dea's heart jounced in her chest.

"Is this why you refused to talk about my parents?" she asked weakly.

Gramma closed her eyes. "It's not easy for me to speak of them, child...It was the darkest time of my life."

A full minute dragged on while they sat unmoving.

Finally, a beeping noise announced the arrival of a bot. It drifted in, carrying glasses of juice on its flat back.

That was when Dea realized how parched she was. She downed a glass in one go, the cool sweetness trailing down her throat.

She placed the empty glass on the bot and reached up a hand to rub her eyes again. "But why didn't you want me to know? Why..."

"I have always lived a simple life. It's how your great grandparents raised me as well." Gramma stared out into the blue again. "It teaches you humility, to work hard and to be grateful for what you have. You were to inherit your parents' money and property at eighteen. But while you were under my roof, I wanted you to live a normal life—away from all this. The state also wanted to conceal your identity for your own safety."

"What about my second cousins and my—"

"They don't know. Only my sister's family knew at the time, and the children were too young. Our ancestral home was a larger plot of land near the cays, where we all lived and grew our food. When the state acquired lands for development, we were compensated and provided those fancy little huts." Gramma leaned back with a heavy sigh. "You were just a paddler when we moved in—a precocious one at that. There were rough patches, yes, but it's my belief that a royal should understand the ways of the common people."

Dea opened her mouth and closed it. Then she buried her face in her hands.

"When Mr. Massa became the Regent all those years ago, he fed the rumor that the heir apparent is being raised in the North. When ties weakened after the epidemic, it was harder to keep it up." Gramma's voice took on a pensive note. "You are probably the state's best-kept secret."

That statement sparked something in Dea's brain. Anuk. He knew. He figured it out.

"This is too much for you," her grandmother began to say, even though Dea shook her head vehemently. "You look like you've been through hell. We can—"