The Cerulean (The Cerulean Duology #1) - Amy Ewing Page 0,112

memories are all filled with shame and envy and hurt,” Sera said.

“You took the measure of my father,” he pointed out. “Cold and compassionless. That was the house I was raised in.”

“How awful,” she said.

Four days ago, Leo would have scoffed at this girl. I am a McLellan, he would have said. I don’t need anyone’s pity. My father is rich and revered, my family name one of the greatest in Old Port. I can have anything I want with just a snap of my fingers. I have a closet full of the finest clothes and servants who are at my beck and call and friends with wealth and connections. I don’t need anyone’s pity.

But now he saw how worthless that all really was.

“I wanted to impress him,” he confessed. “That’s why I took you. You saw the way he looks at me, the way he’s always looked at me, all my life. Like he wishes I’d never been born.” The lump in his throat was making it hard to breathe. The truth of those words was a brutal blow. “When I found you, all I could think was I’d finally done something to make him proud. That maybe . . . maybe now he would love me.” It sounded so pathetic when he said it out loud.

“You should not have to take away someone’s freedom to earn love,” Sera said.

“No,” he agreed. “I shouldn’t.” Stripping away the idolization of his father was alarming—it was making Leo see his whole life in a new light. “I thought if I could be just like him, my life would be perfect. He told me once that I had to decide which kind of man I wanted to be. And now I think I chose wrong.”

He looked up into a pair of startling blue eyes, not fire any longer but calm and deep as the Adronic Ocean.

“You are alive,” Sera said. “You are here. You have free will. There is nothing that is keeping you from choosing to be the right kind of person.”

Leo swallowed and the lump in his throat dissolved. “You’re right,” he said.

She leaned back against the crate and they sat together in silence. Her face was in shadow, but he could see the length of her collarbone curving delicately out from beneath the lace dress. A thick blue curl rested on her shoulder. He thought back to what James had said, that she was beautiful in a unique way. Looking at her now, Leo thought she was so much more than beautiful. She was more than any girl he had ever known. There was more heart and courage inside her than could possibly be contained in so slight a frame.

“You fell,” he said. “In space.”

His stomach swooped, remembering the feel of his feet leaving the dais, of emptiness rushing up to meet him.

She nodded.

“You fell without being pushed or forced, like . . . like you chose it. Why?” Leo could not imagine what would inspire such bravery or foolishness, depending.

Sera stared at him for so long, he felt ashamed for asking.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me. I don’t really deserve to know anyway.”

“Mother Sun chose me to break the tether,” she said softly, her face still hidden in shadow. “But I failed.”

Leo let that sink in. He did not understand it, not at all, but he was certain that the tether was the same one she claimed to have seen in the photograph of the ruins.

“So you need to get back to this tether so you can break it?”

“I need to get back to the tether so I can go home,” she said, and the image of those incredible gardens swelled up behind his eyes. From the little he’d seen, Sera’s home was beautiful and peaceful and full of love. And now she was locked in a wooden crate. All because of him.

There is nothing that is keeping you from choosing to be the right kind of person.

There wasn’t, if he was brave enough to do something about it. And if this girl was brave enough to jump off a balcony into space, he should be brave enough to do the right thing, even if it meant going against his father. Especially then.

Leo stood. “I’ve been here too long,” he said, suddenly worried one of the Pembertons would come in to check on him. “I’ve got to go. But I’m going to help you, Sera. I promise. You don’t have to say anything. You