The Cerulean (The Cerulean Duology #1) - Amy Ewing Page 0,82
shock, and Leela felt as if her battered heart could not bear another blow. Unworthy? Unworthy?
The High Priestess seemed so sincerely distraught, Leela did not have to look around the temple to know the Cerulean would believe her. They always did. She herself always had. And besides, this was easy to believe, easier than thinking Sera was special or pious or noble or any of the things they had been saying about her.
“She was not true enough to aid this City in its quest for a new home,” the High Priestess said, and some of the novices were nodding in agreement. “But take heart, my children! For Mother Sun, in her infinite wisdom, has forgiven us all for the sins of only one—there shall be another ceremony when she has chosen a pure and deserving Cerulean. Put your minds and hearts to rest, for our City is in her hands.”
The relief at her words was palpable—the Cerulean smiled at each other, orange mothers uttering prayers of thanks.
“We thank you, Mother Sun,” the High Priestess continued, raising her hands, the moonstone on her circlet glowing against her forehead, “for the gifts you bring us, for your light and warmth, for your healing power. We beg you to receive us into your heart as we receive you into ours, to guide us on our journeys and protect our City from harm. This we pray.”
For the first time in her entire life, Leela did not join in when the congregation repeated, “This we pray.”
24
THE VERY NEXT MORNING, THE NEWS SPREAD THROUGHOUT the City that a wedding season was about to begin.
It was just as Koreen had predicted days ago in the cloudspinners’ grove. To Leela that felt like another century, a time when Sera was still alive and the High Priestess could be trusted implicitly. Now she could not help but be suspicious. Just as the City was teetering on the brink of uncertainty and confusion, a period of joy and celebration had been announced. It all seemed a rather convenient distraction.
And it was working. Sera’s failure had been explained away, their leader had reassured the Cerulean all would be well, and now a time of love and laughter would begin. Everyone was out and about, harvesting food for the upcoming feasts, spinning fabric in the cloudspinners’ grove for wedding gowns, digging for stargems in the mines, or making garlands of flowers in the Day Gardens. There was a unity to the work and the Cerulean thrived under it.
“Are you not even a little excited?” her green mother said that afternoon as they milked seresheep in the meadow. “To see a wedding season at long last. I know it is something you have always wanted.”
Leela shrugged and focused on filling her pail with milk. A wedding season had been something she and Sera were supposed to experience together. They would decorate their dresses and giggle through the ceremonies and eat until their bellies were stuffed. They would dance the Lunarbelle and stay up past the hour of the dark, whispering of their own futures. That was how the wedding season was supposed to be.
The seresheep she was milking let out a loud bleat and Leela patted its silvery fleece. Her pail was nearly full.
“I will take this to the creamery,” she said. Her green mother reached out and placed a hand on Leela’s arm.
“Talk to me,” she said. “Please. Your mothers and I . . . we are fearful of this pall that has befallen you.”
Leela did not know where to begin. For a moment she considered telling her mother of the conversation she had overheard, but something in her whispered no.
“Everything is changing so fast,” she said instead. “It is as if everyone has simply . . . forgotten her.”
“No, my darling,” her green mother said. “No one has forgotten. But Cerulean do not deal with uncertainty well. We are happier when there is work to focus on, and a unity of purpose. We have that now.”
“Do you think she was unworthy?”
“I do not know. I speak the truth,” her green mother insisted, because Leela was shaking her head. “Sera was always a good friend, a loving, kind girl. Yes, she was loud, and boisterous, and my goodness, she had more questions than Seetha knew what to do with. Do I think her unworthy? No, I do not. But I am not Mother Sun, my dear. I never read the heart of Sera Lighthaven.”