“You make me sound like some kind of moral freak."The Matrarc's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Isn't that what you are?”

“Would you have this?” the Protectorat hissed at his son.Rafael's gaze narrowed in a slow inspection while she stared defiantly back. Rafael's gaze faltered, shot briefly toward Leon, and then down. His answer was obvious: no.And in spite of everything, in the face of all the other more important dangers that threatened her, it still stung that someone, some boy, found her ugly. Gaia burned with sudden hate for all of them.The Protectorat saw. He smiled slightly.“I thought not,” said the Protectorat, releasing her with a flick. He turned back toward his family. “I can't thrust her on any family I know, no matter what her genes are. She's a freak, not a hero. I'd rather make a hero out of Myrna Silk.”Leon had been standing tensely throughout this exchange. “I'd take Gaia,” Leon said, his low voice resonating in the space.”

“What happened to your face?' he asked. 'When I was little, my grandmother was making candles and she had a big vat of hot beeswax in the backyard,' she said. 'I walked into the vat.' Usually that ended the conversation. 'I don't remember it,' she added. 'How old were you?' he asked. She tilted her face slightly, watching him. 'Ten months.' 'You were walking at ten months?' he asked. 'Not very well, apparently,' she said dryly.”

“Every tiny, happy thing makes me want to share it with you," he went on, leaning forward. "I thought I would get over this, but I can't, and I'm done trying. I understand you like no one else here ever can."-Leon Grey”

“What boy could resist you?""Will's hardly a boy.""Don't give me that. He's a boy playing a game," Norris said. "The oldest game there is.”

“You look like a decent young man."Leon didn't smile. "I'm not.”

“It isn't always easy between us. I admit that. But it's right between us, always.”