Page 29 of Beacon

I finally decided it’d be far easier to simply approach him later and ask to resume our lessons rather than continue to try and convey I only needed a break. Before he had the chance to keep me, I swept into a rough curtsy and departed.

Once in the safety of my room, I perched on the window seat to stare out at my lighthouse. Even with it within my sight, it still took a moment to catch my breath. Though my time would be better spent mentally reviewing the letters I’d just learned, instead my thoughts were filled only with the prince. I had no reason to account for such a thing. It wasn’t as if we’d flirted; he’d only been teaching me letters so kindly and patiently, all while sitting rather close and smiling so gently…

My heart gave another tug.We’re only pretending. But for some reason during our lesson, it hadn’t felt that way. I groaned and pressed my forehead to the cool windowpane. Who knew learning to read could be so…confusing?

CHAPTER11

The atmosphere of the prince’s and my second reading lesson greatly differed from our first. I’d been wrong in yesterday’s assessment that it’d be easier to convince the prince I wanted another lesson today than in communicating the real reason I’d wanted to end yesterday’s prematurely, for I hadn’t taken into account that he’d mistakenly assume it’d been because I’d been bored.

While I eventually managed to convince him to resume our studies, it seemed no manner of pantomime of trying to reassure him that I enjoyed his teaching could improve his somber mood. I felt the misunderstanding keenly, for though my silence in the past had often made communication difficult, or in some instances impossible, it had never led to my hurting anyone.

I warily eyed his gloomy expression as he drew out the letter J. Unlike our first lesson, his movements were rigid, as if he were merely going through the motions, such a contrast to his previous enthusiasm. Regret squeezed my heart. I reached out to graze his arm, forcing him to pause mid-writing of the lowercase J.

He glanced up. The moment I had his attention I pointed to him, held my hands up with my palms up and my brows furrowed in question, then used my finger to trace an invisible tear from my eye.Why is Prince Owen sad?When he didn’t immediately answer, I hesitantly pointed to myself to ask whether I was the reason.

His eyes widened. “No! Of course you’re not at fault.” He paused. “Well…not entirely. I admittedly feel bad about yesterday’s lesson, but there’s more to it than that.”

I pointed to the prince before motioning towards myself and tapping my lips, the simpler sign I used with Father to ask him to speak. Though it differed from the way I’d previously made the same request of the prince by mimicking talking, he still understood.

He tilted his head. “You want me to tell you what’s bothering me?”

I nodded as I pressed my hands over my heart before gesturing them towards the prince. It was a sign I’d often used with Father to indicate I wanted to give love, or in other words help. While the origin of the sign had seemed innocent with Father, it now seemed almost scandalous to do towards a man I wasn’t related to.

Sure enough, the prince’s eyebrows rose…but his shock quickly faded into comprehension. “Oh. Do you want…to help me?”

I accompanied my nod with a repeat of my pantomime requesting him to talk to me. He set aside his quill with a sigh.

“My apologies, I allowed my mood to interfere with our time together. I learned this morning that Princess Lavena is due to arrive later today, and it’s made me rather on edge.” He spoke as if he was awaiting an impending storm rather than the arrival of a royal guest.

Nerves tightened my stomach. While I’d known she was arriving soon, I’d hoped for more time to prepare for the performance her visit would require. With the prince only knowing a few of my signs and my own understanding of the alphabet only containing a handful of letters, our knowledge of one another was too shallow to convince anyone we were in love, leaving me ill prepared for the daunting task ahead.

Prince Owen fiddled with his quill. “I’m grateful you’ve agreed to help me, but now that the time has come, I’m questioning the wisdom of my scheme. What if it doesn’t work and I’m forced to marry her anyway?” Dread filled his expression as he sighed. “I wish I could have just told my father no. Now everything is such a mess, and yet I still don’t want to give up the hope that this will work.”

Was the princess truly so unlikeable? I’d never given marriage much thought, considering I was perfectly content with my life tending the lighthouse with Father. But if the possibility of love existed for me, I too would want the freedom to marry whomever I wanted.

In that moment my participation, which had begun with my selfish need to obtain my lighthouse, shifted; while my initial motive remained, I found myself wanting to help the prince for his sake rather than solely my own.

I rested my hand over his, compelling him to once more meet my gaze. I pressed my free hand back over my heart and repeated my earlier gesture of extending it towards him, hoping he understood how sincere I was when I said,I will help you. Then I gave his hand a gentle pat, a reassurance not to worry.

He slowly smiled. “Thank you, Marisa.”

I felt something shift between us as we stared at one another. We were no longer merely two acquaintances who’d met through sheer coincidence or even comrades working towards a common goal. Rather, we were now…friends, a thought that was both warm and comforting. I’d never had a friend before.

The prince’s gaze flickered down to our touching hands, and though the contact caused him to blush, he didn’t pull away. “Should we…continue?”

At my nod he slowly withdrew his touch so that he could retake his quill and continue his lesson on the letter J, which proceeded much as yesterday’s had; however, our studies shifted once we reached the next letter. Prince Owen studied the letter K he’d just written before an idea brightened his eyes.

“I wonder if it’ll be helpful to associate these letters not just with sounds but words they start with. This is the letter used for king.”

I mimicked putting a crown on my head with an exaggerated smile to indicate His Majesty’s usual good cheer. Prince Owen laughed.

“That’s exactly like Father.” He became pensive. “You seem to have a variety of signs for things. Have you made up others for people of your acquaintance?” My affirming nod only made him more intrigued. “Now I’m curious. What’s the sign for your father?” He wrote out the letter F that we’d learned the day before.

I rubbed the backs of my pointer and middle fingers in two upward motions on my cheek, a sign I’d chosen to represent his beard.

“What about for your mother?”

I stilled. I’d never had any reason to make up a sign for Mother, considering my makeshift language had been formed after she’d…I forced the horrible word away before it could fill my thoughts. Even though I’d never needed the sign to use to address her, it wasn’t until this moment that I realized how much I’d avoided even talking about her, the subject being too painful to even broach. The thought made me achingly sad.

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