Page 52 of Beacon

A blush filled his cheeks and he avoided my eyes. “I…should go. I’ll see you for our next reading lesson.”

I’d barely nodded when he departed, his movements as hasty as if he were running from something, as if he too sensed what I was slowly realizing: whatever game we’d just played, it certainly hadn’t been croquet.

CHAPTER18

Owen seemed extra cheerful when he greeted me on the balcony the following morning. “Captain Farrell has finally returned from his voyage, bringing with him the object we’ve been waiting for.”

He withdrew the rolled-up scroll of parchment he’d been holding behind his back and handed it to me. I studied it curiously, expecting a map of some sort…only to unroll it and discover it was entirely blank. My brow furrowed and I peered questioningly up at Owen, who watched me with a look of bright anticipation as if he was entertaining a private joke.

He leaned down to whisper in my ear, causing the air between us to almost tingle with his proximity. “This is one of our family’s greatest treasures: it’s a magical map.”

My eyebrows rose.The supposed magical map?

I expected him to withdraw now that he’d imparted his secret, but he remained close, his expression soft, so different from how he’d looked at me before.

“I know it looks entirely ordinary, but I’ve come to discover that such impressions serve only as a disguise for things that are truly extraordinary.”

He brushed my cheek once with his thumb before withdrawing. My skin felt tingly where he’d touched me and I was left breathless; it took me a moment to return my gaze to the parchment. But though I studied it from every angle, it remained blank without any resemblance to a map.

“It won’t reveal its true nature without a request.” Owen gave the parchment an encouraging pat. “Please show us where to find Marisa’s missing father.”

I held my breath and waited for the supposed map to do something…only for nothing to happen. Owen’s brows furrowed.

“Please show us where to find Marisa’s missing father,” he repeated.

Once more, nothing happened.

He sighed. “It’s being stubborn. Ronan did warn me about that.”

That was a curious way to describe a supposed map, as if it were a misbehaving child rather than an object.

“Ithasto cooperate,” Owen said. “Especially after all the time we spent waiting to use it. This is the only way I can think of to find your father.”

He was so sincere in his desperation, leaving me to wonder why he was willing to go to such lengths for me. I knew he wanted to repay me for my help…but with the earnest way he looked at me, I hoped there was another, far deeper reason.

He tried several more times to get the map to cooperate, phrasing his request in different ways in case it had misunderstood the first several times…yet the map remained blank. If it weren’t for the occasional ruffling of its edges, I would have wondered if it was truly sentient like Owen claimed.

Finally, his shoulders slumped in defeat, yet his determination didn’t waver. “It appears its loyalty is reserved for its owners…which means I’m going to have to confess to Ronan and Seren that Iborrowedit.” He noticed my widening eyes and hastily continued. “Not to worry, they’re not opposed to my using it. I was simply so anxious to use it that I went down to the dock and got it straight from Captain Farrell. I wanted to be the one to help you, so I hoped I could use it on my own…but I didn’t account for it being so stubborn.” He gave the map an accusatory look.

My heart warmed at his consideration, stoking the feelings that only grew stronger the longer I spent with him.

Owen offered his hand to help me stand and didn’t release his hold even after he’d led me back into the palace. I glanced down at our intertwined hands, our fingers laced together in the manner Prince Jaron had instructed was the proper way to hold hands. The gesture both thrilled me and left me confused…but that didn’t mean I wanted him to let go.

After much searching, we finally located the crown prince and crown princess in their private sitting room where the king was also in attendance. Though His Majesty smiled at both of us in greeting—seeming almost giddy when he noticed our linked hands—his attention remained on the conversation we’d interrupted. Princess Seren looked rather put out about something while Prince Ronan tried to soothe her.

Owen lingered in the doorway, as if uncertain whether our presence was currently welcome, but Prince Ronan invited him to enter with a wave of the hand not being held by his wife. Owen did so hesitantly, eying his sister-in-law rather uncertainly.

“I greatly admire your willingness to continue your duties, my dear,” the king told the princess. “But as I continue to advise you, now is not the time to cause yourself undue strain, not with a little prince or princess on the way.” He gave her stomach a doting look, already embracing his grandfatherly role even before the baby’s birth.

Princess Seren sighed. “But Your Majesty—”

“My dear, as I continuously remind you, you must call mePapa.” He gave the princess’s hand a little pat. Her hardened expression softened, though only slightly, for she was clearly still quite put out.

“But Papa, my condition does nothing to change the fact that I’m the crown princess, neither does it dismiss the duties brought by my role.”

“Your conditionisone of a crown princess’s duties,” the king reminded her gently. “You’re carrying the future king or queen of Bytamia, a most noble task.”

“A noble task that need not interfere with the others required of me.”

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