Page 58 of Beacon

The princess seemed surprised by our progress. “It sounds like Marisa is at the point in her learning to read where she can go from sounding out words to reading full words in sentences. Perhaps I can assist her—”

“I’ve been able to teach her just fine until now,” Owen interrupted. The princess looked doubtful but simply pursed her lips and made no comment. Owen turned back to me. “Are you ready to progress in your lessons, Marisa?”

If he’d asked me any earlier, the answer might have been no, but now things were shifting, causing feelings and desires I couldn’t even begin to understand. For a moment I allowed myself to consider all I’d be able to share with Owen if I had the ability to write my thoughts. None were grandiose but rather simple and perhaps even trivial, similar to our previous conversations he’d dedicatedly filled.

But it was through him sharing these seemingly trivial things that had drawn us closer. By sharing myself in return, I hoped that perhaps he’d come to see more than a girl who couldn’t speak, a wish I had reason to believe might be fulfilled with how frequently he’d been seeking my company of late, even when no one else promised to be in attendance. If he enjoyed my company even without words, if I had more to offer him, then perhaps…

The thought only stoked my growing desire to communicate with Owen, giving me the strength to take the step I’d been avoiding up until now: using my rudimentary knowledge of the alphabet for actual words, still a safer form of expression than using my voice. I took a wavering breath and nodded.

Owen needed no other encouragement. He took my hand and led me to the library I hadn’t entered since the day I’d first come to the palace and become entangled in Owen’s fake relationship scheme…a day I used to reflect on with anxiety but lately I’d begun to think fondly of as time had passed and my relationship with the prince had deepened.

The room was empty save for Prince Damon reading in the corner armchair, a sight so familiar neither Owen nor I gave him a second glance. Owen strode to the shelves crammed with books of all kinds and promptly found the one he was looking for.

“This was my favorite book as a child. It’s a compilation of adventure stories written with language that isn’t too complicated, making it the perfect place to start.” His enthusiasm waned slightly as he studied the book’s cover. “I’ve never taught anyone to read before. Going over the alphabet is one thing, but to move on to actual words…surely it can’t be that hard.”

He settled at a table, opened the book to the first page, and pointed to the first word.

“The.” He looked up with an expectant look.

I studied the word as best I could, carefully taking in the shape of the letters, but though I now knew the alphabet, it was one thing to recognize the letters separately and quite another to see them all jumbled together to form a rather long word containing a variety of sounds. I had no idea how to even begin committing the meaning behind this arrangement of letters to memory.

Owen gave me a moment to ponder the word before moving on to the next one.

“This is the perfect second word to teach you considering how much you love it, which should make it easier to remember:ocean.” He pointed to it.

I furrowed my brow as I studied it, trying my best to sound it out. I recognized all the letters easily and knew how they were pronounced. But what was most perplexing was that most of the sounds I’d learned matched those inocean, leaving me no clues as to what purpose these letters served in this new word or why the letters were able to be pronounced in two different ways when Owen had only taught me one.

I tried to work out how I could ask Owen about this mystery, but he gave me less time to think about this word than he’d previously done before moving on to the next in the sentence. “This word is more difficult:glistened.”

This word was longer than the rest. Panic rose as I gaped at it, wondering how to commit it to memory along with the other two words I’d apparently just learned…ones I was already forgetting. For all Owen’s usual insights into my emotions, he remained oblivious to my growing anxiety.

Though Owen gave me some time on this longer word, it wasn’t nearly enough before he once more moved on. “The next word is not only short but a very useful word:in. It’s followed by one of the words you just learned,the.” He pointed both of these out with an excited grin.

The sound of a book snapping shut echoed from the corner of the room. I startled and glanced towards Prince Damon, who for the first time since I’d known him wasn’t reading but was instead frowning at his brother. Owen noticed and was immediately apologetic.

“I’m sorry, is the lesson disturbing you?”

“That’s not it.” Prince Damon’s voice was so quiet, I could barely hear him from where I sat. “I’m wondering what you’re doing.”

“Teaching Marisa to read, a pursuit I have no doubt you approve of.”

I expected the prince to go back to his book, now that his curiosity had been abated, but his frown only deepened. “You’re not teaching her anything, only reading the wordstoher. Even though I’m not a teacher, even I know that’s an ineffective method.”

Prince Damon approached to lift the cover in order to read the title.

“And this book is far too advanced. You need to begin with something much simpler. I’ve seen you occasionally carrying Renee’s old picture dictionary. That would be a better place to start, though beginning with one of our old early readers would be more ideal.”

Owen seemed just as miffed to be receiving advice from this younger brother as he’d been to receive flirting advice from Prince Jaron, but rather than dismiss it like he seemed tempted to do, he seemed to be weighing his annoyance with this unsolicited advice with his desire for me to learn.

He finally sighed. “Perhaps you’re right. Since you’re the reader in the family, you’re likely in a better position to teach her. Will you help me?”

Prince Damon shook his head. “Liking something doesn’t automatically make one proficient at teaching it…just as your interest in Miss Marisa doesn’t guarantee your own proficiency.”

A crimson blush swallowed Owen’s cheeks, but he made no retort. I was sure it was solely for the sake of the charade that Prince Damon hadn’t been paying enough attention to know was fake. The thought made my heart strangely heavy.

“If both of us are poor teachers, then how is Marisa supposed to learn?” Owen grumbled.

“I will teach her.” Princess Seren stood in the doorway, a place she’d likely been for quite some time. “I’ve been observing your lesson. You’re moving far too quickly away from the alphabet, Owen, and you’re not actually teaching Marisa about the sounds or rules of the letters, simply expecting her to recognize them by sight alone.”

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