Page 84 of Beacon

He considered my question for a long moment, as if searching for the reason himself. “I haven’t needed an audience for a long time.” The truth of his own words settled over him as he spoke. “I don’t need an audience,” he repeated. “It feels…real.”

My breath caught at his beautiful words, ones I desperately ached to be true…and perhaps they were. For weeks we’d shyly extended several romantic gestures without anyone to perform for…but something was different in this moment.

I wasn’t sure whether it was the magic in the air or the fact that finally rekindling my voice and sharing some of the feelings filling my heart had drawn us closer. All I knew was that the emotions I hadn’t previously allowed myself to examine rose within me now like a coming tide, just as impossible to stop, until I could no longer look away.

“I don’t know when I stopped pretending,” he continued. “It was a cumulation of many moments that eventually caused me to realize that not only had my ridiculous scheme become real but that it’s one I want to go on forever.”

His words enfolded me, leaving me too overcome to even try to form a response—just because I’d relearned to speak didn’t make words any easier; in this moment summoning them felt utterly impossible.

But though he usually understood the things I couldn’t say, this time worry clouded his eyes the longer my silence extended. “Marisa? Are my feelings…unwelcome?”

I shook my head, even as I struggled for the words I desperately yearned to express…but I only managed to find one. “Why?”

“Why what?” he asked gently.

“Why me?” As an ordinary lighthouse keeper’s daughter I’d never felt particularly special. I wasn’t sure how to describe myself now that the identity I’d clung to for so long—being mute—had been stripped away, leaving me unsure who I was beyond my old silence. It had been part of our relationship long enough for me to wonder how Owen could have developedanyfeelings for me, let alone the love I desperately hoped for.

“I don’t care about your past, your station, that it took you so long to find your voice, or even if you choose to never speak again,” he said. “All I know is how happy you make me. I…care for you, Marisa. Thus, I’m not pretending anymore.”

It was amazing how much joy such simple words brought me; they encircled my heart and caused it to lift, providing me the bravery I needed to whisper, “Neither am I.” Those words alone made me grateful I’d embarked on the journey to find my voice so that I could use it now in this most beautiful of moments.

He grinned and cradled my face. “Marisa…” The way he spoke my name sounded like a song, one that caused the warmth swelling my chest to expand in a way similar to how my magic responded to my voice.

“Owen.”

He smiled. “I never tire of hearing you say my name. I’m so honored you feel safe enough to trust me with your words. I love talking with you, but nowhere as much as I love—”

Shyness captured his voice, but thankfully, from the beginning of our relationship we hadn’t needed to rely on words, not when each gesture between us had been just as powerful as the most eloquently woven phrase.

His fingers grazed my cheek as he leaned closer, his eyes locked to my expression so that he could stop should I not wish for the next step of our journey together. But nothing would compel me to end where this moment was leading us, especially when there had never been anything I’d ever desired more.

He closed the remaining distance between us and softly caressed my lips in the softest, most tender kiss, one I shyly but eagerly returned. At first, he was also shy but became more brave the longer our kiss extended. So many unspoken words filled our kiss, which allowed the ones I’d never allowed myself to admit for fear of losing him to finally fill my heart: I loved him.

This beautiful truth enfolded me, drawing me closer to the prince who I’d never expected to not only treasure my heart but heal my wounds, help me find my voice, and understand me even without it. I ached to express even a portion of how grateful I was for the way he cherished and protected me.

But for now we didn’t need words, not when all that needed to be said was repeated over and over in our kiss. Each silent word caused me to melt further into him, my harbor, and in this moment I sensed a new beginning far more beautiful than even the journey I’d embarked on to reclaim: one of love.

CHAPTER30

“Are you sure?” Owen’s anxious tone was accompanied by the soothing way he rubbed his hands up and down my arms, as if attempting to dispel any nerves or reservations I might be harboring.

I paused mid-nod. “Yes, Owen.”

They were the first words I’d spoken away from the sanctity of the ocean, but it was at least within view of where we met on the balcony in the early morning light. Our kiss last night seemed to have given strength to my voice, even as the thought of a future with Owen filled me with the peace I’d been desperately seeking ever since Mother’s shipwreck.

Owen took a shuddering breath. “As am I. I’m just afraid…you could do better. Not better than a prince. I mean…better than…me.” He lowered his eyes.

There were so many things I yearned to tell him in this moment, including all the reasons he meant so much to me—his kindness, his patience, his acceptance, words I had forever to speak now that our relationship was finally real. I could think of no better way to use my newfound voice than to assure Owen of his worth by expressing all I felt for him.

I caressed his cheek, compelling him to look at me. “I want you. I…love you.” Shyness filled the words, but I was certain that no truer ones had ever been spoken.

A blush tinged his cheeks even as wonder filled his eyes. “I love you too.” He glanced nervously around the abandoned balcony, and after ensuring we were truly alone, he leaned down and lightly caressed my lips with his. The fact the kiss had been given outside our previous charade made it all the more special, as real as he was.

“Does that mean you’ll marry me?” Owen whispered against my lips. “Then we can spend a lifetime experiencing conversations—signed, written, or spoken—even as I promise to love you forever. Please, Marisa.”

Tears of happiness prickled my eyes as I nodded…before amending it with a single word. “Yes.”

Owen’s smile was tender when he pulled away to caress my cheek. “Yes has become one of my new favorite words.” He softly kissed me again. “If you’re truly certain, then we should inform my parents of the change in our relationship.”

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