Page 75 of Our Radiant Embers

“You make it look effortless.”

“It wasn’t, in the past.” I let the corners of my mouth hitch up. “But with what we’ve been doing—the prototypes, and getting used to actually seeing my magic? I think it’s made me more aware. So on Monday, with the Covent Garden zone, I tried being gentle rather than turning it into a battle of wills. And it worked.”

“Huh. That’s quite cool.”

“It was.”

“I can imagine.” Liam shifted closer, his shoulder brushing mine. “But, yes. Back to your question—from what I can tell, a person’s magic can reflect their mood, but there’s more to it than just that.”

Gale might have been able to contribute some useful insights, cite a theory he’d read. Me, not so much.

“Maybe in this case, for you, it was simply stress?” I suggested. “You’re carrying a lot of responsibility with the Initiative.”

“So are you.”

“Some, maybe. But again, as far as my family is concerned, I’m mostly just a pretty face. Whereas with you, your whole family is looking to you for guidance.”

“I wish you wouldn’t sell yourself short like that.” The words were the same shade of velvet black as the night around us. A sweet sort of ache settled in the centre of my chest.

“I’m just being realistic.”

“No. You’re allowing them to define who you are when you’re so much more.”

Since I didn’t know what to say, I stayed quiet. The sea filled in the blanks, snatches of conversation drifting over from the group of friends.

After a minute, Liam exhaled a soft sigh. “Anyway, what I actually meant to say earlier? I do feel lighter here. It’s like I can breathe more easily—think I really needed this.” Briefly, his knuckles pressed against the outside of my thigh. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, smiling.

Somehow, it felt like I’d missed a chance.

* * *

We were both drained from the last few days and weeks and months—and so, like true party animals, we went to bed at half past ten.

“I’m turning thirty in a couple of days,” I told Liam as I showed him to the bedroom Gale claimed when we came here together. “Might as well lean into it.”

“I partied a lot in uni.” Liam followed me up the narrow staircase, its wooden railing worn smooth by generations that had lived here. “To the point where George actually staged an intervention—you’ve met him, he’s a pretty chill guy.”

It confirmed what I’d already suspected. “And now?”

“Now I’ve come to realise that life is better on at least seven hours of sleep.”

“That’s pretty much the plan for the next three days, yeah.”

I opened the door and let him enter first. It was an airy room with several lattice windows that faced the sea. Rather than turn on the light, I waited while Liam dropped his bag and walked over to open one of the windows, peering out at the dark landscape, wind turbines and boats like scattered dots of brightness across the nighttime canvas. The breeze carried over the faint rhythm of the waves.

“This is great.” Liam turned, veiled in shadows. “It’s so…It’s cosy here. It’s not something I expected your family would own.”

“My mum discovered it some twenty years ago.” I flicked on the bedside lamp. Its glow outlined sheets striped in blue and white, old oak floors, and a rattan lamp that hung from the ceiling. “Most of the furniture came with it.”

She’d called it vintage charm while my dad just hadn’t cared enough to make any changes even after she’d passed. It was the only place I could remember my parents ever slowing down, making time for relaxed family dinners and fossil foraging on the beach.

“Seems like a pretty special place,” Liam said quietly.

“It is.”

Neither of us moved, watching each other across the bed. My lungs felt tight, words a tangled knot in my throat. I hadn’t brought Liam here for things to change between us. But my attention still lingered on the curve of his jaw, the bow of his upper lip. If only…

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