The Sun Summoner had been in many stories.

The Tailor had never left her best friend's side.

The tracker had always been there, since the beginning and on until the end.

And the Darkling had countless second chances, in the words of many different writers.

And so, I will ask this one simple question: what about the prince?

Falling Stars

The First of Nikolai's Stories

Nikolai

The meteor shower was a magnificent sight, a million flaming stars hurtling from the night like diamonds spilling onto black velvet. They illuminated the room in the Spinning Wheel and the light danced on the upturned faces of soldiers and Grisha. The pale glow lit Alina's hair until it glowed silver and placed bright pinpricks in her eyes. She was watching the sky, glancing away from me, and I took the opportunity to take her hand in mine. She started slightly, her gaze flicking first to our joined hands, then to me.

"Collar," I observed lightly, glancing at the bone circling her neck. "Fetters. I won't have to spend much on jewelry."

One corner of her mouth turned up. "I have expensive taste in tiaras," she told me.

"But only one head."

"Thus far." She looked as though she would smile, but it faltered. Her eyes went again to her wrist, the one that was bare, the one my fingers were brushing now. "I should warn you, based on the conversation I had today with Baghra, if things do go wrong with the amplifiers, getting rid of me may require more than your usual firepower."

I wanted to roll my eyes at her. Always so serious. It felt like she was the only person in the world who couldn't just be happy with me; I had to work for every smile and every laugh, and somehow, it made it more fun to be around her. "Like what?" I asked.

"Possibly another Sun Summoner," she answered, a worried glint entering her eyes.

"I'm sure there's a spare around somewhere," I replied airily. The warm smile that curled her lips sent a flash of triumph through me. "See? If we're not dead in a month, we might be very happy together."

"Stop that," she mumbled around her amused grin.

"What?"

"Saying the right thing."

Now I smiled too. That was the way she told me she liked me, even if she didn't know it. "I'll try to wean myself of the habit," I said dismissively. Then we were silent, and she was smiling, and I was smiling, and there was, I decided, altogether too much smiling. I lifted one hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. The featherlight touch on my fingers made me suddenly serious. She tensed, watching me. In a way that was almost curious, I placed my hand above the collar of antlers, on the smooth, graceful sweep of her neck. Her skin was warm beneath my palm as she stood perfectly still. I slipped my hand higher, until I was cupping her face.

She stared at me, her eyes wide. She inhaled slowly. "You said...you said you wouldn't kiss me until—"

"Until you were thinking of me instead of trying to forget him?" I asked, cutting her off. I had said that, hadn't I? Well, damn, I thought, my eyes dropping to her mouth. I might just kiss her anyway. But it did hurt, like a tiny prick at my heart, to know that she was admitting that she wasn't thinking of me right now. Not the way I was thinking of her. I leaned in closer, mere inches from her. There was nothing but a sliver of air between us. I waited for her to draw back and when she didn't, delight and hope flickered inside me. "I love it when you quote me," I whispered, because I really did love it. Immensely.

Her eyelids fluttered closed as I touched my mouth to hers. It was a tiny, soft kiss, hardly a kiss at all. I brushed my lips over hers a second time and that was when a shiver went down my spine. I pulled back to watch her eyes open, swallowing my disappointment when I realized I'd been waiting for her to kiss me back.

"When you're ready," I murmured. I'll be here. I took her hand again, holding it gently in the night.

We stood like that for a long time, silent and hopeful, as the stars fell like glimmering angel's tears from the heavens. Absently, I wondered if they were crying for the saint battling a hopeless war beside me, or for the prince that could never win her heart.