If I Know You

Epilogue

"So anyway," I say, dodging another thrown spoon. "That's the story of how I started dating Aunt Pippa. What do you think?"

My niece blinks up at me like she's completely confused. A tiny crinkle sits in the middle of her forehead.

I nod at her. "Yeah, me too."

A knock sounds on the door, and Tory steps through, now wearing a suit that matches my own. It strains against his manly muscles, but it 'suits' him. My wheeze laugh bursts through my throat.

"Thanks for watching her," he says, not noticing my amusement at my own joke. "It was impossible trying to get into these complicated clothes with her around."

"No problem, we had a good talk," I tell him, looking down at the baby, who was reaching for another spoon.

Our talk was mostly me telling her my awkward love story as she threw spoons and said "no" at random intervals, but it was still far from the worst conversation I'd ever had. Also, why did we have so many spoons? How did this baby get her hands on so many utensils?

The baby yelps, reaching up for her father with chubby dirty hands. Tory kneels down and scoops her up.

"Hi, my Minnie," he coos, kissing up and down her face. "I'm so sorry I left. I love you, but you're just terrible sometimes, do you know that?"

Minnie giggles and clings to him like a little leech of love. As I stand up, I try to tell myself I'm not jealous, but I totally am. That'll be me in a few weeks, after we start searching for our own squishy baby.

Pippa already has a list of orphanages that we're going to visit in our search for a child who seemed like they would like bones and art and bats. The months of waiting and planning were making me more antsy by the day. I would explode soon if I didn't get to put a small human into the nursery we'd been painting together.

I would probably explode at some point today too, if I were honest, which I always was now. No more lies ever. Especially not to Pippa.

"Are you ready?" Tory asks me.

I grimace at the mirror. After the hours that Jo spent doing my hair and pulling bits of my eyebrows and helping me figure out these clothes, I look fantastic, but I feel like it's going to shatter if I move too suddenly. And if it shatters, then I have to spend more time with Jo, who wants everything to be perfect. They're currently annoying Ma, talking about the best kind of cakes to have at weddings.

Soon, they're going to head down to the South to travel with G'juni, and even though they're a total maniac, I'm probably going to miss them. But they'll keep sending me photos of animals, I know, and they'll be back soon to do something strange.

"This tuck-see-dough is really uncomfortable," I grumble, fiddling with the bow tie.

Tory steps behind me and throws a big arm around my neck. "But you look great. Beauty is pain. It's all part of being a prince."

"I hate everything."

He squeezes his arm around, like he's trying to choke me. "You should also know that I love you, little brother."

"Stop." I shove his face back. "I love you too, gross brother."

We walk out of the groom's room and part ways. This isn't a traditional Ki wedding in the slightest. Jo had demanded that our wedding be done in Amayrican style with them as the officiant, and Pippa had been intrigued enough that I finally gave in and let them have free reign.

Jo is already standing there at the front of the chapel, under a flowery archway. Their fone is on a pedestal next to them, playing calm music because I told them I wouldn't make my future wife walk down the aisle to the very loud, very odd music they normally liked to listen to.

They grin at me and start saying things I don't care about. I can barely hear anything, and I don't say anything, because I don't want anything to be less than perfect. I take my place at the front of the room and look back at the entrance, bouncing nervously.

There are no guests except a few servants, which was done on my request, because Tory's wedding was a terrifying experience. And because cake is apparently a crucial part of a Terran wedding, and I don't want to share.

The doors open and my whole body goes rigid.

My crying parents step through first, dressed in their finest Ki attire. I take a moment to make sure they're crying out of happiness and not despair about how strange everything looks. Pa, predictably, was not a fan of Earth fashion, but he let Tory and I wear the tuck-see-doughs anyway.

Then King Aren and Queen Elia come through. They look happier than I've seen them since my childhood. They're still crying. They're really good at crying.

Then a now-pregnant Mina and Tory.

Minnie still doesn't know how to move by herself. She wobble-walks between her parents, holding both of their hands. There's a tiny knife hanging off the tiny belt around her, a fact which still makes me wince, even if they did get her a sheath.

They all look great. I think. I'm not really paying attention anymore, because they're the last people who are going to step through before she does.

And then she steps through the doorway, and my organs start dancing.

I stop all unnecessary function, like thinking and breathing, and I just start looking. Her curls and skin are shiny and smooth. The new rose tattoo at the bottom of her neck, which matches one of my own, is also shiny. I can almost count her freckles from here. Her sleeveless dress has a pink bodice. The big poofy skirt starts off pink at the top, then slowly fades to white at the bottom.

She looks like she could be the goddess of looking good, but I'm not afraid or daunted anymore. It's still my Pippa. She still isn't wearing shoes. She still has the chip-toothed smile that made me melt back in the angry witch cabin. She still has Moss wrapped around her wrist, wearing a tiny black snake suit and a hat that she made for him.

There was a time when Ma said my face would get stuck if I didn't stop frowning, but now I can't stop smiling. I don't know if I'll ever stop being a complete puddle of goo any time she walks into a room.

By the time she reaches my side, Jo is bawling, and I can barely hear her whisper to me, but I know exactly what she's saying. She's telling me she loves me.

The day a sweaty mattress of a wizard came up and gave me a paper saying that it was my destiny to awaken The Sleeping Princess and produce a herd of adorable heirs with her was the second-best day of my life.

It had been the first best until today.

Today's the day I get to marry her.