Page 115 of Fake Fae-Ancée

Yuri shrugged. "I guess. He probably kept himself busy with biting down on nails or bending iron bars or whatever the guy does to manage his stress problem. His wife is here, too, by the way, the little redhead Witch. She was probably getting comfortable on the sofa in the meantime. She looks pretty far gone, if you ask me. And Charly and Gabriel popped in as well and everyone decided to have some kind of Italian dinner once you wake up from your beauty sleep. But I'm not quite sure yet if I'm invited as well…"

I gently smacked the back of his head.

"Sure you are,“ I chided. "Of course, my husband is invited to Pasta Night. What do you think?"

Epilogue

THREE

MONTHS

LATER

Yuri

"It's healed well."

Yli-Pekkala gave a satisfied chuckle, followed by a slight slapping sound.

I glanced up from the giant red velvet sofa where the Witch had parked me for the duration of the checkup. A little further back in her ridiculously large parlor was a sprawling, truck-sized folding screen, adorned with an ornate picture of a lush paradisiacal garden.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"What did she just say?" Kai shouted from behind the screen, her voice booming through the drawing room, making the small cups in the antique glass case behind me rattle. "She just said it healed fine. What the hell shouldn't be okay?"

"Just checking," I called and turned back to my phone.

Another chuckle from Yli-Pekkala was heard, and a grumbling mutter from Kai that I didn't quite comprehend, but was pretty sure she was bemoaning my alleged overprotectiveness.

Not two minutes later, both reappeared, the Witch and my wife.

That's right. My wife. My wife, who I was really, truly married to. With rings and everything. Oh, yeah. The thought still triggered a pulse of warmth in my chest.

Kai gave me a small smile as she walked in, zipping her hoodie up to under her chin. The first thing she had done after our return was to get a t pixie cut — much more practical, as she claimed. However, she had kept a bit of the style the designers had put on her and had grown a little more daring and experimental in her choice of clothes. She now wore a black mini dress that showed off most of her pretty legs, along with black pop socks and sneakers.

I couldn't have cared less what she did with her hair or what she wore — Kai would have looked drop-dead gorgeous in a garbage bag any day. Right now, though, she seemed especially gorgeous. Glowing, even. Yeah, like a gorgeous, glowing punk-pixie.

"Stop looking at me like that," she said, sitting down next to me "I’m fine. I've told you a thousand times."

"You sure?" I asked, which made her frown, but she let me take her hand and breathe a kiss on it willingly enough.

"You can relax, sweet prince. It’s really fine."

Yli-Pekkala had taken a seat in a lavish wing chair made of deep red velvet that overshadowed the entire salon, an amused smile tugging her ageless face. "The wound on her back has healed well, your wife's Anima has been completely restored. All is right with the world."

"Told you so," Kai muttered, but her mouth curved into a small smile and she gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

Her strength had slowly returned in the past few weeks. Baba's spell had only gradually faded since Kai had taken off the old ring. Until one morning, much to the displeasure of Gabe, who was just preparing one of his disgusting vegetable shakes, and Charly, who was sleepily loitering at the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in her hand, Kai lifted the refrigerator with a triumphant cry, held it over her head like a victory trophy, and turned to me, beaming.

She tried not to let on, but her relief to hold her own sword again — which she had been doing constantly ever since, even when off duty — was palpable.

I squeezed her hand back, gently. Our new wedding bands shone on each of our hands. I had them made, a few days after returning to New Hamburg. They weren’t as fancy, but also made of rose gold. New rings that came without any baggage or prophecies, but with plenty of room for new stories.

"You'll stay for tea, of course." Baba clapped her hands and, as if on cue, a small round housekeeper appeared, pushing a tea cart through the parlor.

"We actually have to..." began Kai, but I shot Kai a distinct glance, shaking my head slightly. Yli-Pekkala tutted.

"You're staying for tea," she repeated with a reprimanding look. "You haven't shown your faces in months. I was already wondering if you were deliberately avoiding old Baba. But being the good godchildren you undoubtedly are, you’ll stay for a cup of tea and a piece of cake before disappearing again. It's the least you can do, after all my services have done for you."

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