A/N: When I finished TMMM, I didn't really know whether I was going to write an epilogue for it or not. I wrote this as I was thinking of writing the next entry for Brandon's Notebook (which is the bonus material that lets us peek into his journal). I thought about where Brandon was at the end of the story and took him back to the beginning of it, when he was first realizing just how much his life was going to change after Charlotte stirred it up. It made me think of the past, the present and the future and led me here. So I wrote it in the same style as I did Virtue and Vice, the epilogue being from the perspective of the man who loved our heroine.

Hope you like it.

***

“But Dad, there weren’t any dragons in this story!”

“The villains aren’t always going to be dragons, silly!”

I glanced at the two small, round faces peering up at me expectantly.

Even though their light brown hair varied slightly by the shades of gold in them, their eyes were the exact shade of aquamarine that I knew so well and loved so much.

And their uncanny similarity to their mother didn’t end there.

At six, both Skyler and Samuel, only four and a half minutes apart, already possessed the same irrepressible nature that made me sweat a little when I thought about the future.

It was normal, I was told, to worry about the days when I couldn’t be there to help them up when they stumble and fall, but Charlotte would always just shake her head and tell me that the first thing our children needed to learn was how to pick themselves up and keep on going. The world would never be a perfect place, no matter how much money we had, and the only way to live was to know that and strive to be happy anyway. I believed her, of course, because if there was one person who could proudly declare such a thing, it was Charlotte whose many trials by fire only forged her to be the strong, beautiful person she was today.

“Your sister is right,” I told Sam with a small smile. “Villains don’t always appear as you expect them.”

“Of course, I’m right,” Sky asserted with a haughty tilt of her chin as she crossed her arms and gave her brother a look that couldn’t mean anything else but I-told-you-so. “Princesses like me know these things.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “But they don’t know about space aliens or battleships!” He turned to me with those large blue-green eyes and nudged my thigh. “Right, Dad?”

I suppressed a sigh as I stared at the nearly-identical stubborn looks the twins gave me, both entreating me to take one side over the other.

I wondered now why I thought that today was a good day to tell them an old fairy tale I wrote about eight years ago which I still knew by heart. Maybe because while I was sitting here and waiting along with the restless crowd in front of Langdell Library, I thought it would be fitting to finally tell my children what a wonderful princess their mother was, even if they didn’t quite know it was her in the story.

They were still too young to fully understand, even though Sky adored the princess and Sam thought the prince should’ve had a big, black horse that could fly. It may continue to be nothing more than a story to them and that was alright with me. Stories had a way of finding themselves back to you when it was time for them to serve more than just glimpses of life inscribed in pages.

“Are they yours?” A woman who was seated behind me in a different table asked in a measured flirty tone, boldly reaching out to touch me on the arm.

She was attractive, somewhere in her mid-thirties maybe, and very professional-looking in some sleek kind of navy blue suit. She flashed me a coy smile when I finally looked at her. It still happened a lot to me but I’d learned in the last eight years that while women’s interest were often harmless because I hardly paid it any attention, it was safer to steer clear if I didn’t want Charlotte to get dragged to prison for seriously injuring some unwitting woman who didn’t know who they were messing with. Charlotte may have a giant golden heart but she had a temper, alright.

But before I could politely dismiss the woman, Sam piped up.

“He’s our Dad.” He was frowning at the woman slightly, nudging my arm so the woman’s touch fell away. “He’s married to our Mom. She’s very pretty.”

“And she’s a princess,” Sky added smugly, her fierce eyes daring the woman almost exactly like her mother’s would. “And she fights villains.”

When my children put it that way, there wasn’t much that I could add so I just smiled at the poor woman and shrugged, knowing it was enough because she instantly looked nervous under the twins’ scrutiny and awkwardly looked away.

And just before I could distract the kids’ attention away from their full-fledged defense of their mother, Sky shrieked in excitement and pointed to someone behind my shoulder. “Look, Grampa’s here! With Uncle Mattie! And Uncle Jake and Auntie Tessa! And Uncle Francis and Auntie Nikky! And Auntie Anna and Uncle Jason! And, and…”

I grinned as my little girl ran out of breath, squinting at the throng of people to spot more familiar faces heading for the two large tables that were reserved for our family and friends.

There was a strict rule against reservations of tables, and Charlotte would probably have something to say about fairness and equality and all that, but I could tell her straight-faced that these were offered to us without us even asking. If she raised her brow at me in a silent pressing for further explanation, I may have to admit that it might have something to do with the generous donation Dad made to the university to renovate one wing in the Langdell Library a few months ago. She’d be naturally suspicious about it but she’d reluctantly accept it because everyone knew that there was no explaining Martin Maxfield and his mysterious ways.

“Hey, Dad.”

He patted my shoulder wordlessly as he took the seat next to me only to be promptly besieged by the twins who clambered off their seats to round my chair to get to him and Mattie. These days, my father busied himself with nothing else but being a doting grandfather. He was great at it too, and all the grandkids loved him.

“Hey, did you all meet up or something so you can all show up at the same time?” I asked Jake as he pulled out a chair for Tessa, who was very pregnant with their second child.

“Two stretch limos, half a dozen stops to pick up everyone, and a mini-conference in the forty-five minutes it took to get here and join the slow procession of cars coming into campus. Thank my wife for her overzealous planning,” Jake answered with a roll of his eyes, earning a sound smack from Tessa on the arm.

“Parking was going to be a pain if we all arrived separately. Plus, it gave us a chance to iron out the last minute details for the party later,” she explained, looking up and waving over more of our small army of guests.

Layla came arm in arm with Gilles who still looked very much like the body guard I hired more than a decade ago although he now owned his security company. He and Layla married about five years ago and although they didn’t have any children of their own, they seemed blissfully in love. Riley, now twenty, was right behind them, and he grinned and high-fived Mattie when they saw each other. They’d been best friends in the last eight years, being only two years apart and now attending the same university. Felicity also came with her husband Damien Holt whom she first met at mine and Charlotte’s wedding reception. He was the lead singer of the band we hired that night and since then, his music career had taken off. They got married four years ago and moved to California but Charlotte was still very close to her former assistant. Clyde and Armina, Charlotte’s still-favorite beauty and style duo, also arrived, and I had to suppress a helpless groan when Clyde whistled and loudly cheered, “Go, Charlotte! Go!” before Armina dragged him down to his seat. Already a blossoming beauty and a promising heartbreaker at twelve, Rose arrived with her mother, Aimee, who also towed in her new husband Danny (yes, Layla’s cousin), which surprised me because they only got married two weeks ago and I thought they were still on their honeymoon. I really shouldn’t be surprised because when my sisters devised a party, they pulled no stops. Everyone who was important to Charlotte’s life who could make it here today showed up.

“Last but not the least—Simone and her new hunky boyfriend whose name I can’t remember,” Anna said, smiling at the tall brunette gliding our way in the arms of her latest beau who was a model a few years younger than her. She and Layla had headed the Championettes in the last three years when Charlotte was too busy to work in the Society full-time. She caught my eye and gave me a little wave and I politely nodded back.

Simone didn’t look like she’d aged in the last near-decade, and her beauty would always be undisputed, but while I still treated her like the old friend she’d been to me, I couldn’t recall much of our relationship, if one could even call it that. It wasn’t a surprise because my thoughts were constantly filled with wild blonde hair of sunshine and eyes the deep blue-green color of the ocean.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear you call him hunky,” Jason muttered wryly to Anna who just giggled.

“I could describe my favorite parts of your anatomy right now but I doubt anyone will want to live through that,” she said before we all groaned loudly and Jason had to lower his reddening face.

As embarrassing as my sister’s blunt and dirty comment was, I was glad to see her happy. She didn’t get her happy ending right after Jason’s speedy divorce from his first wife. Anna made the painful decision to move to London where she finished her studies while Jason tried to get his life back together. It was probably three years later that Jason came after Anna just as she was graduating, and after a year-long engagement, they married and soon had little Gabriel.

“You may want to save that when there aren’t kids around, you know,” Francis said in a mock-reprimand, a teasing smile tilting up one side of his mouth. He wasn’t really complaining. If anyone had applied himself more religiously in his marital duties, it would be Francis who was now a proud father of five. Apparently, when he decided to embrace what could be left of his life, he decided to go all out. He had another health scare a few years ago, causing family-wide anxiety, but he pulled through stubbornly, telling everyone he wasn’t quite ready to quit just yet. Charlotte told him firmly that she’d kick his butt if he didn’t put up a good fight.

As I sat and silently observed our large group of family and friends talking and laughing around the table, I decided that despite all the obstacles most of us had to overcome, we were a lucky and happy bunch. And for many of these good things, we had Charlotte to thank, because in a way, she was the force that brought most of us together and kept us there.

A strong female voice rang out on the speakers and we all turned to the stage where the dean of the faculty of law now stood at the podium, about to finally proceed with the commencement exercises in this beautiful and sunny spring day.

We all sat and watched attentively as the degrees were conferred, waiting in nervous excitement for one name to be announced.

I couldn’t see her from all the bobbing black grad caps up front but I knew she was there, probably just as much of a nervous, excited mess as I was.

“Charlotte Maxfield,” the dean called out just as my wife skipped her way up to the stage from the side stairs, a big, radiant smile on her face as she threw her arms around the older, silver-haired woman who chuckled heartily along with the audience.

Charlotte released her and accepted her diploma, clutching it to her heart before turning to us in the audience, waving at everyone even as her eyes locked in with mine as if she knew exactly where I was in this sea of people.

I grinned and waved at her, my chest tightening with a swirl of emotions I should really be used to by now, as I took in each of my lovely wife’s features—that honey-gold hair as wildly untamed as her spirit, those rosy cheeks that only darken into a deep berry shade when I show her just how much I wanted her, that defiant chin that dared whatever came her way, that full mouth that drove me a little crazy with both the words that come out of it and the maddening kisses it was more than capable of, and finally those deep blue-green eyes that sparkled with life and laughter and softened with love and kindness in the same heartbeat.

It had been many years but I had a nagging suspicion that my fascination with Charlotte was nowhere near being cured. I didn’t want it to be cured anyway.

Charlotte Maxfield is the kind of affliction that leaves something good where your defenses used to be before she obliterated them all.

Many years ago, my father saw in her a brave, lovely girl who needed at least one shot at happiness.

When I met her, I saw more than that, even though my resentment at being cornered had first clouded everything that probably rung loud and clear the moment Charlotte opened her mouth and knocked me off my very sure feet with her first witty swipe at me.

“I want to go to Mommy!” Sky suddenly blurted out, turning to us with a pout that gave anyone a little cardiac arrest because hearts just weren’t made to resist a face like that.

“Not yet, sweetie,” I told her with a soft smile. “Mommy still has to finish graduating.”

“Will they give her cake?” Sam asked with such serious eyes. “Or maybe ice cream?”

“We’ll have lots of cake and ice cream for her at her party later,” Mattie promised with a mischievous wiggle of his brows. “But you promised not to tell her so it would be a surprise.”

Sky turned to my father, squeezing his lined face in her hands and pleading at him with large, watery eyes. “Grampa, will you take me to Mommy?”

Dad shared a knowing look with the rest of us adults who were watching in amusement and wondering if Martin Maxfield could indeed be taken down by a mere six-year-old blue-green-eyed elf who knew her charms too well.

“I swear, it’s illegal for daughters and granddaughters to have this much power over grown men,” Jake muttered with a small groan, reminding me of his own battles with his little girl, Lily, who had him wrapped around her finger almost as tightly as Tessa did. Since she was a miniature version of my youngest sister, it was no surprise really.

But Dad, like always, was the kind of parent some of us could only ever aspire to.

He placed a light hand on Sky’s head and leaned in to gently tell her, “You know that princesses wear their crowns because they have responsibilities, right? Well, your Mommy is one of the best princesses I’ve ever known and one reason for that is because she takes her responsibilities seriously. Mommy has to make a speech first to all those who look up to her, and then she can come and see you, alright? Someday, you’ll do the same and be just as great a princess as she is.”

“But she’s not very tall,” Sam bluntly pointed out.

Sky glared at him. “Princesses will get taller as they grow up, Sam. Mommy always says so.”

We all chuckled at that, myself included, but I leaned down as Sam murmured a question to me.

“Do heroes get taller too?”

I smiled and clapped his shoulder firmly. “They do. Even if they don’t, they can be still heroes at heart.”

A smile broke out on my young son’s face, his eyes shining with relief.

What a blank canvas children could be. And what a selection of colours and paints their parents could offer them to make something of themselves.

Thankfully, the parade of graduates through the stage didn’t last too long.

A half hour later, after settling another debate between the twins about why dogs were better than bunnies for pets, the dean came back up on the podium.

“This year’s elected class speaker has a long list of accomplishments that would make her sound very impressive to any of you,” the woman said, beaming proudly. “And normally, I would recite that list, as I always have during the commencement ceremonies in the last ten years I’ve been dean of this faculty. But today, I’m taking a page off this graduate’s book, and doing it differently this time—a philosophy she has exemplified from the first day she showed up at my door. You can call this a tribute—and perhaps it is—for this year’s class speaker deserves more than a tidy summary of how much she’s accomplished. She deserves our open minds as much as this world does. Without further ado, because she honestly doesn’t care to be attributed a few dozen important-sounding things, I present to you, Charlotte Maxfield.”

I smiled and slowly shook my head as I watched my wife ascend the stage a little more gracefully this time.

Trust Charlotte to win over even the most fearsome law professor in the university’s history.

“Hello everyone,” she said, smiling broadly at the audience and waiting until the applause subsided. After several years of public speeches, social events and press interviews, Charlotte had gotten good at handling a crowd, but that may have more to do with the fact that she was just being herself more than the fact that she had just gotten a lot of practice.

“First of all, I want to thank you, Dean Winslow, for not kicking me out the first day of class when I argued with you for half an hour about the rule of law,” she said, glancing back at the woman. “And for proving to me the many points you made that day in the last three years I’d spent under your guidance.”

She turned back to the audience and grinned.

“Many of you have listened to me talk so much in the last few years that the last thing you probably want today is do it some more just when you’re about to be rid of me.” She winked when the audience cracked up. “Don’t worry, I understand. I certainly hope that after all these years of your arduous study of law and the system that protects and promotes it, you can finally get out there and start serving those who need us because that list is never short. So I won’t hold you up much today. All that I really have to say is thank you—for making the choice you did and putting in all that time and heart into pursuing a purpose that demands not just the long years and money spent in law school, but the burning desire to make a difference that I hope would never die in you. People ask me all the time why I decided to become a lawyer when I could have done so many other things, and maybe the reason for me would never be specifically one thing or another. Occasionally, I just tell people that I love arguing with my husband and if I were to become a lawyer, I could insist I’m more right and win more often.”

Charlotte’s gaze settled on me, warm and adoring, and a breath loosened in my chest as I gave her a small wave. She smiled, her gaze moving over to the twins who sat still and quietly paid all their attention to their mother as she continued to speak.