I wasn't awake- still unconscious despite the return of my heart, but Markl has told me about what happened. That the remnants of my castle couldn't continue standing after Calcifer was freed, and that we all would have been killed if not for that Scarecrow that had been hanging about- Turnip Head. That Sophie, in gratitude for the rescue, had kissed Turnip Head on the corner of his carved mouth- and he had transformed into the missing Prince.

The Witch then declared that only a kiss from his true love could have broken the spell.

I didn't hear that part- but I know what happens from here on. Sophie rushed to me, away from him. True Love or not, Prince or not- in that moment, I was more important to her. I'll always remember how she looked in that moment- the sun sparkling on her hair, and her eyes glowing in happiness. She hugged me- threw herself at me, really. Our observers probably had a good view up her skirts- but she didn't care. She just clung to me, laughing.

And I clutched her, just as tightly, until we had to get up to wave goodbye to the Prince- who went bounding off to end the war.

Calcifer returned- and we fixed the castle. Later, when Sophie was off attacking one of our new rooms with a mop and a bucket, the Witch informed me, quietly, that the Prince intended to come back- after all, hearts change.

The Prince is a fool. It's true, the heart is a fickle thing- but if Sophie could grow to love me, knowing what I was becoming, and having seen me at my worst, then she is unlikely to change her mind so easily.

The Prince thinks of girls like those who offered their hearts to me, fooled by a handsome face and assuming something equally beautiful lay beneath, and assumes Sophie as one of them. Sophie was not on the receiving end of a deliberate seduction, or an elaborate courtship- she fell in love with me, heartless as I was, by spending time with me, in my home.

And I, lacking a heart, fell in love with the old-young woman. The way she blustered about until she got her own way, laughing at us as we flailed in her path. Her wicked sense of humour- and how she took special care of us, leaving logs out for Calcifer in the night, and repairing Markl's clothes when he damaged them in his day to day activities. Even bringing me a glass of warm milk when I was upset about my hair.

It was ridiculously easy to love her- even as she changed from nineteen to ninety, and all the ages in between.

The Prince thinks we'll grow apart, now that our lives are better than ever? Sophie has settled on her current age, my heart is back within my chest, Markl has the family he's always dreamed of, and Calcifer no longer has to worry that I will become a monster myself.

We're free. And we're happy. And he thinks that a little thing like true love can be enough to tempt her away?

He doesn't know Sophie at all, and he definitely doesn't know me. True love or not, Sophie is mine. And I'm entirely too selfish to care about his paltry claim.