The king of golden hearts, now solemn and alone. Began to hear whispers from her. He began to listen to her and believe what she incessantly murmured to him. Word by word, she picked the tarnish off of his pride, day by day she began to polish his once prized heart of gold. And week by week, he recovered his composure, slowly but most certainly. The greater he felt the more thankful he felt to her. To the queen of truth. To his newfound prize.