She'd never actually said it, you know? She'd spent so long, years, implying it to the best of her ability, even when the feeling rose so clear inside her it felt like it would split her in two. It had never been an issue with the feeling - she'd been the one that had stopped herself. There had been so many thoughts between her and the words. Am I worthy of love? Am I capable of love? Will I one day fall out of love and just move on? Will I have to move on even though I'm still in love? How can I know for sure this is what I want? What if I find someone else I love more? She'd felt like she'd needed to logically work through every single question in turned, to unravel these intellectual knots with facts and arguments, but they didn't play fair in response. It had been like boxing her shadow as they shifted and came about behind her and added an evil little question mark to the end of every sentence.

But she knew now how treacherous thoughts could be. There was never a solution to them. They'd come back and repeat arguments long settled with the same intensity as the first time it made them. Imagination was a fearful thing, attempting to scare her away from even the possibility of pain using all the resources at its disposal. Thoughts were like wild animals - they had their own instincts and own agendas, more bestial than she was now.

And only the heart could tame them.

As she held Princess Dandelion as best she could, she allowed a whisper - then a statement - out past all her walls and wards. Something that was true despite all the ways she might imagine it not to be.

+I love you,+ she said.