“You did well. So so well.” The king's got his hand on your shoulder. His servants are cleaning up the remains of the beast. You're crying. The beast might be gone, but so is your mother.
“Bolo!” That voice. You know that voice. Before you can turn around your mother hugs your. Instead of crying less you only cry more.
In your mother's arms, with Casserole at your feet, this story has found its end. Thanks to you, brave hero.