She listened to his words intently. So he'd killed a Jarl's brother. [i]Interesting.[/i] He was obviously capable, Imperials usually were. She noted how dull his tone at the tale. She did wonder had he given up - was he just going to accept this fate? Or was this an act - or, more believably, was he just tired and feeling like shit?

She looked him over a few times before she answered him, choosing to ignore his compliment of sorts, in a coy fashion she spoke with a hint of humour lingering "oh you know, a simple mistake." She smirked as she answered, she wasn't going to hint to any level of guilt to a soul in here. Lord knew who was listening in. "Didn't kill anyone though, that's a slight pickle you've gotten yourself into there. Would be a shame for someone like you to just.... rot down here."

She heard the guards upstairs pottering around, their boots shuffling. Gods, couldn't they pick up their feet when they walked? It was so uncouth to drag around. Besides, they were soldiers. They should have manners and finesse and military discipline. She bet that they had probably committed more heinous crimes than any of the peasants locked down here. "I would really like to get out of here though. That would be nice."

She looked at him again, and at his cell. A slight feeling of resentment towards the fact that this individual had slain someone and had been put in a nicer cell than she had for her slight crime. Of course that was the case, they loved to make a woman miserable. Still, none of them had tried to violate her at all which she had been slightly fearful of. Although, the more she thought about it, she had indeed been violated. Her senses had been violated. The smell of shit still burnt through her nostrils.

"My name is Raelynn, by the way..." she stuck a hand out through the bars, as if to shake his own - knowing full well they would never reach - she found humour in it regardless.