Malcolm's smug smile widened slightly into a narrow grin, the dimples aside his mouth deepening as he leered at his cousin, he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well," he said,"I came to bid my farewell to you, as I won't have the chance come this afternoon. Mother is looking to have your execution proceed swiftly and without unnecessary ceremony. I'm told it'll be a simple process, you'll walk to the block, hear your final sentence before the entire public of Dalhorst, and then, well..."

He made a downward hacking motion with his left hand, his cruel grin holding true as he did so. He raised his hand back upward, crossing his arms again as he gazed upon his cousin. The young girl whom he once envied as the heir to the throne of Alvion, whom he regularly bullied and tormented, mainly out of self-denied jealousy and bitterness, now stood behind bars before him. So many times he had looked upon her here in the dungeon, malnourished and frail, ragged and unwashed, and each time the vindictive joy seemed to grow within Malcolm, and today, it was at it's peak. Oh how he would savor watching her head roll across the block, an absolutely delicious sight to come.

"I must say Cecilia," Malcolm said,"in the end, everything will work out for the best. My mother will rule unchallenged as the rightful and deserving Queen of Alvion, and I will inherit from her a mighty nation, rivaled by none and respected by all. And as for you, you will get to join your father in The Void, as a plaything of Baraxis for all of eternity."

Malcolm snickered cruelly and obnoxiously before continuing,"I'm not sure where they'll bury you. As a dishonored member of the Alderton bloodline, probably in the lower depths of the royal crypt. Personally, I think they should grind you into chow for the royal hounds, but that's not my call."