Keeping a neutral expression through Malcolm's rambling was a true test of the princess' patience, but she pulled it off marvelously. She nodded where appropriate, though her lip twitched ever so slightly at the notion of her father residing in The Void. He was a good man and a great king, and for a pompous ass like her cousin to suggest otherwise was more than enough to set Cecilia over the edge. However, this was not a day for fighting. This was a day for dying, and she planned on doing just that. She wouldn't allow the likes of Malcolm to spoil her last day in this realm. She was looking on the bright side. Today, she would leave the cell that had housed her for five years. Today, she would step out into the sun and face her subjects again. It was going to be a good day.

Well, it would be a good day once Malcolm left her alone.

"I think I'd rather be fed to the hounds than buried in the crypt, anyway," Cecilia said as she lifted her shoulders into a small shrug. "I think I've spent quite enough time in a stone box beneath the ground for one existence." Her eyes flickered about the cold, damp cell to prove her point. "Besides, they have been looking rather thin lately. Perhaps you'll ensure that they're fed better once you are the King."

She had learned some time ago that the best way to bore Malcolm was to simply agree with him. He'd surely lose interest shortly if she refused to bite at his torment.