Despite her best efforts, Cecilia felt her cheeks flush pink with anger at the insulting words he had for her parents. Though she had never known her mother, she had been raised on stories of her grace and beauty. Like her father was a good man, her mother was an equally good woman.

Her neutral expression faltered momentarily as she pressed her lips together in an effort to keep her from screaming and crying at him like she had done as a child. She was the rightful heir of Alvion, and she would not spend her last day among the living whining and stomping her foot like a petulant child, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Her hands balled into fists at the front of her dress, her nails digging into her palms through the dirty fabric.

“Yes,” she agreed stiffly, once she was sure that she would not give him the reaction that he was seeking. “So many memories.”

The princess loosened her fists and her hands returned to laying flat against her skirt. “I am sure we’ll be reunited again some day, dear cousin,” she continued, in spite of her previous promise to herself that she wouldn’t play his game. “It will be so good to see you and Her Grace once we are all together again in The Void.” Even when implying that Malva was a wicked bitch who would spend eternity in The Void, Cecilia used the proper title for the Queen.

She turned her head to glance over her shoulder and towards the barred window. It was much brighter outside now. The execution was drawing closer.

“Perhaps you should be heading to the prison yard,” Cecilia suggested. “It would be rather unbecoming for the future King to be late for such an important event.”