Just as she had done when she heard Malcolm approaching that morning, Cecilia lifted herself from her bed to stand at attention for when her guest arrived. By the time solider reached her cell, she was waiting for him in the center of the room, hands clasped at the front of her skirt.

With a quick nod, she stepped towards the open door. She hesitated in the doorway, looking almost uncertain before she took a tentative step out of her cell and into the hallway of the dungeon. Her heart fluttered excitedly. This was the first step that she had taken outside of the cell in five long years.

It was a shame that her time on the outside would only be brief.

"Are you sure you're allowed to call me that?" Cecilia asked conversationally as she followed the weathered soldier through the dungeon. "'Your Majesty', that is." The cold edge that had crept into her tone when she spoke with Malcolm was gone. This man had not harmed her, and she had been raised to treat her subjects with respect. "I would think that Her Grace would not approve of such formalities."