Mara sat against the cold stone wall of her cell, her legs crossed as she picked at a piece of bread. She looked up when Edmund entered.
A smile crept onto her face; "Back again, I see," she teased, tossing the piece of bread aside. "I was starting to think you'd finally had enough of me."
Edmund smirked and leaned against the iron bars. "As if I could stay away from your endless supply of wit."
"You keep saying that, but I'm still down here in this cell," Mara said, rolling her eyes playfully. "What's the excuse today? Planning to invade Veloria and need more top-secret information?"
Edmund chuckled. "Something like that. You should really consider a career as a spy—you're better at it than you let on."
Mara shrugged. "If I live long enough to have a career, I'll think about it. Speaking of which, how's that execution thing going? Still set on chopping my head off?"
