I made a mistake, it was Edmund.
I climbed into the witch’s carriage, accepted that she warmed me with her coat, indulged in her hot chocolate, and enjoyed her Turkish delights.
I made a mistake, it was Edmund.
I was taken hostage by the sorceress, chained in a cold cell, accused in front of everyone of having betrayed my home, condemned to be killed on the stone table.

I was justified, I was Edmund, I became a daughter.
The Lion gave himself up to be killed on the stone table in my place, I was justified, redeemed, and forgiven by the king who died in my place so that I could be saved.
I got it right, it was Edmund.
I was chosen, I am the daughter, heir of Narnia.