Lord Armand Richelieu Concord stepped into his dungeons. Despite almost being 14, he walked with the dignity and intimidation of a noble twice his age. Guards with greatswords flanked him. Those large weapons were mostly for intimidation. In the tight quarters of a prison like this, their short sword sidearms would be far more useful.

Armand approached the bars of a cell. There was a grim expression on his face as he gazed at the pair of prisoners. Inside, the boy's heart was beating.

"By the gods, I hate what I'm going to have to do," he thought. "I hope I can intimidate them into talking. But if I can't..."

"Bastard noble!" one of the prisoners shouted. "How dare you lock us in here like animals?"

Armand looked at the rebel as if he were an idiot.

"You tried to kill me, and serve people seeking to overthrow His Majesty. The only reason why you're still alive is because you have information I want," the boy declared.

"We'll never talk! Our loyalty to Robespierre knows no bounds!" the other prisoner said.

"That's right!" the first nodded. "And don't think we're grateful that you spared our lives!"

Armand sighed and shook his head.

"Your lives were forfeited from the moment you were captured. If you had surrendered, I would have spared you. Yet, you ran instead. And now? No chance of mercy. As far as you're concerned, your dead comrade was the lucky one," he stated.

Then, Armand reached into his cloak. He pulled out an iron boot. The boy flipped a switch, and the shoe opened. Its interior was lined with spikes. A grim expression was on his face before he turned to his tallest mercenary.

"Hans, explain to our guests what this latest innovation in torture does," Armand spoke before thinking. "What kind of monster came up with this thing? Eris? By the gods, I hope I don't have to use this."

The mercenary bowed before speaking.

"Of course, my Lord. You see, dear guests, your foot is placed where this device will close. It is designed so that it's slightly too small for the average adult foot. And seeing as your foot is not as strong as metal, it will crush your feet. And if they are larger than average, it will be even more painful."

Dread flowed through the prisoners' faces.

"The spikes are designed to go into the foot but not deep enough to cause you to bleed to death, regardless of your foot size. You will grow faint from blood loss and be in pain. But the sweet mercy of death will not come."

As the captives started to tremble, a sadistic grin crossed Hans' face. He continued his explanation.

"If that is not enough to make you talk, we will place your feet in their metal shoes over a fire. The metal will cook your feet like a roast pig. And you will be alive to feel every last bit of pain. By the end of it, you will beg for death."

"Unless you talk," Armand said. "If you give me the information I want, you will be spared torture. Your lives are forfeit no matter what you do, so why prolong your misery? Let me give you a quick and painless death."

The boy then held up a finger.

"In fact, if you talk now, I will forgo the normal penalty for treason and have you hanged instead. You seem like city folk. I am sure that you've seen enough men get hanged, drawn, and quartered to know how much worse that is than a simple hanging."

Now, the captives were pale with fear. They knew exactly what awaited them as well as the alternative.

Hanging, drawing, and quartering: the penalty for men who commit treason in Foldzar. Women are burned at the stake. First, the man is pulled up by a noose and kept in the air until he is on the verge of death. Only then is he pulled down.

But his suffering does not end there. The traitor is castrated, then his guts are cut open. His intestines are pulled out. After that, his arms, legs, and head are cut off. Naturally, the neck is severed last. That way, if the traitor is somehow still alive, they will suffer as much as possible.

Compared to that, hanging is typically used in Foldzar to punish murderers, rapists, and counterfeiters. The rope snaps the culprit's neck, killing them instantly.

"It is your choice. Information for a quick and painless death, or not talking and suffering torture," Armand said.

Silence overtook the dungeon. Then, one of the prisoners spoke.

"Lord Concord...you are showing us more mercy than most nobles would. Now, the Revolutionary Council and Robespierre are going to improve Foldzar. If you would join us..."

"That option ended when you tried to kill me," Armand snapped, fury in his eyes. "I would be the first to admit that your rebellion has some good points about how Foldzar is run. You spotted some very important issues with this kingdom."

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He then sighed and shook his head.

"If you were just asking for the commoners to get more rights, or for the power of nobles to be curtailed, or even just for the infighting to stop, I'd gladly have helped. But trying to overthrow the whole system?"

Armand grimaced.

"Well, it matters little whether or not I think that's going too far. You tried to kill me. That proves that helping you would just result in my own death. If that's how you treat the nobles who put aside their social class to help you, then a small part of me can understand why so many of us don't trust commoners at all."

Then, the boy shook his head once more. He forced the rage out of his body, reminding himself that he had intended to destroy the revolution from the start.

"In short, it is too late for you to have me on your side," Armand said. "Now, choose: give me the information I want, or I will torture it out of you."

Eris had long since parted ways with Lady Abene, who didn't want to be around her and her guards any more than she had to. And Eris was perfectly fine with this. As much as she wanted to kill Lady Abene, the girl had bigger fish to fry.

She was currently standing in front of a cell, where the various rebels who surrendered were kept. Eris kept her bearing tall. Though the mercenaries she surrounded herself with towered over the girl.

The various prisoners glanced at her. Some were filled with fear. Others, with shame. Still more seemed dejected that they failed. Yet, none of them were hungry. Eris made sure that they'd survive long enough for her to get what she wanted.

"Now, then," Eris spoke. "I allowed you to live because you surrendered, but my mercy has limits. I require information. And if you do not give it to me, I will kill you. But only after I torture the information out of you."

"What do you want?" one of the prisoners asked.

"The location of Robespierre and the Revolutionary Council," she answered.

Another captive scoffed.

"You think we'll give you that, betray our leaders?" he questioned.

Eris shrugged.

"I recall that you are rebels. You betrayed your leaders once, so why not again? Besides, you already betrayed the revolution by surrendering," the Hapsburg said.

"And what will you do if we tell you their location?" another rebel questioned.

Eris felt like facepalming. She barely restrained herself.

"These commoners are as stupid as ever. What do they think I'll do? Even if they don't know I was planning on betraying the revolution from the start, that should be obvious," Eris thought before speaking. "Robespierre or the Revolutionary Council or all of them ordered my death. There is only one thing I can do in response."

Another of the rebels sighed and shook her head.

"Lady Eris, you will never be able to find them. The Revolutionary Council moves their meeting place on a regular basis. By the time you get to them, they'll already be gone," she said.

"You underestimate how fast my hussars are," Eris replied.

The noble suppressed a grin.

"I will not let them know just how much I'm enjoying what's happening right now," she thought before speaking. "Some of you met me many times at the meetinghouse in the woods. Right now, my hussars are burning that place to the ground. Everyone inside of it who does not surrender will be slaughtered. Everyone except the leader, who will be captured and tortured for information. If none of you talk, he will."

"Like the rats they are."

Silence overcame the room. After a few moments, the prisoners shook their heads one by one. Then, one of them spoke.

"Apologies, Lady Eris. We surrendered to you, and we'll admit the mistakes of the Revolution, but we won't betray them," he declared.

Eris made her expression dead serious, grim, and morose. She surveyed the shocked prisoners. Many of them now looked horrified. Inside, Eris was smirking.

"Fear can motivate people, but so can greed. Thank the gods I fell in love with Armand, or I would have never gotten the chance to destroy this rebellion," she contemplated before talking. "Your revolution is over. Most lords would kill you and be done with it. But as you surrendered, I am sparing your life and giving you another offer: be on the winning side."

The girl looked over them.

"Most of you are burghers or other townspeople. Not peasants, but not nobles either. I could give you a higher status, make you into knights."

One of the captives groaned.

"We know that knights are obsolete. That isn't exactly a good offer," he said.

"More clever than I thought," Eris thought.

She spread her arms apart to give herself a more friendly stance.

"Then, how about another deal? I have plenty of lands. In exchange for information, I will not only spare your lives, I will also give you small pieces of land," the girl offered.

"What? So we can leave our lives in the city and become farmers?" one of the prisoners scoffed. "No, thanks."

Eris looked around the crowd. It seemed that none of them were taking her offer. With a sigh, Eris shook her head.

"So be it. My patience is at an end," the noblewoman declared.

A cold glare crossed her face.

"I will keep my offer of mercy. If any of you talk, you will all live. Otherwise, I will torture all of you to death. One by one. While the rest of you watch. Do you want the deaths of those comrades on your hands too?" Eris asked.

There was one more moment of hesitation. Then, one of the rebels let out a groan of agony. She slammed her hands against the wall, tears flowing from her eyes.

"Dammit! I don't want to die!" the rebel shouted.

Sympathy flowed through the eyes of another rebel. He stood up and sighed before walking to the bars.

"If you're like this, it can't be helped," he addressed the previous revolutionary before speaking to Eris. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just let us go after."

Despite drawing a few nasty looks, none of the other revolutionaries tried to stop him. Eris suppressed a grin. Instead, the girl kept a dignified look.

"I will let you live for now. You will only be allowed to leave if your information is accurate. And if it isn't, you will regret being born," she declared.

Rage flashed in the commoner's eyes, but he nodded grimly.

"We are at your mercy. I swear, I'll give you good information," he said.

"For your own sake, you had better," Eris spoke before thinking. "Robespierre, you and your Revolutionary Council are finished! I assure you, your deaths will not be painless unless Armand gets to you first."

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