Euphemia

Euphemia

Of course, she had the room under magical surveillance. Not just the room with the prisoner who was begging to tell her what he knew, but all of the rooms. They were all under constant surveillance, which Rachel Edgecombe was happy to brag to me about.

Brag was too strong of a word. It wasn't so much as bragging, but showing me. "I don't know if I can trust what he says."

"He seemed pretty genuine about wanting to tell you. I hear torture does that"

"He genuinely wants to avoid more pain and suffering, that's what that boy wants. Prisoners who undergo the suffering of torture will often confess to anything. Maybe they're strong enough to keep what they know a secret but want the pain to end. So they tell us a sweet little lie.

"Or they tell us what they think we want to know. Maybe they don't know anything and whatever they can say to end the torment, they'll do. Even if it's a bald-faced lie."

I cocked my head to the right. "So torture isn't effective?"

"That is a question t
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