"No,"
He said firmly, his voice stronger than before. Hanry straightened up, pushing his shoulders back.
"I can't do that. Lying about a dungeon infestation means endangering others. The Royal Family trusted us. They demand the truth!"
His hands clenched at his sides. "I can't let this place remain a threat. I won't lie!"
Lyssandra's smile didn't fade, but her eyes turned cold.
'There it is,' she thought, a thrill running through her. 'That flicker of defiance. So predictable. So fun to crush.'
"Oh, Hanry," she sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "I was hoping we could avoid this. But it seems your sense of honor is inconveniently strong. Don't you think about the others? About poor Miriel?"
She leaned in, her breath hot on his ear. "I can't have loose ends, you understand. And the Saintess, she seems so fragile. So… persuadable. What if she decided to stay? As my guest?"
She stepped back, her smile wide. "It would be such a shame if something unfortunate happened to her. To ensure your compliance."
Hanry's resolve visibly crumbled again. The mention of Miriel brought him up short. "Miriel, you can't!" he breathed, his voice hoarse. "She's holy… innocent…"
"Innocence is a luxury here," Lyssandra hissed. "I can make her beg to stay. I can show you exactly how. Would you like a demonstration?"
Her hand hovered near the wall again. "One word from me, and her sanctity becomes irrelevant."
Lyssandra's taunt found its mark, igniting a fury Hanry didn't know he possessed. His face flushed crimson, eyes blazing with protective rage.
"Don't you dare touch her, you fucking monster!" he roared, his voice echoing in the small cell. "I'll kill you! I swear on the gods, I'll find a way out of here and rip you limb from limb!"
He surged forward, driven by pure instinct, his hands raised to strike but he didn't even see the movement when Lyssandra's leg snapped up, a blur of black leather and long limb.
The impact drove all the air from his lungs in a violent gasp, sending him crashing back against the rough wooden wall. He slumped down, hacking and choking, stars bursting in his vision. Pain bloomed like wildfire in his chest, radiating outwards.
Lyssandra kept her boot planted firmly on his sternum, grinding the sharp heel just enough to elicit a pained moan from him. She leaned down, her face inches from his.
"Kill me?" her voice dripping with mocking sweetness. "Big words for a little squire pinned to the floor. Is that the best you can do? After all we've shared? All those tender moments of your confessions?"
She ground her heel again, drawing another ragged gasp from him. "What are you going to do now, hmm? Fight back? Save her? Look at you… broken, bruised, utterly powerless." She tapped his cheek condescendingly with her free hand. "You can't even protect yourself, let alone your precious little woman."
A cruel smile curved her lips. "Admit it. You're useless. Helpless. Impotent. The thought of her suffering because of your failure must be tearing you apart. Or maybe… it excites you?"
She leaned in, her breath hot on his ear. "Does the thought of her crying out, pleading while you sit here in chains. Does it make you hard? Do you love her, little squire?"
Hanry's face, already red from pain and exertion, turned a blistering shade of crimson. He forgot about the pain in his chest, the heel grinding into him.
"L-love?" he stammered, his voice thick with shock and embarrassment. "Wh-what? No! That's… that's insane! She and I… we're comrades! Partners! Friends! Nothing more!"
He squirmed under her foot, less from the physical discomfort now and more from the mortification of the accusation. "We fight together! That's all! I respect her! I protect her! B-but love? That's… that's ridiculous!"
Lyssandra threw her head back and laughed. 'Oh, this is too easy. He's practically a virgin schoolboy caught doodling hearts in his notebook.'
She withdrew her boot, allowing him to slump fully to the ground. He lay there panting and rubbing his sore chest, avoiding her gaze.
"Friends, comrades, protectors…" she scoffed. "So many words to avoid the simplest truth. But denial won't save her. Only obedience will."
Her laughter faded, replaced by cold certainty. "You have one chance. Agree to my deal, or I'll show you just how deeply Miriel can appreciate my hospitality."
Hanry remained slumped against the wall, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. His mind screamed at him to fight, to resist, but Lyssandra's words echoed with terrible truth – he was powerless.
"Still hesitating?" Lyssandra sighed theatrically, shaking her head. "You really do need convincing. Perhaps a reminder of the stakes?"
She reached into the air beside her, seemingly into nothing, and pulled out something wrapped in rough burlap. With a careless flick of her wrist, she tossed it onto the dirt floor at Hanry's feet.
The burlap unraveled, revealing Evelyn's severed head. The horror that filled Hanry's face was absolute.
Her skin was waxy and pale, her eyes wide and glassy, staring at nothing. A sickly grin was frozen on her lips, the same expression she wore the moment the Hobgoblin's sword cleaved through the neck.
But as Hanry stared, frozen in shock, the impossible happened. The head twitched. The eyes swiveled in their sockets, locking onto him. The frozen grin became a snarl.
"Boo!!!"
The head cackled, the sound raw and grating.
"ARGHHHHH!" Hanry screamed, scrambling back against the wall, kicking his feet to get as far away as possible. His breath came in ragged, terrified gasps. "N-no! What the fuck?! That's not… that can't be…"
"Surprise!" Evelyn's head hissed, her voice dripping with malice. "Did you think you could leave me there? Did you think you were safe?" Her eyes burned with insane fury. "You ran! You coward! You left me to them! You and that bitch!"
Hanry pressed his hands over his ears, shaking his head violently. "No! Stop! We tried to save you! It was too late!"
"Too late?! TOO LATE?!" the head shrieked, saliva frothing at her lifeless lips. "They used me! They fucking RAPED my corpse! Ate my flesh while they fucked my cold holes! They made me WATCH! They made me FEEL IT! You bastard! You worthless shit!"
The vile curses spewed forth, relentless. "Coward! Fucking useless piece of shit! You let me die! You let them DESECRATE ME! You deserve to burn in hell! You deserve to be their FUCKING TOILET!"
Hanry curled into a fetal position, tears streaming down his face. "Stop it! Stop it! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to…"
"LIES!" the head roared, spittle flying. "You ran! You saved your own skin! You left me to be their plaything! And the Saintess? Oh, she'll learn… They'll break her… just like they broke me! And it's all YOUR fault!"
"No… no… Miriel… oh gods, she…" Hanry sobbed, the words piercing his heart like poisoned darts. The guilt was unbearable, a physical weight crushing his chest.
'Evelyn… she saved us… and I abandoned her… I left her to that…' The images the head painted flashed through his mind, horrific and vivid. 'It's my fault… all my fault…'
Lyssandra watched the exchange, a small smile playing on her lips. She leaned back against the door, arms crossed. "See, Hanry? This is what happens to people who get in the way. People who are… expendable."
She kicked Evelyn's head lightly, sending it rolling across the dirt. "Now, imagine Miriel… her sweet voice cursing your name when they take her piece by piece. Wouldn't you like to save her that fate?"
She knelt beside him, her voice softening to a deadly whisper. "All you have to do… is say yes."
Hanry lay trembling against the wall, his capitulation cut deeper than any blade. His chest felt hollow, honor shattered. He swallowed hard, the taste of shame bitter on his tongue.
"Yes," he finally whispered, the word ripped from him like a piece of his soul.
"Good boy," Lyssandra cooed, patting his head like a dog. "See? That wasn't so hard. I knew you'd see reason."
She rose gracefully to her feet. "Don't worry about remembering this little chat. I'll… adjust your memories. You won't recall any of this. You'll believe exactly what you need to believe that the dungeon was weak, you cleared it, and you're heroes returning with trinkets."
She waved a hand dismissively towards Evelyn's head, which had rolled to face the wall. "You can stop now. This act is tiresome."
"Thank you, my Goddess!" Evelyn's head chirped, her voice instantly shifting from vicious rage to perky annoyance.