Of all the prisoners, Byerly probably does seem like the one who'd be most likely to break under torture. Teren is tough as nails, after all; Qunari are Qunari; elves can famously endure; and Bastien is a commoner. Byerly, on the other hand, is thin and foppish and clearly highborn, and therefore seems much more fragile.

And to their captors, it does seem to be the case. The moment he's in the interrogation room, he babbles like a fool. Any threat or hint of injury brings forth a new flood of words, accompanied by trembling and by tears. "Don't hurt me, please," Byerly begs, every time, just before sharing a strategic mixture of verifiable truths and unverifiable lies. He's telling them things that they already know, and telling them next to nothing that they don't.

The spymaster who trained him was many things, but he was not a fool. And he did not train a fool.

His apparent compliance has gotten him rewards from their captors. This time, as he's returned blubbering to the cell, he has an apple in his hands. The cell door is locked; then the guard retreats, and Byerly's tears dry up.

"Here," he says softly, holding the apple to his cellmate. "Take it."