If she spent all of them attached to a devil she'd be fifth circle for sure. Maybe sixth. Nowhere near enough. 

Abrogail won't let her do that anyway and the part of her that wants to isn't Asmodean. It's like with Keltham and kids, her brain offers helpfully. You being confronted with people getting their souls devoured because of Evil damages your Asmodeanism, like how when Keltham thinks about kids he backslides on all his progress being Evil.

"This can't be the way of running a church and country that best serves Asmodeus. It can't."

Is he supposed to take her up on her pretended treason - said right in front of a nonreactive Security - who would believe that -

"You know, I don't think the Intelligence headband is what I need here, I think I need the Splendour one. Too bad it's not finished. Wonder how hard it'd be to stack them. I'm speaking with you because I thought it'd be mildly entertaining, and I haven't spoken with another human being in more than a month and should probably get some practice before Her Majesty returns. Since that was my intent, there's no way at all for me to gain your trust; I wouldn't believe me. You'd have to be an idiot, and you clearly aren't.

And yet.

My guess is that my theological advisors will tell me that herding souls from Abaddon to Hell is not a good idea for me, even if it does serve Asmodeus, because it also serves my own worst impulses. 

And yet."

She keeps the paper close to hand, the one where Asmodeus's instructions to her were written. She pulls it out. She reads out the first and last line.

"Serve Me well in this world and you shall be raised high in it. Come to Me in Hell without thought of other choices, as mortals once did in the days before they were cursed with their own wills, and you shall be among the most treasured of My possessions.

That's - the real prophecy, such as it is, in this age without it."

There's the bare possibility of honesty here, even in Cheliax, if what serves her whim is to speak truth to a prisoner who's to be executed soon after.  He has no idea - what he is supposed to do with it - but he is listening, now, alert for opportunity -

"So the Church doesn't contradict that you are Chosen of Asmodeus - because that is true - but that you can grant mercy in Hell - isn't in the prophecy?"

(He would serve her incredibly sincerely if it delayed his death.)

"It says nothing of that. And I am faithful to Asmodeus, and if mercy does not serve Him, I would not dream of dispensing it. But - and whether this is heresy, I doubt the Most High wants to comment on - it seems to me that, sometimes, mercy makes people better. Stronger. Worthier. And if that's so, and if Asmodeus's nature does not forbid it absolutely, then I would dispense mercy, wherever it brings strength; because Good abhorrs the weapons of Evil they fight with one hand bound, and if Evil abhorrs the weapons of Good as well then we're making the same error."

He continues to have no idea how to play this game on this level.

"Is there a way that mercy for me could bring strength?"

It's a fool's answer, a sucker's answer, but if he doesn't play the game at all, it might end; and of course, that something is being dangled in front of him, and that he has nothing left but that thing, is part of the game.

"Well, I notice that the possibility you might get something out of this interaction made you substantially more competent at it. I am not sure if that's the same thing or not. 

If you were to choose Abaddon, Hell is weakened. Yes?"

"Yes, Lady Sevar."

"So the best thing, obviously, would be for you to choose Hell without thought of other choices, as we are all commanded to. 

But the second best thing, I'd think, would be for you to choose Hell believing that, if mercy is what's required to build the strength to be a devil in you, then you'll find it."

"I would surely choose Hell, believing that; but reading my thoughts you know that I - would not believe that, if the Church calls it heresy" and actually even if they didn't, but he's at least trying to sound intelligent now; a stupid minion is one you have no reason to spare.

"Yes. I'm not a god, and that's not how Hell works. But - when I first started thinking about this, when I first noticed how much Asmodeus is weakened by the state where He cannot improve us in every way that achieves His aims, when I first realized that someone was going to have to build a purer, clearer, righter Asmodeanism - that's when I tried to sell my soul and instead learned of His instructions."

"I - think I see, Chosen of Asmodeus?"

"I don't think all those people are praying for Asmodeus to put them to the best possible use, whatever that requires, even if what it requires is - mercy, or compassion, or generosity. I think they're just praying that instead of bad things happening to them, good things will happen to them. And I can't help them with that. But if someone were praying for Hell to give them the strength to grow up in it, praying to become better and stronger and worthier, praying for those who hold power over them to be skillful, and wield that power skillfully in Asmodeus's service, and make great devils -

- well, I'd try to answer that. Except for how I don't think I'm supposed to go to Asmodeus without thought of other choices quite yet."

"I would be honored to serve you while you waited, great Lady, and pray as you direct."  This will be the point where she laughs and refuses him; and then there will be a step of the game beyond it, or there will not be; but Ermengol can see no more clever move here than to say the fool's lines.

"Maybe. In this world I serve my Queen," and last time I started taking followers she made such faces about it, "and I've spoken to you more candidly than I would have, if I'd meant for you to live. But I'll have you wait, until my briefing, until I understand the situation of this Project Chemistry and what idiocy Avaricia's been up to, and I'll think, then, on whether I have use for you. I'm not particularly toying with you; you can sleep, while you wait, if you'd rather not endure it."

"I will endure," he guesses as the right answer, for she's spoken much of strength.  "Thank you for even that much forbearance, Chosen of Asmodeus."  Is it the right move to call it mercy, he can't possibly guess.

"Now tell me what people say about Carissa Sevar, if they aren't frantically trying to flatter her."

Abrogail Thrune returns to the palace, hears out a quick update on Carissa Sevar, and manages not to beat her head against the nearest wall, which wouldn't particularly survive the experience.  Yes it damages your Asmodeanism, Carissa, good call there.

Abrogail is tempted to have the wretch killed on the spot, but this probably works better if Sevar tries him out and is disappointed - Abrogail can always arrange that this is the case, if required.  There's also that lingering doubt about whether Sevar actually is meant to devise better theology.

Abrogail Thrune rests, for a few minutes, before she has Carissa called to her.

Yes, even she rests.  It's been a long day, set in some long weeks, and Abrogail is not looking forwards to this conversation.

Carissa is sure that she has, in fact, recovered, when she enters, because the usual idiot parts of her brain are back online to inform her that Abrogail is beautiful.

"Your majesty."

"My own judgment says that you are ready to hear updates, and then, I hope, to resume command of Project Lawful.  Affirm or deny."

"I believe so, your Majesty."

"Very well.  I'll begin with what is the worst news, so far as I understand all the news:  Asmodia is murdered, or fled, or kidnapped, or suicided, we still do not know."