A cold draft greeted them as they blasted into the foyer, along with the bespectacled gaze of an old man with white hair and an impeccable suit. Morna staggered to a stop, her escort lowering his coat from above their heads and slipping it back on. He dripped with so much rain that he created a puddle, and the old man's eyes swiveled to him.

"Esmond, perhaps you should go dry off before poor Penelope has a fit at the state you're putting her floors into," he said, his voice quiet and raspy. The young man smiled sheepishly and ducked his head to the doctor and then to Morna.

"Have a nice day, ma'am," he said, and then he jogged off up the stairs at the right hand side of the foyer and disappeared from sight.

"Let us walk, Lady Morna," the doctor said, pulling Morna's gaze back to him. His hand was held at a ninety degree angle from his body, palm up and flat, indicating the direction of their travel. Morna nodded, falling into step by his side as they walked down the cold and dark hallways that sectioned off the first floor of the asylum.

There wasn't much to base an opinion on in the places the doctor guided her through, except for black and white tiled floors, plain white walls, no decorations or knick knacks. The halls were empty, and any doors that were open showed only very neat and tidy rooms that were so blandly furnished that their uses were not immediately apparent.

"My name is Doctor Nicholas Joseph," the man said, his raspy voice echoing in the empty air. "I'll be your head caretaker in your stay here at our institution."

"Pleased to meet you," Morna said, her teeth chattering lightly as she felt the cold seeping through her soaked stockings and shoes. Her mind buzzed around the sensation of the water on her skin, longing for more of it, but she pushed it to the corner for the moment.

"The Queen has appraised me of your situation, and though we have not encountered something of... such unique standing, I may assure you that we have had our share of delusional lunatics believing all sorts of ridiculous things. There is no reason to believe that we cannot treat you as successfully as we did them."

Morna drew back a half step, not liking what he insinuated. His voice was so calm, though, that she wasn't sure if he was insulting her or just merely not aware of what he said.

By this time they had crossed into a different wing of the house, passing under a sign that bore the boxy and stark words 'Women's Wing' above the entrance. The doors changed from the simple and open oak affairs of the front of the house to thick and heavy metal doors with locks on the outside. Morna felt a shiver go down her spine at the sight of the rows of unmoving and impersonal doorways. The air felt even cooler, and was as dry as a bone though the rain storm still pounded away outside.

Doctor Joseph's heels clicked on the tiled floor as he passed by the doors. He dipped into a tiny pocket in his waistcoat to pull out a silver pocket watch and flick open its face. Morna didn't get a chance to see the time before he snapped it back shut and returned it to his waistcoat. They'd nearly come to the end of the hallway that branched off in two directions at the end, and the doctor's steps began to slow.

"I want to be upfront with you, Lady Morna, as I believe that patients should not be pandered to nor treated any differently than any other person who has strayed off the right path," he said, turning to the metal door nearest to him. A ring of keys hung to his belt and he pulled this up to unlock the door. "We aim to cure you of whatever it is that is causing you to think you must be drawn into bodies of water, and that means that we will do everything to make sure that is a reality. The Queen has entrusted us with your wellbeing and we don't intend to let her down. This will not be fun and it will not be easy. In fact, I anticipate a large amount of struggle to break your mind of the perfidious delusions it has tricked itself into believing. So, I apologize in advance, but from now on you are under our authority and treatment starts immediately."

As he talked he opened the door to reveal a small room with a barred window looking out into the backyard. Through the slightly slacking rain she saw a rushing river, breaking over rocks and immediately snatching at her insides, roaring in her mind for her to join it. Whimpering she fell backward, but the doctor gripped her arm and forced her into the room and toward a cot with a flat mattress and a strange looking chair that faced the window. Two assistants appeared from nowhere, looking in no way as kind as the one from before, and they forced her into the chair with their brutish strength. Their unfeeling faces avoided her eyes as they kept her hands pinned against the armrests of the chair, and Doctor Joseph tied them down with thick leather straps. She struggled as the assistants held her legs still for the same treatment, but she had no chance of resisting them. She was securely strapped to the chair, even her neck being fastened loosely so that she could not bend over or look anywhere but ahead of her.

The window filled her vision, the sight of the raging river sending her heart smashing into her ribs.

"Please, it's too close!" she said, breathless. "I can't be this close, I'll try and get to it-"

"We've strapped you down, Lady Morna," Doctor Joseph said, taking a step back and smoothing his white hair back into its perfect order. "As part of your treatment, we will have you face your sickness which will force you to confront and fight it. Dinner will be brought to you, at which time you make take a brief break before resuming before bedtime."

"What?" Morna asked, trying to turn her head to watch as the assistants and Doctor Joseph began to file from her room. The leather strap bit into her skin, cutting off her air and forcing her to turn back to face the river. "What? Please, don't leave me like this! I can't- I can't!"

"Try to refrain from struggling, as we don't enjoy having to bandage," Doctor Joseph said, his voice growing faint as he stepped into the hall. The door squeaked as he swung it shut, the sound of the tumblers slamming into place booming in the room like a church bell's final toll of the day. Morna yanked against her binding.

"Stop! Come back!" she yelled, her eyes fastening to the river and her mind already sliding toward it, her innards longing to join the water. "Please!"

"Good day, Lady Morna," Dotor Joseph's faint voice called back.

And then silence fell, only disturbed by the violent screaming of the water curse calling Morna over and over again.