“Beg your pardon, Lydia?"

When hearing that voice, Lydia immediately stirred, breaking from her weak slumber. She simply dozed off in the corner of the cell, but hardly felt the pangs of exhaustion; she was used to little sleep.

As it turned out, Ciel was the one who woke her. He stood outside the cell, now, looking surprised.

He chuckled. "I think you’re the first person to actually sleep here. Now, then, it’s just as I said before; the lady who’s meant to decide your institution in here with the doctor. As such, you’ll finally be able to find out where you’re going from here on out.”

Lydia just nodded, standing up to brush out her dress.

“You best brighten up, now,” Ciel remarked. “Lunatic asylums may sound harsh, and some actually are, but we’re good at decisions like these. I can safely say that wherever it may be, it will be better than gaol.”

It better, Lydia bitterly thought. “Thank you for that.”

“Of course,” Ciel responded. He stepped aside. “Please, come along.”

Lydia breathed a quiet sigh, then started out of the cell and continued to follow the investigator without another word.

Eventually, though, Ciel spoke randomly, “You know, Ms Rein, I’m quite amazed and appreciative of how cooperative you’ve been, save for that first night. It’s a treat for us officers to come across decent human beings.”

“I can imagine,” Lydia muttered. “One of the people in your cellblock was quite happy to vocalize his excitement around a lady.”

Ciel laughed at that. “Apologies.”

Soon enough, they reached the familiar hall, and Ciel led her into the same room as before, with only the one table and few chairs.

Lydia recognized Sam, who was already seated at the table, but two other people were with him. One was simply an older man with a grey beard and dark coat. The second person was a woman who, upon first glance, she felt very unsure of. The lady had brown hair that was tied into a tight bun, and she wore neatly-assembled grey attire. It was her face that was disturbing, though; bulging eyes and a sharply hooked nose made her look like a bird. Lydia was curious if harpies had taken over the police station.

The voice she had was stern and proper. “Ms Rein, please take a seat.”

Lydia obeyed, sitting down, while Ciel took the chair next to her.

Annoyed, Lydia simply said, "It would be better if you just used my first name, please."

"Very well," the new woman spoke. "Now, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ann Voltur, and as you may have heard from your trial verdict, I have been tasked with admitting you to a proper institution.”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. Ann ‘Vulture’ is more like it. She’s said only a few sentences, and I already don’t like her one bit.

Ann reviewed some documents before her. "Let's see...Lydia was found at the crime scene with the victim's blood on her. She was clearly acting delusional, and her resistance to the police made it clear that this instability was causing belligerent behaviour similar to what could be labelled as, judging on recent studies, ‘schizophrenic.’"

"Exactly, so we need a place with good restraints,” Sam insisted. “One not afraid to knock her around if she pops off.”

Like you? Lydia irately thought.

Ann glared over him. "This would be simpler if you did not interrupt.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but did not say anything.

"On the other hand, nobody witnessed the actual death," Ann explained. "That one friend was second to find the crime scene, and that Lydia was drinking the victim's blood while muttering several crazy phrases, describing it to be the 'vision of pure criminal madness.' Not only do we have a believable counterclaim from Lydia, but this lady was a drunk prostitute.”

"A witness is a witness," Sam remarked. "We can't just ignore her, intoxicated hooker or not."

"I never said we would," Ann responded. "Anyways, when the police found Lydia, she wasn't drinking blood. She was just a scared girl crying over her mother's mangled corpse. Her belligerence toward has no excuse, but the reason for her being found in the blood does."

Belligerence? The officer snuck up and started dragging me off; am I supposed to stay limp and let some stranger pull at me? Not to mention, he grabbed my arse in the process. That was probably an accident, but he still deserved that slap.

"Why is this important, Ann?” Asked Ciel. “This case has already been given a verdict, and it’s not going to change regardless of who reviews it. Our job is just giving her a place to be from here on out.”

"I am aware, Mr Evans,” Ann argued. “I’m simply restating what we know to help finalize this. Some of these institutions are stricter and focused on healing, others much looser with their rules and methods. It takes more than basic fact to decide which one will suit our little lady, here.”

All of them are the same, imbeciles! They all have barred windows and psychopaths, and I don’t want any of it! I don’t care which one is more abrasive, I just want to go home!

Ciel replied to Ann, “Precisely, so let’s be sure she goes somewhere good. She’s young and been through a lot, and we don’t need to deepen the wounds by sending her to a place with people who harass her and shove random pills down her throat.”

Sam sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "You're not making this any easier, Ann.”

Ann glanced over her shoulder. “Doctor, would you care to add your opinion?”

The old man laughed, “I’m as lost as you are, I’m afraid. My initial impression of Lydia is that she’s just a strange person, but my previous evaluation can’t have changed in just one day. ‘Not completely mad, but also in need of work.’”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. I'm not even going to try to argue. It seems whenever I open my mouth, it gets contradicted right away, or leads to more trouble.

Ciel sat up straight. “You know, if I may add my two cents, I’d like to point out that we’re in a time of mental illness. Our main options when it comes to lunatic asylums and mind treatment are quite full and limited.”

“Your point, Evans?” Ann interrogated.

“Simple,” Ciel responded. “On a side note, Lydia’s mother was kind and smart enough to stockpile a good amount of money in case of an accident, and in her will, she stated she wanted it to go to Lydia first. Now, I doubt with this nonsense going on that Lydia will be able to obtain it freely, but instead of letting it go anywhere else, we could use it to pay for a much better place than some flooded institution, but also able to offer the same help.”

Ann beady eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me you're thinking of there."

"Precision of language would be preferable,” Ciel remarked. “If by ‘there,’ you mean Aetherius Manerij, then yes, we should take the extra steps and money to send her there.”

Lydia cocked her head. What a mouthful. While ‘Aetherius’ sounds familiar, like I may have heard it on the street somewhere, I’m completely baffled...

"You know how I feel about that damn place," Ann argued. She grunted, crossing her arms. "If it were up to me, those patients would be rescued, and the manor itself condemned."

Sam grunted angrily. "The place sends chills down my spine, every time I merely think about it. Why are you so fond of it, Ciel? You're the only one who ever supports the idea of someone being shipped there. The master could say the sky is green, and you’d believe him."

"Quiet, you," Ciel retorted. "If you really must know, I met Lord Victor a long time ago, while I was still a new officer. That wasn’t even before things went to hell for his family; he’s a good man, so we can be sure those patients are in good hands.”

Ann sighed, "And you honestly think Lydia would fit in there? It’s not a very large manor, you know, there may not even be room left."

"I think it’s a good place for her," Ciel replied. "Very homey and peaceful, out in the country, unlike those large institutions that appear more like ramshackle hospitals. That’s much too harsh on a lady as young and fickle as Lydia, here. Aetherius’s ways are looser.” He chuckled, “And that ’fun’ doctor would help a lot.”

Ann scoffed, “Don’t bother calling that wretch a ‘doctor.’ And just look at the details; that place has taken in a total of seven patients. The first came in December of 1885. It is now August of 1887, and what’s the current total? Seven. The patients may get coddled, but they make no progress!"

“That’s just rubbish,” Ciel retorted. "Last time you were there, inspecting the place, you said some of them have improved much since their first day. It's also the patient themselves, mind you. Some were coming from worse places than others, and they all have different minds. That first patient went through a lot; healing those wounds would take more time than...Forsay, the orphans, who've already shown so much recovery that another month or two is all they'd need to be fit for discharge. They were also the fourth and fifth patients to be taken in."

“Not to mention the method,” the doctor intervened. “Other places use things like shock therapy and such to find an instant cure, and it is often unsuccessful or just a very temporary solution. This way takes much more time and patience, but is safer and more effective.”

"Lydia needs professional help," Ann argued. “You're talking about a manor that belongs to the owner of a firearms company, and the ‘doctor’ is barely suitable enough to be a nurse!"

"Madame Hinata is licensed to practice psychotherapy," said Ciel. "She would need the proper wit and education if she were to get that far. Technically, everyone there is already getting professional help."

Lydia furrowed her brows. This manor belongs to the owner of a firearms company, and yet it helps insane people? I don't get it.

Ann took a deep breath. "Mr Griffith, what is your opinion?"

"Well, I don't like Aetherius anymore than you do," Sam remarked. "That family, what's left of it, unnerves me, and the manor itself appears to be haunted. However, Ciel does have a point.”

The older man interfered, “I must side with Ciel, as well. The biggest threat in that manor is a mischievous juvenile. Now, Hinata is more of a psychologist than an official doctor, but I’ve not heard one fallible point from her in that area, and even agree that her patients are faring well. She’s proven that this is a place for healing, not just for restraints and heavy medication.”

Ciel nodded. “Seems you’re just about outvoted, Ann.”

Ann glared daggers at him. "In case you forgot, this wasn’t meant to be decided on a vote. The judge put me in charge.” She sighed, “Although, you’ve made some good enough points to sway me. How’s this; if the Aetheriuses have enough room and are willing to accept another patient, I’ll allow it. If not, we go with my idea.”

Ciel stood. “Very well, then. Please stand by.”

While the one investigator left, Lydia hoped this would allow her time to ask questions.

She cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but I don’t understand what’s meant to happen. What is this place, and who are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry for the confusion,” Ann responded. “Usually, things happen much differently in cases like yours, but it seems some of us are just too soft to apply you to the norm. This ‘Aetherius’ concept is very unorthodox, nothing like what you would see elsewhere, but it works for the people like yourself. Not unstable, just a tad wounded. Instead of focusing on rigorous treatments, or giving up entirely, they focus on something called ‘rehabilitation.’ Very subtle healing done subconsciously, through simple hobbies, antics, and conversation.”

That sounds alright, Lydia thought to herself. “Why are you so against the idea, though?”

Ann sighed, “It’s not because I think something bad will happen throughout this. As a matter of fact, I find this concept quite useful, especially in a time where mental science is becoming more important. It’s just the family in charge of it, what little there is. Let’s just say their history has led me to think they have no place in this profession.”

That’s unnerving, Lydia thought. "Where is this place?"

"Oh, not too far," Ann replied. "From here, it's only about an hour-and-a-half ride, by carriage. It's out in the country; about thirty minutes from the city. The good part is that it's nice and peaceful, I hear, no busy city sounds to disturb the place."

Lydia discretely sighed. The city is what I’m used to, though.

Sam laughed, “You’re lucky in more ways than one, Lydia. Not only do you get special treatment, being sent to a special manor with more luxuries than your average asylum, but you definitely caught Ann in a very good mood.”

Ann glared over him. “Mr Griffith, can you please be more professional?” She crossed her arms. “Now, Lydia, what would your opinion on this be?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lydia insisted. "As nice as a ‘manor’ sounds, I really just want to go home. Why do I have to be shipped off like this?”

"That wouldn't work," Ann answered. "You heard your verdict; we don’t have enough evidence to prove your guilt, but we do have enough to prove that the incident has left you mentally unfit. To put it lightly, you’re just not fit to rejoin society. Only after professionals confirm you’ve been cured will we be able to start the process of discharging you.”

Lydia looked baffled. “All I have to do is prove I’m sane? Look in front of you! I’m not rambling on or tearing my own hair out; I’m not crazy!”

"Looks can deceive so easily," said Ann. "It’s not just your general behaviour, it’s your involuntary sayings and actions. Those people who end up locked in padded rooms and straight jackets find themselves perfectly sane, you know, but if they really were, then why would they be there at all?”

Lydia bit her tongue.

Ann leaned closer. “Fighting more is futile. If anything, it only proves what we’ve been saying. The point is that until your madness is gone, and you’ve been healed, you will remain in the custody of an institution, be it Aetherius or not. That's how it must be."

Lydia’s eyes narrowed, and she refused a response.

Do I trust your judgment or not?

The tensions seemed to quietly rise as they sat there in silence, but before anything could continue, Ciel had returned. This time, he was holding a few papers, and to Ann’s discontent, he had a cocky smile.

"Good news," he chimed. "I was able to get through to them. Aetherius Manerij has one available room left, and is more than willing to accept Lydia as the eighth patient. They’re going to prepare for her arrival as soon as they can. Accordingly, we’ve agreed that she best be there by tomorrow, at three-o’clock.”

Ann was clearly unamused. "Very well. Now you can help get the court nonsense in place."

Ciel sighed, “You just love to make sure I’m gutted, don’t you?” He motioned outside. "Anyways, Lydia, if you would kindly follow me, I'll take you back to the cell. Only one more night and you’ll be out of here, as you heard."

Lydia couldn't help wondering, And is this new place going to be better or worse?