The night had slipped by again. As she was roused and ushered to the room of her choice for the morning, the Ashe silently cursed the opportunity for further exploration that had been missed. However was she supposed to find a way out of this prison if she kept missing entire evenings? The princess could scarcely remember the period of time that had elapsed between returning to the Institute and awakening the following morn. It was a disturbing thought, to be sure, that they could just steal away memories as they pleased, but what seemed worse was the feeling of helplessness that came with it.

Maintaining a stiff, upper lip, Ashe took a seat quietly in the chapel. She supposed it was supposed to be relaxing, a time, as the doctor had said, for quiet reflection and prayer, but being that it lay settled in such hell, the atmosphere did little to ease the young princess' worries. Hands clasped firmly together, she found a spot on the pew in front of her particularly intriguing and honestly lost herself in her thoughts.

What could be done if the man who led this horrid charade did expose himself here? It was bitterly marked that he would chose a place of worship, perhaps to affirm his position of godhood in this dark playground.