Temperance had only just begun working at Beldam recently, and to say she worked there wasn't entirely accurate. Her role was not as a doctor, or guard, or any of the number of horrible things that Beldam housed. She was studying the prisoners there in hopes of making a potion that would help them. It was hard to explain that to a castle full of women who were trapped, beaten, abused, and isolated. Many of them seemed to simply...no longer speak. Others refused to speak with her out of principle. She couldn't blame them, really. From the inside, it probably looked like she was just using them, and maybe in some way she was. But she couldn't help them without studying them, learning about them, and producing the potion. She couldn't produce the potion without testing it. And she couldn't test it without people to test it on.

Not that she had gotten that far yet. And she hadn't explained that to anyone, either. But the women there didn't trust anyone. They didn't have any reason to trust anyone. She could only keep trying.

The night with Gunne remained clear in her mind. She couldn't have felt worse for her friend when she'd fallen by Temperance's front gate, ice cold and sobbing and begging for help. There was real, genuine tragedy there. The accidental death of her husband had torn Gunne apart, but Temperance was sure that she would get through it, if for no other reason, then for the sake of her children. There was no reason for Temperance to think that Gunne would end up in Beldam. She wasn't crazy. It was an accident. She was grieving.

"Anyone is fine," she told the doctor, who was to bring a witch to Temperance so they could speak. Temperance wasn't allowed near their rooms, not yet. Her work with Cam had really only just begun, and she had to built up trust with him before he would let her have full reign of the facilities. There were places she could and could not go, people she could and could not speak to, and activities she could and could not join. She could speak with only one witch at a time, under strict guard, and because she couldn't see the witches who were in the cells, she couldn't have a preference of who to speak with. "But - ah, preferably someone who hasn't been here too long? Some of the others simply refuse to speak with me."

The man nodded and moved down the hall. Temperance chewed her lip, one of the large male guards looming behind her. She began toward the female staff quarters to collect her things - books, parchments, pen and ink, and then headed for the meeting room where the chosen witch would have been brought. "Be careful with that one," the man would say before she entered. "I hear she's some kind of big deal."

"Big deal?" Temperance asked, frowning. The man snorted and shrugged his shoulders.

"If you ask me, she won't last long," with that, he turned and took his leave. The two guards would enter the room ahead of Temperance and post up on either side of the door. In the center of the room would be two chairs. The chosen witch would be in a chair kept a foot or so away from the table. Temperance's chair would be just next to it. Taking a deep breath, as she always did, she steeled herself for what she would find inside.

But what she found inside stopped her in her tracks.

Eyes wide, she attempted to meet Gunne's gaze. Confusion washed over her, but an immediate feeling of protectiveness did as well. With her back to the guards, her eyes moved from one side to the other, hoping that Gunne wouldn't say anything just yet. Hoping that she would see Temperance's warnings, and take them for what they were.

She looked down at her paper, as if to read Gunne's chart as she stepped up to the table. "Gunne...Cortell. Formally Morrigan. Is that right, my lady?" She'd ask, assuming Gunne hadn't already given it away that they knew each other. Her eyes pleaded with the woman not to overreact and let the guards see. They were just guards, not meant to study or analyze reactions, but that didn't mean they wouldn't mention something offhandedly to someone else that might raise alarm. "I'm Temperance Towers, and I'd just like to speak with you a little, if I could."

She must have fallen asleep. Gunne woke up with drool on her chin. She still wasn't used to the ball-gag that kept her from talking and making any noise at all. The woman wiped it away, trying to maintain her last but of dignity, and looked at the guard that had opened the door, and who had startled her while asleep. "Let's go, buttercup", he said, restraining her hands behind her back once she had gotten up and he had made his way over to her. He didn't give her any other information. She had no idea where he would be taking her. Maybe it was another punishment. Gunne fought back, just a bit, but the man's glare made her stop. She didn't want to get hurt even worse.

So the noblewoman obliged and let the guard lead her through the corridors, to an unknown location. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, remembering where they went in case she ever found a time and opportunity to escape. Left, left, right... Then they reached a door, and the guard opened it before leading Gunne inside.

With an almost feral look in her eyes, she looked around. A table, some chairs and... Temperance Towers? Her eyes narrowed. Temperance was the last person who had seen her before Cam had found her. The guard had removed her gag before she entered the room, trying to hide how they treated the prisoners from Temperance, so Gunne was able to respond to the woman's question. She immediately understood that Temperance wanted to pretend like they didn't already know each other, and Gunne realised that was indeed the best option. If they knew Temperance and Gunne knew each other, they might take her away again. "Yes", she said through gritted teeth.

Her trust in Temperance had decreased drastically. She still didn't know how Cam had been able to find out about all the incriminating things she had done, and the first thing that came to mind was that Temperance had known about these things. She had trusted Temperance with her secrets. She had considered her to be a friend.

Gunne sat down on the chair and folded her hands in her lap. "Okay, miss Towers", she responded, not saying anything else. She had no idea why Tempy was here, and what her goal was. Was she here to interview her, and try to find out what she knew? "What's this about?" she then asked, still not showing a lot of interest in the woman sitting with her in the room. The guards remained positioned around the door, and would make sure Temperance was safe from 'the monster' that Gunne was, according to them.

Temperance sat across from Gunne for a long moment, confused and unsure of what to do. She turned to glance at the guards by the door, smiling at them before she returned her gaze to Gunne. Her hands flipped through her notes as she cleared her throat, her eyes turned down but not entirely on the parchments before her.

What to do, what to do. This was no place for Gunne Cortell. Her husbands death had been an accident, so why had they brought her here? An arrow was hardly chaotic, evil magic. They couldn't say she'd lost control of her powers and then shot her husband on purpose. That was ridiculous. But she had to start working quick, or the guards would start to suspect something.

Scribbing the words "admit nothing, talk loud to cover," on the parchment, Temperance slid it over to Gunne to read. "Would you mind telling me a little about yourself, Lady Cortell? What season you were born, your age, the kinds of magic you most often used...."

If Gunne did as Temperance asked, speaking loudly while answering Temperance's questions, the apothecary would pick her finger with the nib of her pen and with it, begin muttering a curse. "See little, hear less, notice nothing, monotonous." It was a short and simple curse, spoken twice, once for each guard. It would be subtle enough that, as long as they remained in the room with the women and didn't interact with others outside, they shouldn't notice. It would make it difficult for the guards to read Gunne's lips, and even more difficult for them to hear the women's conversation clearly. It would sound more like a conversation held in the distance, but since they were rather bored anyway, they wouldn't be driven to care.

Once she was done, she sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. It would take a moment or two for the curse to kick in, and assuming Gunne was still speaking, Temperance would lift a calming hand. "We should be able to talk now, just don't react too much," she said, leaning forward and taking the parchment paper back into her notes, flipping it over. "But still speak quietly. How did you end up here? What happened to Lord Cortell was an accident, I can't believe they brought you here for that. What - what can I do for you? Are you okay -- I mean, I know you're probably not okay, but has anyone hurt you?"

The silence was starting to worry Gunne, because the knew that if the guards started to become suspicious of the two women, that Gunne would be blamed and punished. She shifted her weight and put her right leg over her left, softly clearing her throat to hide her unease.

Luckily Temperance seemed to be aware of that as well. She slid some parchment over to her, and the prisoner's eyes went over the words. She wasn't sure if she trusted Temperance enough, but she needed to comply, or her only connection to the outside world would be ripped away from her as quickly and unexpectedly as it had appeared.

"My name is Gunne Cortell, previously Gunne Morrigan. I was born in Ver of 796, which means I'm thirty-two. I used to mostly make potions, but I also know a thing or two about summoning." The only thing keeping her from smiling when she thought back to the creature she had summoned while Cam was trying to arrest her, were the stinging wounds on her back from where she had been whipped after her arrival here.

She spoke loudly, but not so loud that it would make the guards' heads turn to question what was happening, and she noticed Temperance muttering a curse. She couldn't hear what the woman said due to the volume of her own voice, but she could guess what it was that the other witch was doing.

"But potions definitely were my priority. I used them for all sorts of things, although I mostly used them to heal minor wounds and aches. They were very useful for my daughter's growing pains", she continued, trying to fill the room and time with useless banter so Temperance could finish her curse. Eventually, she stopped talking when the woman lifted a hand.

"How did you find me here?" Gunne asked without answering any of Temperance's questions. "Did you put me here? What they've arrested me for was something I had trusted you with." It was unreasonable to think that Temperance was the only one who knew about Gunne's resentment towards the crown, but Temperance was the only one Gunne had really talked with about the subject. She had been very open about her past, the Morrigans and how she felt. "They're saying I'm anti-Rainecourt, and I'm sure they think Romulo's death wasn't an accident either."

Temperance blinked, her mouth falling open slightly when Gunne asked if she had been the one to put her there. At first she felt not only offended, but hurt by the accusation. Yet she couldn't bring herself to blame Gunne for making it, and she couldn't hide her own surprise at the reason she'd apparently been brought in. Not specifically because of the death of her husband, but because she was traitor to the crown? How had anyone found out about that?

"No, I would never have shared that with anyone," she said honestly, quietly, as she pretended to write things down in her notes. "I didn't know you were here until you walked through that door. I work here...in a way. I'm researching, so I can help these women...hopefully leave this place some day." Her eyes moved up from her paper to Gunne, attempting to look at her friend with more sympathy than pity.

It wasn't advice that she thought that she would ever give to someone, especially not a friend of hers, and it broke her heart to do it, but it had to be done. "If you try to fight back, they will break you. Don't let them do that. Just do as they say for now. I'll...I'll find a way to get you out of here." Her head went down again, her pen going back to scribbling on the paper. "I can speak to your family - your brother. I'm sure he can find a way to get you out."