"Do people ever wind up here being neither? Some neutral good person puttering along and winding up in a confusing legal pickle, gets a not very sympathetic judge..."

"I don't know of a law outright prohibiting that - and, of course, most peoples' alignment isn't knowable - but women's monasteries are expensive, they don't pay for their costs in labor, and the intent is that people only get assigned there if it's needed to save them."

"I wonder what they do all day. I suppose I'm here specifically to ask some questions."

"Feel free to do sociology research while you're there."

"Do I need a particular credential to go talk to her or is being female enough?"

"Should be enough. I'd be more sure if it didn't seem probable you'll run into some racism."

"Lemme see your list of questions."

Some practical ones: was she associated with such and such hostage-takings and maritime disasters and exchanges with various authorities. 

Did she know about the escape of her confederates? Why didn't they come for her?

Who was paying them? Is she safe here from whoever was paying them? 

Where's the treasure?

"Okay. Discern Lies et al aren't in my book, obviously, but I can, like, take notes on whether she's spouting obvious bullshit."

"Yeah. We can check up on a lot of her answers, if she'll give us anything at all."

"Cool. I'll meet you back here when I'm done, I suppose." She salutes and walks up to the door. Knock knock.

A woman in priests' robes with a very severe bun and an aggressively ugly hatpin for wisdom opens the door. "It's not visiting hours for three more minutes," she says disapprovingly.

"It's not? Oh no, perhaps I need to buy a watch. I can wait."

She closes the door. 

Three minutes later, the bell chimes.

Knock knock.

Same woman. "Welcome to Saint Hadassah's," she says stiffly. "You're visiting?"

"Yes, I'd like to speak to Abada, the erstwhile Dread Dagger."

She raises an eyebrow half an inch. "I will see if she's available."

"Thank you."

She returns a minute later. "She will see you. The visiting booths are this way."

"Are visits supervised?"

"Do you want to be supervised?"

"Not at all."

"Then you needn't. Call for help if there's any trouble, some of our residents have violent histories."

"I understand."

She sits in the booth.