Christine sat in the little cell, looking at the sun slowly making it's way to the bed. She was deep in her thoughts. She blamed herself for letting her father go to the fair and hated the master, or as he named himself, "ghost" of the castle for being so cruel and cold.

As she was deep in thought, she failed to notice that the discarded golden candelabra behind her cell door started to stand up, slowly making it's way towards the lever, which served instead of a lock and key.

What got Christine to jump up surprised was the sound of the lever being pressed down and the door creaking open. Since she didn't know who opened the door, Christine quickly took the little wooden stool on which she was before sitting as a mean of defense.

"W-Who's there?" Christine asked with the stool held defensively in front of her.

"No need to be afraid, mademoiselle. I just came to come and situate you into your new chambers." The voice friendly spoke.

"Chambers?" Christine asked as she crept towards the door. In the ray of light, she saw the shadowy outline of the man speaking to her.

"What? Did you honestly think that 'once this door closes, it will never open again'? I must tell you, our master sometimes tends to be a bit overdramatic." Christine finally peeked out of the cell, but the man speaking was nowhere in sight.

"Up here, Mademoiselle!" The voice said from her left. As she looked up, she saw the golden candelabra dangling from the lever. However, it looked as if it just came alive. The candelabra waved at her with one of it's candles. "Nice to finally meet you, miss."

Christine gasped. As the candelabra jumped down, she took her aim and threw the stool at it, making the stool shatter. However, the candelabra quickly recovered, lighting up one of it's candles and igniting the other two with it.

"You are quite strong, mademoiselle." The candelabra commented as it slowly got out from under the stool, kicking a few bigger splinters on the floor away with it's legs.

"What are you?" Christine asked, her brown eyes wide.

"My name is Richard Firmin and I am a servant in this castle. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The candelabra bowed to her.

"And you can talk?" Christine was definitely spooked at that point.

"Of course he can talk." A second voice came from the staircase. Christine's eyes grew even wider as she spotted the mantel clock clumsily climb up the stairs. "That is all he ever does." The clock added.

Christine quickly went back inside the cell, looking for something other to defend herself.The only other object that she could pick up was a metal jug, presumably for water.

Outside the cell, the clock and candelabra argued, their voices hushed.

"Richard, I request you close the cell door immediately!" The clock spoke.

The candelabra banged it's left candle onto the top of the clock. "But what if she's the one? Huh? What then? What do you want to be for the rest of your life, Gilles: a man or a mantel clock?"

"Mademoiselle, if you'll follow us, we'll show you to your new bedroom." The candelabra spoke to Christine, who now peeked out from the cell.

Shyly, Christine followed the clock, who walked in front of her and lit her way up with the candelabra, who was constantly talking.

"If I may ask you, then what shall I call both of you?" Christine asked. "Because, you know, both of you can very obviously talk and have a mind of your own. So, I would find it somewhat inappropriate to just call you 'candelabra' and 'mantel clock'"

"Well, as I stated before, my name is Richard Firmin. And his name is Gilles Andre. But you can just call us by our surnames." Firmin spoke as they neared a set of double doors at an end of a very beautiful looking hallway. "Looks like we are here. Excuse us if it is a bit too modest."

Christine opened the door and her eyes lit up with wonder. The entire room was in the shades of mint and pastel pink with a beautiful frescoe of angels decorating the ceiling. In the middle of the room was a giant canopy bed, onto which Firmin immediately jumped, only to make a giant cloud of dust fly up into the air.

"However, we didn't expect any guests." Andre commented as he watched his friend try to wave off the dust cloud.

Christine felt a soft gust of wind fly by her left ear, only to discover a beautiful white feather duster with the handle in the shape of a swan float by her.

"Welcome, mademoiselle." The feather duster chirped. "Don't worry. I'll tidy up in no time."

She foated around the bed until she landed next to Firmin, who tried to give her a hug. She, however, pushed him away with one of her wings. "Richard, please, remember that you could burn me. You have to keep your distance."

"But how can I be away from you, when I am weak without you, my dear Sorelli?" Said Firmin passionatly. Andre loudly caughed, disrupting the duo's romantic moment.

"Is every object here alive?" Christine wondered as she picked up a hairbrush from the table. "Hello. Who are you?" She asked as she rotated the hairbrush around, looking for a face.

"That is just an inanimate hairbrush, mademoiselle." Andre said as Sorelli giggled.

Christine went further around the walls of the room, stopping by a giant wardrobe. The wardrobe's door suddenly opened, emitting a high pitched operatic shriek. Christine backed away in shock.

"You don't have to be afraid, miss. This is just your wardrobe, madame Carlotta Guidicelli. A big opera star back in her day." Firmin reassured her.

"Firmin, a diva needs her beauty sleep!" Carlotta complained as she yawned.

"I am sorry to interrupt your sleep, madame, but someone here needs a new dress" Firmin's comment immediately woke Carlotta up.

"Oh, a real woman!" Carlotta skidded towards Christine, her two golden hands reaching up to her face, pinching her cheeks. "A sweet face, bright eyes, beautiful hair...the perfect canvas! Don't worry, honey, I'll find you something worthy of a princess."

"But I am not a princess, madame." Christine argued.

"Nonsense, dearie. Every girl needs to treat herself like one. Now let's see what is in my drawers." She opened the bottom drawer only to reveal a swarm of moths to fly out. "Oh, so embarrassing."

Afterwards, Carlotta put a giant hoopskirt over Christine's head, entwining strip after strip of fabric around it. Finally, she placed a powdered white wig onto Christine's head, finishing her masterpiece.

The dress, or it can even be called that, was one garish shade of pink fabric on another, bows and frills everywhere. The wig stood on Christine's curls in an awkward angle.

"It definitely is a masterpiece, madame." Firmin said as he backed away towards the door.

"Why, thank you, Firmin. Greet Ubaldo for me." After that, Carlotta fell asleep once again.

Christine threw the powdered wig onto the floor, somehow finding her way out of the dress. She glanced out the nearest window, noticing how high up her room was. She glanced back at the dress. And at that moment, she didn't see it as a clothing article, but a pile, which could be made into a makeshift rope. A way towards freedom was gazing right at her.