Christine opened her eyes only to realize that she was inside a dream. She stood in the middle of a beautiful garden in the night. The moon shone brightly and mist covered the ground. The moonlight was caught in the flowing water of a fountain and in the small drops of water resting on the petals of roses surrounding Christine. She was even dressed in a long fairytale-like white dress with a giant skirt.

Suddenly, a bit far off, Christine saw a figure. Not hesitating, Christine eagerly walked towards them. As she got closer, she could make out details of the figure. It was a tall, quite well-built man dressed in very expensive-looking clothes, gazing at the pale moon.

Christine all of a sudden stepped on a twig, the piece of wood cracking underneath her slipper and letting out a sharp sound. As soon as the cracking sound was heard, the dream scene around her started to disappear into blackness, Christine feeling as if she was falling. Before the blackness completely enveloped her, she caught glimpse of the eyes of that man, who has now turned to look at her. His eyes were light blue and strangely familiar...

Christine awoke with a gasp. "Some weird dream that was." She murmed as she hopped off her bed and went to change her clothes. However, instead of her normal blue dress, she found a dress of the same style only with a white bodice with small red flowers on it, a white apron and a light blue skirt. And instead of her old leather shoes, she had a pair of blue slippers prepared.

"A little something I put together for you during the night." Carlotta spoke, startling Christine. "I did see your quite negative reaction to my last dress, so I thought that making you something like your clothes, only a different color, would perhaps be better. And after all, you did need to change clothes."

Christine thanked the wardrobe, quickly putting on her dress and exiting into the kitchen. There, she already had a prepared breakfast and an another platter for the castle's master.

After Christine finished with her breakfast, she took the other breakfast to the west wing. Meg sat on the platter on a rolled up napkin, since she insisted to come.

As she entered his room, Christine put down the platter on the nearest table and went to the bed, where her captor laid sleeping. 'Is it fair to call him "my captor"? After all, he did save my life. It would be too harsh to call him that.' Christine thought as she carefully removed his old bandages and replaced them.

Christine was so concentrated on replacing the bandages, that she didn't even notice all the servants come into the room and stop at the end of the bed, quietly observing her.

After her job was done, Christine checked the castle master's forehead for any signs of fever, but she was relieved to find it quite cool to the touch. She also swore that as soon as she touched his forehead, a small smile appeared on his face.

She turned towards the servants, only for her eyes to land on the rose in the glass case. It looked a lot more withered, it's red petals looking a but more dull than the last evening.

"What happens when the last petal of that rose falls?" Christine asked Madame Giry. Their master protected it so furiously last night, so she would imagine that he wanted no harm to meet the flower.

"Our master remains in his current state forever." Firmin answered. Then, he hung his head "And we become...antiques."

"Knick-knacks." Madame Giry added.

"Tidying tools." Sorelli flew around Madame Giry and landed on the pillow at the foot of the bed, next to Christine.

"Garbage. We will all become garbage." Andre muttred.

"I want to help you." Christine declared bravely. "Is there some way you know, that the curse could be broken?"

"Well, there is a way..." Andre started to speak, but Firmin shushed him with one of his candle hands.

"Don't worry about it, darling." Madame said. "We've made our bed and now, we must lie in it."

Christine lifted her eyes once again towards the rose, only to witness one of it's petals falling, becoming dark brown and shriveled once it touched the bottom of it's case.

The entire castle started to rumble, small chunks of debris falling off of it's facade.

"I think we best go." Firmin said as he took Sorelli around the waist with his arm. Andre went after them, leaving Madame Giry behind. As she was preparing to leave as well, Christine stopped her.

"Madame," she asked shyly, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Christine, ask me anything." Madame smiled at her.

"What is your master's name?" Christine blurted out. "It's not like I want to invade his privacy, but I feel like after what happened last night, I don't have anything to call him."

"That's completely fine, dear." Madame replied. "His name is Erik."

"Erik." Christine whispered as she glanced at the man, for whom she now had a name.

Madame Giry left the room together with Meg, who decided to take a nap on her trolley, leaving the two alone.

Christine once again sat down at the side of Erik's bed, observing the slow fall and rise of his chest. As she did observe him some more, she came to the final conclusion, that in daylight and when he wasn't angry or hadn't a sour expression on his face, that the deformity he bore wasn't all that scary. She carefully stretched out her little hand and put it into his, feeling an odd sense of warmth inside her chest.

She could feel Erik lightly squeezing her hand in sleep, the twig-thin and pale fingers closing around her hand. Scars ran all the way from his fingertips and Christine caringly and softly ran her thumb along the discolored lines.