A/N: I want to thank everyone for all of the reviews I have been getting. It's been a few days but I'm finally getting to sitting down and writing the next part of the story! Yay! Also I changed the title because I think it's more fitting to where I want the story to go.

Was this a romantic gesture? No of course not it was a trick! Or was it? Jasmine didn't know what to think. She didn't even know if she wanted to read the note. Would she let her curiosity get the best of her, or would she basically annoy the Count by not reading it at all? Would this even upset him? A single flower with a single note had unearthed so many questions in Jasmines mind and heart that she felt sick to her stomach. Confusion was not something that she dealt with very well.

She carefully unpinned the note from the stem of the rose and picked open the envelope. Jasmine didn't know what to expect, and yet what she read wasn't anything like what she had expected. It read:

Time is a funny thing,

When it flies on a broken wing.

When it never passes and never ends,

And time is a funny thing.

Forget everything that you have been told,

The rumors of new and the stories of old.

For within this castle lies not a monster,

And time is a funny thing.

What awaits is not a beast of hell,

But a lover has broken in his own shell.

For you awaits a trying journey.

And time is a funny thing.

A sterling treasure is where you shall begin,

A book of gold that goes untold lies hidden far within.

To find the item and to seek the prize,

You must look into these cyan eyes.

But watch the rhythm of the clock,

And time is a funny thing.

Next find a place with memories lost,

Even at the highest cost.

And soon your prince shall emerge,

But time is a precious thing.

A riddle? The last thing she had expected was a riddle. What did Dracula want her here for? What was her purpose in his scheme? What was his scheme? The confusion began to set in again. She read the note over a few more times but still did not understand exactly what it meant. She knew she was supposed to help Dracula… but with what? And how? And why her?

A sudden grumble in her abdomen told her that now was not the time to wonder about this riddle. Another riddle had arisen. Where was she to get food?

A/N: Shelly and I both wrote this poem. And I know this chapter was short but the only thing that was really important in it was the note.