I'm sorry I'm late. Let's just say that it has been a rough time for me. I dedicate this chapter and the next one to my great-grandmother, who has recently passed away, but who was always there for me. This chapter will be relatively short compared to the others, but the next one will follow shortly, since they actually were one chapter that was too long to post. I hope you will enjoy it.

Christine's POV

"Do we really have to?"

"Yes, you know we do or your mother will have our head. I don't know about you, but I quite like it where it is."

I quirked an eyebrow at the groaning Meg and tried to hide the growing grin on my face.

"But it's so… so… ugh!"

"I know, that is why we need to clean this room. Have you slept very badly last night or could it be that the return of a certain family ruined your perfect week?"

She started sputtering and her cheeks became red.

"It's just… oh… you know. You are really going to make me say it aren't you? Oh, alright. Now that Monsieur Dubois and his sons have returned, Alain won't be eating with us anymore", she pouted.

I couldn't help myself and laughed.

"And you really think that will stop him from visiting you? One would not be able to keep him away, even if they tried to beat him with a stick."

"Really?"

"Really. Aren't you supposed to be the confident one of the two of us?"

"Oh, just shut up Christine. Let's clean this dustpalace", she said and stepped into the room.

I smirked and followed her into the room. We were cleaning the upper level of the house and its condition was even worse than the first room we had cleaned together. I put the buckets of water that I had been carrying down and looked at the surrounding mess.

I sighed, "The faster we start the faster we'll be able to leave this room."

Meg agreed with me and together we started to clean the chamber that had not been entered for more than 5 years. We took away the cloths, with which the sparse furniture was covered, and put them in the hall, very carefully so we wouldn't cause a dust cloud.

As soon as we had those out of our way, we put our hands to good use and got busy. I was dusting of an old discoloured mirror that towered above me. When the worst of the dirt was removed, I got a good look at myself and I realised that it had been quite a while since I had last looked into a mirror, really looked. I used this opportunity to do so, but my hands did not stop working.

I had filled out nicely. My cheeks were no longer sunken in, but round and blushing, my hair looked thick and healthy again, my arms were stronger and my waist was no longer too thin. Filled out nicely, indeed. Perhaps a tiny bit too much, but the memory of hunger was still rather fresh and I could not help but love my new figure. I looked like myself, before my papa had died.

That thought made me quite cheerful and I started smiling. I gave the mirror one last swipe and turned to the large wooden armoire that was standing in the nearby corner. Its carvings depicted swirling motives and fairy tale animals. In one of the corners of the wooden panel I saw the image of a troll. I touched it softly and sighed. It reminded me of home. I started humming the piece my father had always hummed for me when I was little, when he was looking for me when we played hide and seek. He had not done so anymore after my mother's passing. In my mind I saw Peer Gynt fleeing for the trolls, running for his life.

I frowned, it was a bit distressing actually, so I switched to a merrier folksong my father had played on his violin. It seemed as if the cleaning went a lot faster now and I was starting to enjoy myself, when suddenly…

"You never told me you could sing!", yelled a very active Meg in right ear.

I jumped and shakily breathed out.

"Why did you stop?"

I shot her a glare.

"Oh, I don't know. Could it possibly be because you almost gave a heart attack?"

She grinned in apology.

"You could also see it as payback for making me flustered earlier."

I couldn't help it, I was smiling again.

"Fine then. We should get back to work now, we're almost finished. We did it faster than I thought we would."

"That's because a certain someone did a certain something and this person is hoping that that someone will continue. Please? Could you sing the one about the shepherdess?"

I thought about it. I had not sung in months and while it felt almost wrong, it had also made me feel better. Meg's dark eyes pleaded.

"There are an awful lot of songs about shepherdesses. Could you be a bit more specific?"

Meg beamed at me.

"The one about the girl asking her mother what she should do about the most perfect shepherd who loves her!*"

"Romantic are we? Fine."

I started singing again. Tentatively at first, but louder after Meg's uhm… not so much in tune voice… joined me. She even went as far as to mimic the girl in the song and it did not take long before I doubled up with laughter.

"That would be enough to make the shepherd decide to make a run for it!", I gasped.

She smacked me on the head and sighed dramatically: "Some will never appreciate real talent."

I smirked.

"Seems as if we're done here. Want to go down for lunch? Clémaine has freshly baked bread."

"Sure", I answered.

Madame Giry came to find us in the afternoon and frowned when she saw us talking by the fire. We had been sitting there for about two hours. After lunch, we had helped a pleasantly surprised Clémaine with the dishes, since our work for the day was done. She had been telling me some French fairy tales in the hopes of convincing me to tell one of the dark ones my father had told me when I was small. They were quite dark and nothing like the ones a friendly lady, where I had been staying with my papa, had told me when my father had gone out to play and forbidden me to come. I had a cold and the lady had tried to cheer me up.

The tales Meg told me, were the same, but a lot more gruesome than the version I had been told back then. The girl who slept in the ashes was pecked by her mother in bird form until she bled, to make her dance more lively, the sisters had to cut off a toe and a heel and in the end the bird pecked out their eyes. The girl who slept for a hundred years woke up after giving birth to twins who sucked the splinter out of her hand…

I was fascinated. These were more like the tales I had been told in my youth and I enjoyed every second of them, but I refused to tell her any of the ones I knew. She insisted though.

I was saved by the arrival of Madame Giry, who looked very displeased.

"I thought I asked you to clean the de-la-forest-room?"

Meg appeared to have suddenly lost her tongue, so I shifted and cleared my throat awkwardly.

A pair of piercing eyes turned my way and I started fidgeting.

"We have already done so, we're finished for today", I answered.

"Meg?"

"It's true maman. We have worked very hard this morning."

Madame Giry's face relaxed and I did the same.

"Very well then. Christine dear, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to help me with one of my tasks. It appears that Meg's and my help is needed at Monsieur Dubois' and a certain young man is convinced that only Meg and I are able to help them."

Meg flushed instantly, but I could see that she had a very hard time to keep from smiling like the lovesick girl she was.

I replied quickly.

"No problem, Madame. What would you like me to do?"

I regretted it almost immediately.

"Could you bring the Master his tea?"

"The Master?"

"Yes, child. Could you?"

I couldn't refuse, so I nodded my head and mentally cursed myself.

"Where can I find him, Madame?"

"He can usually be found in the library at this hour. He likes his tea black and very hot, no milk are sugar."

"Alright," I said.

My dear readers, I hope you all enjoyed reading this new chapter. The next chapter will (finally) show Erik and Christine's (real) first meeting. As you know, I appreciate reviews a lot.

Until next time and with all my love,

LoreLorelei

*Maman dites-moi