She opened her eyes and sat up in bed, frowning as she looked around at her room. She got out and walked out of the room and to the door she knew led to the attic. Her mother had told her never to go into the attic, yet she had to check-just to see if she had imagined everything….

She reached out and tried the knob, frowning at it when she saw that it was locked. Her shoulders fell, realizing that she couldn't have gotten into the room if it was locked.

"Adellade Destler, what are you doing?"

She turned, seeing her mother there, eyeing her.

"Nothing," she lied.

"Haven't I told you to never go up into the attic? You could injure yourself!"

"Yes, maman."

"Now, come downstairs for breakfast before your lessons begin!"

She sighed and reluctantly followed her mother down the stairs. It had been a dream, hadn't it?

He sat by the door, listening to the sounds of retreating footsteps. Of course he had locked the door! It was better if he did. That way she wouldn't know that he had gone out in the night. Then he had forgotten to lock it back up, and Adellade had gotten in last night….

She wasn't as terrible as the others. She was still young and innocent, and could still look at him as a person rather than a monster that deserved to be locked away up in the attic.

Minutes ticked by before he heard the sound of the front door opening and closing as she went out to play for a bit. Heavy footsteps sounded and he moved to the cot, throwing the sheet over himself as a key was forced into the lock and the door thrown open.

"Get up!" she shouted at him. "If I am to bring you food, the least you could do is be grateful for it!"

He got to his feet and nodded. She tossed the plate of scraps onto the floor and grabbed his arm.

"And you would do well to remember your rules," she hissed into his face. "Or else you'll be out on the street no matter what people may think!"

He nodded. She turned and left, slamming the door behind her and locking it before heading down the stairs.

Erik sighed and sat before the plate, picking at the food (he had learned to make the most of his few meals last).

Remember your rules.

He went over them inside his head. Don't take off the mask for any reason at all. Don't ever leave the attic. Don't interact with Adellade.

His fingers twisted the crust of bread at the last one. He tossed it onto the plate and went over to the window, peering between the boards at the garden below.

She was walking there in a clean dress, kneeling occasionally to pick up one of the flowers. The hem of her skirt was getting slightly muddy, yet she didn't seem to care. He watched her as he had done so many times before.

She had grown into a pretty little thing over the years. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, fair complexion. The way she held herself though held traces of her mother's grooming-a straight posture, light steps. Everything a lady should be.

Don't interact with Adellade.

He touched his mask. She was beautiful….and him? He was a monster. He knew why they kept him away from her. They were afraid that he could make her into a monster as well…. That he could hurt her.

Then again: she could be the only friend you ever have, a small voice whispered at the back of his mind.

He sighed and moved away from the window, finding a page in one of the books to write a quick message on. He picked the lock and opened the door, listening for signs of other activity. He crept out on silent feet and made his way over to her room, slipping the paper where she would be most likely to find it before they did. He returned to the attic and locked the door behind him, settling himself to one of his books….

She laid in bed, waiting until they had gone to sleep. She stood and grabbed her robe, throwing it on top of her nightgown as she opened the door to head toward the attic. She reached for the doorknob held her breath, sighing with relief as it opened. She closed it behind her and grinned when she saw him.

"Monsieur Erik!" she whispered, running over to hug him. "I knew you were real!"

He grunted as she toppled him onto the floor. "I see you got my message."

She pulled herself off him and tilted her head. "But why does maman keep the door locked in the morning? Doesn't she let you out?"

"I am surrounded by my books." He gestured around at the boxes. "What more could I require than a world of books? Outside, you are limited by the fence surrounding the garden. Why, in here, I can travel across the seas to see plays or fight bandits or even explore the human anatomy all without leaving this very room!"

"Can you teach me, monsieur Erik?"

"Teach you?"

She nodded. "I haven't learned very much. Can you teach me to read the books the way you do? Please?"

He grinned. "Where would you like to travel first, mademoiselle Adellade?"

She sat in the sitting room, sucking the finger she had just pricked on a needle.

"And what might you be sewing, my dear?" her mother asked.

"A doll."

"You are too old to play with such things! Why, at your age of six years, I was doing so much more than simply playing with dolls!"

"Let her do what she wishes, Madeline," her father excused. "She can only be a child for so long. Why, if you want her to be able to do something other than play with dolls, have her learn to play an instrument!"

"Please, maman?" she begged. "Can I learn to play?"

"Why, I even have just the thing lying around here somewhere." He stood and returned with a case in his hands.

"What is it, papa?"

"Why don't you open and see?"

She did and eyed it.

"My own violin for your using."

"It's wonderful!" she stood and hugged him.

"A young lady such as herself should be singing or playing piano! Not the violin, Charles!" her mother argued.

"Let her try, Madeline. See how happy she is?"

He looked up as the door opened. "Adellade. What is it?"

"Papa...he gave me this." She held out the violin toward him. "Only-I don't know how to play. I was wondering...if maybe you did...if maybe you could teach me how to play?"

"Something such as this requires a tutor. Surely they have found one for you?"

"They have," she admitted. "But every tutor they've found-I haven't liked. They're all so boring! But if you teach me, then I know it won't be boring."

"If I teach you, then you will wake them."

"Oh." Her shoulders fell as she took the violin back, handing something else to him. "I made you this."

"You made me this?" He took it from her, eyeing it.

"I know it's not the best thing ever," she began, "but I am still learning, and a needle is really hard! Really, very hard! I did try my best though-to make it look like a doll. At least, that's what I was trying to make, since you don't have any up here to play with…. Do you-do you like it?"

He nodded and she smiled. "Indeed. It is a lovely doll. However…."

Her face fell as he held it up. "What?"

"...I cannot accept if it does not have a name. In order to be a proper doll, it must have a name, wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh yes! Very much so!" The smile returned. "But what should it be named?"

He frowned, eyeing the doll in his hands. It wasn't much, but there was still something of a face painted on, brown curls, and even a pink dress a bit too big for the doll itself.

"Christine?" she asked. "I think there's a girl who lives somewhere close to here that's named Christine."

"Then Christine it is." He gently set her by the window. "There. She can watch you when you play in the garden."

"I know!" She ran out of the attic and returned holding a pair of wings and a crown. She set them on Christine and stood back. "There! She's supposed to look like an angel, but I think we can just pretend, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Christine the Angel! She can keep you company so you don't have to be afraid of your monster!" She grinned, going over to the boxes. "What book tonight?"

Morning came and he sighed, looking at the doll. He undid the strings of his mask and removed it, seeing if the doll seemed to change its expression. He picked her up and held her in his hands, sitting with his legs folded underneath him.

"If you are an angel, then do you fear me?" he asked. "Do you fear the monster Erik is?"