Christine froze as she heard his words and felt the knife against her skin. Her dress was soon ripped, and she was about ready to begin fighting when she heard a woman's voice. Turning toward the sound, she frowned at her words.<br/><br/>"I am not a slave, and I do not appreciate you talking about me as if I am not here."<br/><br/>Still, soon she felt another set of hands grab her and carry her up the stairs. Her blindfold was taken off, and a couple of maids untied her before closing and locking the door. There was a burly man in the room as well, and he would put down any rebellions, as well as holding her still while the women washed her. It took a while and a lot of effort, but soon she was clean and smelling wonderful. Her red curl dried in ringlets around her face, and they dressed her in a thin chemise that was hardly modest.<br/><br/>After that, they led her into a room and locked the door, leaving her alone.