Marie-Élise abhorred the Nazi treatment of her beloved City of Lights. Ignorant and lacking a civilized culture, their marring of what had once been a beautiful, simple observation floor typified this fact. But for once, she had no focus for the gaudy ugliness the Germans scattered about their rooms and called art. Instead, her mind was screaming ‘no’ again and again with each step that drew her closer to the monster that occupied the dark heart of this castle.<br/><br/>Mothers frightened children with the man’s name. Pregnant women were said to miscarry if brought into his presence. They said if he walked across the grass, blackened footprints were left behind. While, she didn’t really believe the tangled knot of superstitious rumors that revolved around this man like an ugly halo of flies, she did know that there was something twisted and evil about him. Briefly, a flicker of hope was raised when the fat German General Straab spoke, only to be snuffed out a moment later when the guard made clear she was destined to meet Eckhart himself. As the guardswoman lead Marie-Élise step by step closer, her face paled and she felt a sharp pain in her side. When the strapping female guard practically dragged her onto the elevator, the girl wondered if she might be having a heart attack.<br/><br/>When the seamstress finally stood before the general, the female heel-clicker sharply reported. Marie-Élise’s schoolgirl German was poor and thickly accented. But she knew enough to understand that the guard would remain outside in case of some undefined event. As the neatly dressed girl stood before the German general he could smell vanilla—the scent she dabbed on, because her ration card did not stretch to actual perfume—and stark fear. There was no disguising the fact that General Eckhart terrified her.  She nodded in a series of sharp head jerks when asked if she were the apprentice of Jean-Paul. It took several seconds, before she managed to croak out the word, “Yes.”