A/N: This is my first story submitted on here so I hope everyone enjoys it. More work of mine can be found on Quizilla. The link is one my homepage. As well I drew a picture of Rosaire the link is also on my homepage. Please Enjoy. I also hope Rose isn't a Mary Sue..

Prologue

It was five years ago, but it only seems like it was yesterday, when my parents left home, and never returned. I don't know what happened. They just never came back. I was 15 then. At the time I thought I had been abandoned, I hadn't known the story of how Gypsies were being captured and murdered. That was why we left Paris, my birth place.

From the stories I was told I had only lived there for four and a half years. We had left Paris to Russia eight weeks before my fifth birthday. We traveled in a small caravan, to Russia. We set up our caravan on the country side, by a small river. We were never bothered by any townspeople, and my father actually found work in the marketplace close to our caravan. We had enough money to put food on the table and feed us all.

My mother was a very beautiful dancer and if my father ever fell ill she danced in the marketplace for money. She taught me how to dance, but I really actually prefered singing. I usually helped my mother with laundry. I would bring the dirty linens to the river and hummed unfamiliar tunes as I worked. As I grew I learned old folk songs I heard around the marketplace. A Old plump woman by the name of Madam Lefevre used to teach me. She was very fond of children, and had no problem with gypsies. Others in town were not so nice. Many parents had shooed me away from playing with their offspring when I was younger. I used to sing for money. I made a good profit off it, and I was happy I could use the money to help at home.

It was only after my father was fired for stealing that I found how hard it was to live without incoming money. Of course my father hadn't actually stolen from the shop, but who was going to believe a couple of gypsies. Me and my mother had to work much harder to earn money for us. While she danced in the market place I helped my father around the caravan.

When my mother came down with an illness, it put a huge dent in our family and I was the one who brought the money in. My father took my mother to find a doctor because she wasn't getting better. I could take care of myself and they need someone to watch over the caravan. They never came home.

It was Madam Lefevre who told me that many gypsies were being captured and warned me that I should leave here before they caught us. She bid my parents good fortune, but little did she know that they had never returned from the doctors, or if the even got there. I packed up the caravan, saddled Marion, our mare Palomino, and left as fast as I could. I traveled at a slow pace but I soon realized how much a dead give away the caravan would be. I unhooked Marion from the caravan grabbed a large sack and packed it with my general necessities. I attached the sack to Marion's saddle, mounted her and road off leaving the caravan behind. I never once looked back, knowing that if I did I don't think I would have been able to keep going.

My name is Rosaire Follet, and I am a gypsy in search of the one place where I know I'll be safe. The Court of Miracles, in Paris, the city i was born in.