PROLOGUE, 1506…

He didn't like seeing Pierre and Theresa together, and was secretly glad that Pierre was leaving Lyon. René had never really thought of himself to be the jealous type, but he had also never really been in love before. He'd never been married, and his idea about what marriage was seemed vague, though he'd never say this out loud. He had always assumed that marrying a woman meant that it was his primary job to protect her from the advances of other men.

Pierre was certainly not flirting with Theresa; he had his arm draped casually around the waist of a curvy little acrobat whose name René did not know. Theresa was standing about a foot away from him, her hands clasped in front of her. It was apparent that he was only saying goodbye to her, but René still didn't like it.

He went to Theresa and put his hand on her shoulder. She looked at him and smiled. "So you're leaving?" he said, addressing Pierre.

Pierre nodded. "Only for six months or so," he said. "I'll be back whenever the circus passes through." He shifted uneasily and glanced over his shoulder. "I should go see if Hans needs my help," he said. He left quickly, the acrobat skipping after him.

René put his arms around Theresa. He was only somewhat relieved to see Pierre go; he'd feel better if he left Lyon for good. At least Pierre knew that Theresa was no longer his wife. Well, she'd never been his wife to begin with, but at least Pierre acknowledged this. If he harbored any lingering affections for her, he was keeping them well hidden.

René didn't like Pierre. He was a thief, which automatically made him dishonest, and he always seemed to have a snide remark on the edge of his tongue. Lately, Pierre had been quiet and secretive, and this only made René dislike him more. It seemed like Pierre was planning something – something dishonest – and it would undoubtedly involve Theresa in some way.

What if Pierre had changed his mind about her? What if he wanted her back? Seeing him flirting and kissing the acrobat should have shaken the notion from René's mind, but it didn't. Pierre did not seem genuinely interested in the acrobat. René couldn't put his finger on the reason, but Pierre's feelings for the acrobat didn't seem particularly real. This bothered René more than he cared to admit, but Pierre would be leaving in a few hours. He would be gone for six months or more, depending on where the circus went and how much money they made. In six months, Theresa could forget about Pierre, and, hopefully, he would forget about her.

~xXx~

He had not realized that saying goodbye to Giovanni would fill his heart with so much pain. He had known Giovanni his entire life, had loved him for just as long; a world without Giovanni would seem incomplete. Pierre shoved the feelings back and glanced over at Tess. She was walking on her hands, entertaining herself as she waited patiently for him to say his goodbyes.

He did not need to tell himself that what he felt wasn't normal and that separating himself from what tempted him most was the only cure. It didn't make the idea of leaving hurt any less. True, he would also miss his mother and sister, and his friends. He still would miss Giovanni the most. He wondered if Giovanni would miss him, and he waved the thought aside. Of course Giovanni would miss him! They were best friends. Giovanni obviously didn't know – could never know – what Pierre felt in his heart; if he did, he'd be disgusted. He'd want Pierre put to death.

"You really are leaving, then?" asked Giovanni.

Pierre nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"I'll miss you," said Giovanni. He glanced at Tess, and Pierre followed his gaze. She was doing a split now.

Pierre shrugged. "Well, you can see why I'm leaving, though."

"Oh God, yes. If Katarina could do that…"

Pierre laughed. "You two have enough children running around." He searched for Katarina and found her standing with Heracles and his mother. Heracles was holding Dante and Musetta, balancing each child on his shoulder as if they weighed nothing.

Giovanni rolled his eyes, then turned to Pierre. "I'm going to miss you," he said.

"I – I'll miss you too." Giovanni's sudden declaration threw Pierre off-guard. Giovanni had never really discussed his feelings, unless they pertained to Katarina. When he was younger, he'd been capable of singing her praises for hours on end, which had both aggravated and devastated Pierre.

"I mean it," said Giovanni. He patted Pierre's shoulder. "You're my brother."

Pierre felt himself smiling. "You're my brother, too."

Giovanni saw him as a brother, loved him as one, and that somehow warmed Pierre's heart. "I got you a gift." Giovanni was saying. He was handing Pierre a lumpy package wrapped in brown paper.

"You didn't have to," said Pierre. He took the package and stared down at it, unaware that his hands were shaking as he opened it. "You really didn't have to."

Giovanni shrugged. He was watching Tess, who was turning cartwheels. "I hear it gets cold up in Germany."

"It gets cold here too." Pierre lifted a blue coat out of the crumpled paper. It felt thick and heavy, and it warmed him when he put it on. "You didn't have to do this."

Giovanni finally looked at him. "I'll take it back if you really want."

Pierre shook his head. "Thank you," he said. "It's wonderful."

Hans and Frieda had finished packing the tents and wagons. Pierre watched as Tess climbed up into the acrobats' caravan; he'd be living in it with her for the next six months, probably longer. He suddenly didn't want to go, and wished that there was some excuse he could make in order to stay. He didn't want to leave his mother and sister, his friends, or Giovanni. His feet felt heavy, as though they were made of stone, but he went to the caravan.

He turned and waved. He smiled, trying to seem brave and cheerful, as though he truly wanted to leave. "I'll be back before you know it," he called as he climbed up into the caravan. He stood by the window and kept waving as the caravan rolled down the well-worn road.

~xXx~

"René Thénardier?"

The voice was familiar, and made his stomach tighten. He knew that Cosette was supposed to be staying in Lyon, but he had not seen her since her arrival, two months ago. He had almost forgotten her entirely. He turned, hoping that he was wrong about hearing her voice, and came face to face with her.

She was still small and fragile-looking. Her skin was extremely pale, making her blue eyes stand out more than usual. Her curly brown hair was partially hidden by a dark gray shawl. She was plump, but she did not look pregnant; she was supposed to be staying in Lyon until her baby was born, then she would return to Paris.

Her blue eyes, which were normally calm and placid, were bright and full of anger. René took a step backwards. He had not honestly expected to see Cosette in Lyon. She was a delicate young woman. She had spent most of her life indoors, being cultivated and groomed like an exotic plant. She was wealthy enough to send servants to the market in her stead.

"Hello, Cosette." He suddenly wondered if she would recognize Theresa at all. Had she ever seen Theresa? She knew that Jean-Claude had accused a Gypsy of placing a spell on her, but did she know which one? Did she know that Theresa was Jean-Claude's scapegoat? René scanned the marketplace, searching for Theresa, and was simultaneously relieved and panicked when he didn't see her. He had to make sure that Cosette never saw her.

Cosette was still glaring at him. She held a basket in her hands. Its contents were covered by a white cloth. "I hope you are well," said René.

She nodded briskly. "I'm quite well," she said. "Fortunately, there are no witches here in Lyon."

The comment stung him, but he shrugged and tried to act as if it hadn't. "Oh."

Cosette seemed to stand up straighter. "Luckily they do a better job of keeping the Gypsies out of this city than they do in Paris." She looked around.

René was suddenly desperate to find Theresa. He had to find her and make sure that Cosette never saw her. "I need to go," he said, "I'm glad you're in good health." He nodded to Cosette. "I wish you all the best." She did not reply; she only glared as he left her.

He was more than relieved to find Theresa at home. She was standing over the hearth, humming to herself as she stirred something that smelled delicious. He watched her in silence for a moment. She had made herself a red sash with bells on it, and it hung around her hips now. The bells jingled softly as she moved. Her slender body swayed back and forth as she continued humming.

She seemed so happy, so content, and her ease filled the room. It spread to René quickly, reaching in and gripping his heart like an invisible hand. He smiled at her as she turned around. She was surprised to see him, and she ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug. "You're home early," she said, kissing his cheek.

"Am I?"

She nodded. She reached up and ran her hand through his hair. She smelled like flowers and spices, and her feet were bare. She had to stand on her toes to kiss him. He placed his hands on her waist. "Yes," she said, "but I'm not complaining."

He stroked her cheek, savoring the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. When she kissed him again, he closed his eyes and immediately forgot about Jean-Claude, Cosette, and everything else in the world.

…END OF PROLOGUE