"Where are you taking me?" Carmen asked as they reached the door leading to the church. She pulled to a stop as her knees started to shake. His hand loosened slightly against hers, but did not let go. Even through the worn leather, she could feel the heat radiating from his fingers. They were shorted than Clopin's, Carmen noticed.

"It's getting late," Phoebus said, slightly confused. "You'll need someone to walk you home. Which way?"

Carmen ripped her hand away and stormed into the silent church. "I'm not telling you where the Court of Miracles is!"

Phoebus hurried after Carmen as she stormed to the front doors. He slammed his hand against the heavy wood before she could leave. "You're a gypsy?"

Carmen laughed shortly. "You could say that."

"It's a simple question."

"With no simple answer."

Phoebus pushed the door open and placed Carmen's hand on his elbow as he walked by the soldiers. His face was firm, back straight. Carmen looked at the other soldiers with childlike innocence, as if she was just a child coming home from confession.

When they had disappeared down an alley, Phoebus stopped. "I may be kind, but don't mistake that kindness for friendship."

Carmen threw back her head and laughed full and long. She grinned widely at the new captain. "This isn't the time for stories or truths. So, thank you for getting me out of the church safely, but I can get home from here."

She ran.

It was only when she reached the edge of the city that she slowed, glancing around. Soldiers were everywhere it seemed, although it could have just been her own fear playing tricks on her. She crawled through the shadows anyway until she had reached the graveyard. Her fingers ghosted over the iron bars, before she turned away, heading to a tavern nearby.

Knocking on the side window, she held her breath anxiously. Paul swung the window open abruptly, glaring into the dark. Carmen bit her lip. It just had to be him.

"Paul!" Carmen whispered. "Paul, over here! It's me!"

"Carmen!" Paul half shouted. "What are you doing out so late? It's past curfew!"

"I know, I know!" Carmen cried. "Please, just let me in!" Paul glanced behind him and swung the window wide open. Reaching down, he plucked the slim girl up and hauled her inside the back of the tavern. "Can you let me in?"

"Of course!" He laughed, pulling up an oriental style rug to reveal a trap door. "After all, you are the Queen. Haven't you learned to stop asking?"

Wrenching the door open, Carmen started to descend, and then turned back to Paul. "Thank you," She gently touched his cheek with a small smile before running down the steps. Bursting into the Court of Miracles one of the older gypsy women gave a shout of joy. Suddenly her friends and protectors, everyone hugging her tightly, several crying, surrounded her.

"Where were you?" One of them asked.

"What are you wearing?" Asked another.

Carmen smiled. "Everyone! Don't worry! I was held up in the cathedral, no one is searching for me. But where is Esmeralda?"

The gypsies around her fell silent.

"She is with your husband," One of them murmured quietly.

Sighing, Carmen nodded to the gypsies around her, and walked to Clopin's tent. She could hear the cousins' shouting before the rich fabric was even in sight. His home was the most grandiose of all; rich tapestries wrapped around one another, a concoction of blue and gold. After a moment's hesitation, Carmen pushed aside the shawl that covered the entrance.

The two cousins were standing at opposite ends of the home, screaming at one another. "You weren't there," Esmeralda yelled. "You didn't see what I saw!"

"No," Clopin agreed, before his anger got the better of him. "Because I didn't leap onto the platform where everyone, including Frollo, could see me!"

"No, you just decided to stand by and watch!" Esmeralda yelled with an angry gesture. "How, how could you? How could you do that?"

"Because he will tear this city apart for you!" Clopin screamed. He suddenly looked very tired. "To find you. To kill you."

Carmen cut in gently. "There is nothing we can do about the past."

Although neither gypsy jumped, they were both surprised to see her standing there. "How long-?" Clopin started to ask, but Carmen cut him off.

"Clopin," She held her hand up. "We have to plan for the future. It will be a long time before anyone forgets about this. But for now, for the next few days at least, we need to be cautious."

"I'm the one who has to be safe," Esmeralda interrupted. "This doesn't involve anyone but me and Frollo."

"Esme, you put this whole caravan in danger the moment you cut those ropes. The whole city when you called Frollo the King of Fools," Carmen said sharply. "You've seen his wrath before, don't underestimate him. He won't think twice about sparing those who get in his way."

"She's right," Clopin said. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Send out the word for everyone to keep their heads down. Anyone who doesn't need to be on the streets is staying here. We don't need things getting out of hand."

Carmen nodded. Realizing that she was being dismissed, the young woman quickly left the tent, and passed on the word to a burly gypsy man sitting several feet away, whittling. His face grew pale and he immediately abandoned his work, running to a group of gypsies nearby.

She entered her own tent, much smaller and less colorful that Clopin's. It was a little bare, but she hadn't had much since she was a child. There was a bed, which was little more than a sheet stuffed with straw, a small dresser with a bowl for washing on top, and a chest at the foot of her bed with her clothes folded away inside. Inside of the dresser were only a few belongings. A simple comb, several hairpins and ribbons, a short stick of kohl reserved for special occasions, and a dagger that had never been used.

Sighing, she collapsed onto her bed. Sleep was slow in taking her, as thoughts of a kind yet mistreated bell ringer and a handsome military captain filled her mind.