Prolouge

It's dark out, but I know my way around these gardens. My bare feet picked up speed as they found that familiar stone path that led to the great oak tree. The moon was covered by clouds allowing my feet to have eyes. When I make it to the tree I grab the nearest branch and start to lift my body up towards the dark sky. I know this tree as well as I know my own body, so climbing it was natural. Sitting on the highest branch I could reach, my breaches comforting my legs against the rough bark, I'm sweating now. After the party and dancing with countless boring men, I was exhausted, but the peace of my old friend was worth the climb. These were the moments of the day I loved the most. Sitting here in the very spot the Mistings found me and took me in as their own. My mother and I had come to London 13 years ago looking for a doctor. She had been sick for as long as I could remember. Doctors kicked us out because she was gypsy, and gyspsys were said to only own stolen money. I was six years old when I held her hand as she took her last remaining breaths of life. I wanted to cry, but she had taught me that people can use your tears against you. I took out the heart shaped locket with a picture of her holding me as a baby, the other side had a blurry picture of a man I'd never met, my father. A day hasn't gone by that I don't wear it or have it with me. Esmera, my mother, used to always tell me stories of far off lands. Places with huge forests and flowing rivers and beaches. She had traveled all over the country, but when she had me her health began to fail, so our caravan stayed around the London city. My mother had the boys teach me how to climb trees since she was to frail to climb so high. We usually stayed in the tree areas away from people, though I had always wanted to meet the the glittery people traveling in their shiny carriages with the beautiful angelic horses that reminded me of the myth of Pegasus, just without the wings. I would pester the old people of our caravan about the glittery people, I figured they would know more, but they were also easy targets because they couldn't run away from me. Most of the time they were mute on the topic and I would walk away with a piece of bread instead information. One night I was sitting on Gran's lap nibbling on some toffee that she had traded for from a passing caravan. It was divine! I had never tasted anything so sweet but tough. I pestered her and snuggled her till finally she broke! Telling me stories of the people in "High Society," Apparently the Glittery people were known as Lady's and Gentlemen. I sat on her lap with eyes wide, fascinated, with the images in my head of shinning tall houses, the women with perfectly done hair and sparkly dresses and shoes. I never knew anything about being a lady, not like now.
When my mother went to try and find a doctor, Gran was supposed to keep me with the caravan, I followed. Mother tried to be angry, but instead she took my hand and thanked me. I didn't know that this was walk through the alleys in London would be my last adventure with her. My mother and I were walking companions, she believed that walking clears the mind and allows you to think beyond what your eyes can see. She felt the same way about trees, even at my young age I could tell that she longed to climb the trees, feel the strong trunk and the beautiful branches, her stairway to the sky. The freedom of the sky was heaven to us, but London was so scary, I'm alone, and I didn't know my way back to the caravan, and Gran.
 When the Mistings found me in their tree they decided to give me a home and a proper education. They had no children and Mrs. Mistings had always wanted a little girl. I started my education to become a lady of London right away, since I was six I had a lot to learn, and the other children of the neighbourhood were far ahead of me, but I picked it up quick. It was like I was born with it. Not only was I becoming a lady of London, I was becoming a high lady of London. The Mistings were relatives of the royal family, nothing close to the throne, but still recognized. I grew to love Mr. & Mrs. Mistings as my mother and father. And when I was eight years old they had a son, Robby. He is such a sweet little thing, annoying, but still sweet. They also buried Esmera in their family grave yard, so I could see her whenever I wanted. Though in order to keep me, the stone was blank. The Mistings told the story that I was a third cousins child, orphaned due to ammonia. The moon was starting to sink into the sky and I could just barley see the start of the early mornings pink clouds starting to rise. I climb down my tree and sprint back up the path. I always use the servants corridor to get back to my rooms. It was empty at this time. I open the door into my hallway and check to see if anyone was there. Empty. before I went to room, I changed out of my male breaches, which I had stolen from the clothing line, and tucked them beneath my bed, slipped on my night gown and dashed quietly to my rooms. One hand on the locket.