Rosangela: The Half-Blood Princess

As soon as Ivan left, I leapt out of the bed and strode to the door. I tried the door, but it was locked from the outside.

Sighing, I leaned my back against the door.

'Mom, I’m scared. Why does it have to happen to me again? Why are there so many people who want to kidnap me?' I asked myself sadly.

I touched my chest, trying to clutch at my locket like what I always did every time I felt scared or nervous. But to my surprise, the locket wasn’t there.

“Oh my God, where is my locket?” I began to panic.

I remembered that I put the locket in the secret pocket of my ballgown before going to the ball. So I hoped it still there.

I ran to the dressing table and pulled out my ballgown from the paper bag. I checked the pocket, but I couldn’t find my locket there.

I spilled all of the contents of the paper bag on to the dressing table. But I didn’t see my locket. There were only my high heels, tiara, earings, and engagement ring.

'Oh no! Where is my locket? Did it fall? Or did my kidnappers steal it?' I asked inwardly.

'Oh God, what shall I do now? It’s the only thing that my mother left for me. But now I’ve lost it.' Tears started streaming down my face.

“Are you looking for this?” someone suddenly asked.

I swung back and saw Ivan standing at the doorway, holding up my locket.

I ran at him and twitched the locket out of his hands. “You shouldn’t have stolen my locket.”

“I didn’t intend to steal your locket, Mirabelle. It fell from your ballgown, so I want to give it back to you now,” he explained.

“Do you think I will believe you?” I put my hands on my hips.

“I don’t ask you to trust me. But you have to know, Mirabelle. I never want to steal your locket. I know how much it means to you. Because it’s from your mother, right?”

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “How do know that it belonged to my mother? I don’t remember telling you about my locket before.

“I know about the locket because your mother had ever told me about it,” he reasoned.

His explanation made sense, but I had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“Who are you exactly, Ivan? Why do you seem to know my mother very well?” I queried curiously.

My questions clearly stunned him, but he quickly recovered himself.

“Of course, I knew her very well because she was a good friend of mine,” he said.

“Liar! I know you’re more than just a friend of my mother’s. So tell me who you are exactly, Ivan!” I demanded.

“I am... I am...” Ivan hesitated.

“Ah I’m glad you’re finally awake, Princess,” someone chimed in.

“Who are you?” I inquired the blond man who just barged into this room.

The man seemed to be in his early twenties. He was good looking, fair-skinned, tall, lean, and muscular.

“Oh sorry. How rude of me not to introduce myself to you! Hi, my name is Randolph Wolfgang.” He held out his hand to me.

I just stared at his hand, didn’t want to shake it.

Knowing I wouldn’t shake his hand, Randolph quickly withdrew his hand in disappointment.

“Wolfgang? So you two are brothers?” I asked with a sneer in my voice.

“Yeah, sort of,” he replied with a shrug.

'I can’t believe it! I’m being kidnapped by a psycho family,' I thought.

“Go freshen up now, Mirabelle! After that, go downstairs! We’ll have breakfast together,” Ivan told me.

Before I could respond, Ivan said, “Come on, Randolph, let’s go!”

Ivan wrapped his arm around Randolph’s shoulders and then dragged him out of this bedroom.

Before closing the door, Randolph said to me, “I’ll be back to check on you, Princess.”

Knowing Ivan and Randolph could come back here anytime, I hurriedly went to the bathroom and had a quick shower.

Wrapping a towel around my body, I returned to the bedroom and headed straight to the wardrobe.

Opening the wardrobe door, I was quite surprised to find that it filled with female clothing. The clothes looked a little bit old-fashioned, but they all were still in perfect condition.

I pulled out a faded pair of blue jeans and a red shirt with blue stripes, and quickly wore them. After that, I took a pair of slippers from the wardrobe and put it on.

Just after I finished getting dressed someone knocked on the door.

“Are you done, Mirabelle?” asked Ivan from the other side of the door.

“Just a minute!” I responded.

I took a hairbrush from the dressing table and started brushing my hair carefully. At last, I tied my long brown hair back into a ponytail.

Once finished, I shouted, “I’m done.”

Ivan lastly opened the bedroom door and stepped in.

“Wow you look beautiful, Mirabelle! The clothes really suit you,” he commented.

“I won’t thank my kidnapper,” I retorted.

“You don’t have to,” he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes at him.

“Come on, breakfast is almost ready,” he said.

Ivan walked out of the bedroom and started off the hallway. I followed closely behind him.

“Whose clothes are these?” I asked.

“Is it important to know whose it is?” he asked me back.

“Of course, it is. I have a right to know whose clothes I’m wearing right now,” I replied.

Ivan’s steps suddenly came to a halt, so I had to stop walking too.

He seemed lost in his own thought for a moment until he finally said, “The clothes belonged to my wife.”

I gasped. “So you’re already married?”

“Yes, but my wife died a couple of years ago,” he said tearfully.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said sympathetically.

I knew it was wrong to feel sorry for your kidnapper. But I didn’t know why when I heard about his wife’s death, I suddenly felt so sad.

“Thank you,” he said with a wry smile.

I returned his smile.

At last, Ivan continued walking with me in tow.