Rosangela: The Half-Blood Princess

“Wait, Ivan!” I shouted after him, but he ignored me and kept walking away.

Getting to my feet, I was ready to run after him. But suddenly someone grabbed my arm from behind, holding me back.

I spun around and was startled to see Sigmund standing before me. Anger flickered in his eyes.

“What are you doing here, Princess? You know, you scared us out of our wits when we found out that you suddenly disappeared again,” Sigmund reprimanded me.

“I’m sorry, Sigmund. I came back to this café because I wanted to look for my locket. I couldn’t find it anywhere. So I thought it probably fell when I was waiting for you here yesterday,” I elaborated.

Fortunately, I had prepared an excuse before leaving the palace secretly or else I would be in a great trouble.

His face softened after hearing my explanation, but then he berated me again, “Look! You should have told me or King Bellamy first if you wanted to look for your locket. Don’t just sneak out of the palace like that ever again! Do you understand?”

I felt annoyed because he scolded me over and over again, but at the same time, I was relieved because it meant that Sigmund believed what I said. This is what I like about Sigmund. He always buys my lies easily.

“Yes, I understand. I’m sorry. But I can’t wait until sunset to look for my locket. This locket means the world to me. It is the only thing that my mother left for me. I don’t want to lose it,” I explained.

I knew my mother always became Sigmund and my grandfather’s weakness point. That’s why I deliberately used her name to my advantage.

Sigmund let out a long sigh. “Forget it! Have you found it?”

I smiled inwardly because Sigmund was no longer angry with me. Thanks to my mother’s name.

“Yes. A waiter found it and kept it for me. Look!” I pulled the locket out of my hoodie pocket and showed it to Sigmund.

“Good! Okay, let’s go home now!” he said, holding out his hand to me.

I took his hand. “Okay.”

We then sauntered towards the door hand in hand.

“By the way, how could you find me here?” I wondered.

“I followed your scent in the forest, and it led me to this café,” he explained.

“If you could find me easily by following my scent, why didn’t you do the same when I was being kidnapped by the werewolves?” I asked out of curiosity.

“The werewolves somehow managed to cover up your scent that night, so we couldn’t find you,” he answered.

“Oh,” I commented.

Just as we stepped out of the café, Sigmund halted abruptly, forcing me to stop walking too.

“What’s going on, Sigmund?” I inquired confusedly.

Sigmund didn’t answer my question. He stood rooted to the spot and kept staring ahead of him.

I followed his gaze, but I saw nothing except for a long line of trees.

“Donovan?” Sigmund murmured. At the mention of that name, he suddenly turned pale as a sheet and looked as if he had seen a ghost.

‘Donovan?’ I thought. That name rang a bell, but I couldn’t call to mind where I had ever heard it before.

I racked my brains, trying to recall exactly where I had ever heard that name. After some time, finally I remembered my conversation with Ivan at the night of my engagement party.

Flashback

“Do you know my father too?” I blurted out.

I didn’t know why his face was suddenly drained of colour at the mention of my father.

“Um...” he hesitated, “Yes, I used to know him.”

“What is his name?” I asked.

His eyes widened. “You don’t know your own father’s name?”

I shook my head. “Unfortunately no, I don’t know. Nobody had ever told me his name.”

“Not even your grandfather?”

“No. My grandfather always talked about my mother. Never once grandpa told me about my father.”

Ivan was silent for a moment before he finally said, “Your father’s name is Donovan Grandville.”

'Wait!' I said to myself, 'I remember now. Donovan is my biological father’s name.'

I stared at Sigmund; he seemed to be lost in thought. I was sure that now he was thinking about the person he had just seen.

“Sigmund?” I shook his upper arm, trying to pull him out of his trance.

At first, Sigmund didn’t react. But after I shook him more violently, he finally turned his head to look at me. “Yes?”

“When you said Donovan, did you mean it’s my father?” I asked him.

Sigmund’s jaw dropped. “How in the world do you know that your father’s name is Donovan?”

“Someone told me about it,” I replied.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Who told you that?”

“Never you mind who told me about it! Now, I just want to know. Is Donovan whom you mentioned earlier my father?” I demanded.

“Um, yeah, I thought I saw your father over there.” He showed me the exact spot where he thought he had seen my father. “But I must be seeing things. Because you know, your father has passed away along with your mother almost seventeen years ago.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said sadly.

The mention of my parents’ death fanned my curiosity about how they died. I wanted to prove whether Adolph told me the truth or not when he said that my mother was being killed by her own father. Then what about my father? If my grandfather indeed murdered my mother, did he kill my father too?

'Shall I ask Sigmund about it?' I queried myself, shooting him a sideways glance.

'No, no, no.' I shook my head inwardly. 'Sigmund will suspect me if I ask him right now. I think I’d better ask my grandfather later. However, I’m sure that only my grandfather who knows the answer to my questions.'

“We’d better hurry and go back to the palace. Your majesty must be getting frantic by now,” Sigmund told me.

“Okay,” I responded.

We marched silently towards the place where Sigmund parked his car.

Sigmund opened the passenger door for me.

Without wasting time, I got into the car and fastened my seat belt soon.

Shutting the door, Sigmund walked around the car, and climbed into the driver’s seat. After buckling his seat belt, he quickly drove the car leaving the café.