Rosangela: The Runaway Princess (Book #2)

A year had flown by since I and my father moved to Madrid and started a new life here. At first, we found it hard to adapt to our new surroundings, especially because of the language barrier. You know, only few people could speak English fluently here, because it’s not their first language. Therefore, we decided to start learning Spanish. And thanks to our hard work, we’re beginning to sound like the locals now.

I was attending a local school here and now I was in my senior year. Meanwhile, my father opened a small restaurant in the town center. The restaurant was named after my mother, ‘Clary’, short for Claribelle. It served British and Spanish cuisines. And I proudly said that our restaurant now had become a popular hang-out for natives and tourists.

“Gracias por acercarme (Thanks for giving me a lift),” I thanked my friend, Carlos Lopez, because he had given me a ride to my father’s restaurant after school.

After I entered my new school, I made friends with some girls and boys there, and Carlos was one of them. Now, I and Carlos became best friends, and he often gave me a lift home or to my father’s restaurant just like today.

“¡No hay de qué! (don’t mention it!)” he replied.

I unfastened my seat belt and was about to open the car door, but Carlos held me back. “¡Espere, Rosanne! (Wait, Rosanne!)”

“¿Qué pasa? (what’s wrong?)” I asked.

“Estas libre el sábado en la noche? (Are you free this Saturday evening?)” he asked me back.

“¿Por que? (Why?)” I queried.

“El sábado hago una fiesta en casa. ¿Te apuntas? (I’m having a party at my place on Saturday. Will you come?)” he said hopefully.

At the mention of party, I shuddered with fear. Since I was kidnapped on the way to Josh’s party, I became afraid to come to a party again, except that I went to the party with my father. But I knew that I couldn’t ask my father to go with me to Carlos’ party. He’s too old to mingle with my schoolmates. Thus, I had no choice but to turn down Carlos’ invitation.

“Lo siento, Carlos, no puedo. He quedado (I’m sorry, Carlos, I can’t. I’ve got plans),” I made up an excuse.

Carlos smiled, but I knew it was only to hide his disappointment. “Oh no te preocupes (oh that’s all right).”

“Me tengo que ir. ¡Hasta mañana, Carlos! (I must be going. See you tomorrow, Carlos),” I said.

“¡Hasta mañana! (See you tomorrow),” he replied.

I hopped out of the car and shut the door after me.

“¡cuídate! (take care!)” I said while giving him a wave.

Carlos honked his car horn as a response and finally he drove off.

I watched until Carlos’ car was out of sight before I entered my father’s restaurant.

The interior of this restaurant was decorated in warm shades of red and orange. A crystal chandelier was hanging from the middle of the white ceiling. The walls were adorned with paintings. The polished hardwood floor shone like glass. The windows overlooked a breathtaking view of the Sierra del Guadarrama or the mountains of Guadarrama.

This restaurant was furnished with classic tables and chairs with a capacity of about 50 people. All the tables were covered by white tablecloths with a vase of red roses on top of it. The restaurant was usually full up at the lunchtime and dinner time. But because it’s past lunchtime and dinner time hadn’t arrived yet, this place was less crowded now. There were only a few people who were enjoying their afternoon tea.

There was a bookshelf full of various genres of books in the far corner of the room. The books are arranged alphabetically by author. The customers could borrow the books and read them while enjoying their meal.

“Buenas tardes (Good afternoon).” I was soon greeted by one of the waiters who worked here.

“Buenas tardes (Good afternoon),” I responded cheerfully, “¡Hola, Pedro! (Hi, Pedro!)”

“¡Hombre, Rosanne! ¿Qué tal? (Hey, Rosanne! How are you?)” Pedro, the waiter enquired.

I smiled then answered him, “Estupendamente. ¿Y tú? (Great. How about you?)”

“Bien (Good),” he replied. “¿Lo puedo ayudar? (Can I help you?)”

“Si. Estoy buscando mi hermano. ¿Dónde está mi hermano? (Yes. I’m looking for my brother. Where is my brother?)” I asked.

When I said my brother, I meant it’s my father. Despite his real age, my father still looked like in his twenties. That’s why we agreed to tell a lie that he’s my brother instead of my father.

“El señor Grandville está en la oficina (Mr. Grandville is in the office),” Pedro answered.

“Gracias, Pedro (Thank you, Pedro),” I said.

With a smile, Pedro responded, “De nada (You’re welcome).”

Without wasting time, I walked towards my father’s office which was at the back of this restaurant.

Once I reached there, I knocked on the door soon.

“¡Adelante! (come in!)” I heard my father say from the other side of the door.

I pushed the door open, revealing my father who was sitting behind a mahogany desk.

“Hi Dad,” I greeted as I shut the door behind me. After that, I started to approach my father.

“Rosangela Grandville, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me ‘Dad’ when we are in the public place?” my father scolded me.

I rolled my eyes as I took a seat on the chair across from my father. “Come on, Dad, there are only the two of us here. So we don’t have to pretend anymore.”

“I know we’re alone here. Still, we must be careful with what we say because walls have ears,” he warned me.

I laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Dad! Who wants to listen to our conversation here?”

“Forget it! How was your day?” Dad decided to change the topic.

“As usual, it’s really boring at school. And you know what, Dad? Carlos invited me to his party this Saturday,” I told him.

“And you declined his invitation, didn’t you?” Dad guessed.

I sighed. “Yes, I did. To be honest, I am still traumatized to go to a party again. I’m just scared if I went to a party, I would get kidnapped again like what happened a year ago.”

“I felt guilty because I have contributed to your trauma too,” Dad said regretfully.

“What do you mean?” I asked, didn’t understand.

“I kidnapped you too on the night of your and Maximilian’s engagement party, remember?” Dad reminded me.

“Oh yeah.” I chuckled at the memory when I met my father for the first time and he ended up kidnapping me. But I never considered it as one of contributing factors to my trauma.

“You also got into trouble with the council members when the people of Bloodrose Pack was about to throw a party to welcome you to their pack. And it’s because of me too,” my father added. Guilt was written all over his face.

“It’s all not your fault, Dad. You don’t have to feel guilty,” I soothed him.

“No Rosanne, it’s—”

“I suggest we let the matter drop,” I advised, cutting him off. “How’s your business going, Dad?”

My father lastly told me about his business before moving on to the next subject. We talked about various topics for over an hour until I decided to end our conversation when the sun was just setting.

“I have to go home now, Dad. I still have to do my homework,” I told my father as I rose to my feet.

“I’ll drive you home,” Dad said while standing up.

“Okay.” I nodded.

We walked out of his office and sauntered to the front of the restaurant.

“Oye, Pedro, ahora tenemos que irnos (Pedro, we’ve got to go now),” Dad told the waiter as we ran across him who was cleaning a table nearby the exit. “¡Vuelvo enseguida! Hasta ahora (I’ll be right back. See you in a bit).”

“Hasta entonces, señor Grandville. ¡Cuídate! (See you then, Mr. Grandville. Take care!)” Pedro said with a smile.

Dad responded with a nod and he finally strode out of the restaurant.

“Chao, Pedro (Bye Pedro).” I waved at him before following my father out of the restaurant.

“Hasta luego, Rosanne (See you, Rosanne),” Pedro shouted after me.

I and Dad got into the car. He sat behind the wheel, meanwhile I took a seat beside him on the passenger side. And finally, my father drove me home.

When my father and I arrived at our home, we found that the gate was wide open and there was a car that was parked in front of our house.

“Whose car is that, Dad?” I asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Rosanne,” Dad answered.

“Does that car belong to the vampires?” I enquired.

Dad sniffed the air before replying, “I don’t think so.”

“Does it belong to the werewolves then?” I posed another question.

My father shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

“If it’s not the vampire or the werewolf, then who is it?” I wondered aloud.

Unbuckling his seat belt, Dad said, “Wait in the car! I’ll check who it is.”

My father was about to open the door, but I grasped his arm, holding him back. “No, Dad, I’ll come with you.”

“No! Stay here!” he insisted.

I sighed in defeat and reluctantly relinquished his arm. “Fine. Be careful, Dad!”

Dad nodded his head before he opened the door and got out of the car.

I watched with apprehension while my father was walking towards the car cautiously.

‘Oh God, I hope it’s not the vampires that my grandfather sent to catch me,’ I prayed silently.