Loving my Forbidden Prince

Surprise, Surprise.

It was a freaking mannequin.

Now we were on Highway One, across the Pacific Coast. The car began to fly, moving way beyond the required speed limit. As a result, it started to swerve, fishtailing across the road.

I screamed and lunged forward, ripping the mannequin out of the driver’s seat and grabbing the wheel, only to realise, to my sheer horror, that there was no control to take. The car was fully automated. Someone else had control of it from somewhere outside. I tried to yank open the doors, but they were locked. I slammed my fist against the driver's window and then used the mannequin as a weapon, but the windows were as hard as steel.

Cars, vans, whatever-you-name-it blared their horns at my swerving overspeeding cab. Realising that there was nothing I could do, I fastened the seat belt on the driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel hard like my life depended on it, screaming on top of my lungs till my throat burned raw. I was too young to die.

As the car approached a bend, I saw my whole life flash before my eyes as it zoomed straight forward past the metal railing, crashing into a tree. I had no idea how long I had lain there afterwards. My awareness faded in and out, and I was gradually slipping away no matter how hard I fought to stay conscious.

The last thing I noticed was a blurry, shadowy figure staring right at me, as I surrendered myself to the overwhelming darkness.

*

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I heard muffled voices. I was being moved around. I wanted them to stop. I wanted to live. They were putting prickly things into me. Who were they? I must live. Another series of Beeps. The frequency of the voices increased around me, and my breath froze beneath my lungs. Terrified, I lunged forward, my eyes snapping open.

Except, I was still enshrouded in darkness. I couldn't see anything. Wait, What?

“Ingrid!” My mother's scream pierced through my jumbled thoughts as I felt her arms cradling my body. “I thought I had lost you,” my mother sobbed into my hair. “Thank goodness you are alive,”

I heard a muffled voice begin to cry, and I knew it was Michael.

“Hey buddy,” I croaked, forgetting momentarily that I couldn't see. My throat was parched and dry, and I needed a drink. I felt him shuffle over to me and hug me, together with Mom, and we burst into tears. My mom joined in, and before I knew it, we were a trio blubbering with tears.

“I thought you were gone,” Michael sniffed. “I kept waiting for the pizza,”

“i***t,” I laughed softly, which made me wince because my head hurt badly. I reached out to touch him, but instead, my hand grabbed something very soft that felt like a pipe. A human pipe? The realisation dawned on me as Michael yelled out in pain, scooting away from me. I was very sure he was clutching his crotch. I was horrified and speechless.

“Ingrid!,” my mom yelled at me. “Why did you grab his pon-pon?! Are you okay?!”

Pon-pon? Did I just touch my brother's p***s?

“It's okay, Mom,” Michael grunted, obviously still in pain. “I think Ingrid is blind,”

I was blind?! Oh yes! I cannot see!

The shock was too much for me, and I became drowsy. I felt myself fading away.

“Uh-oh, I think she's fainting again,” Michael panicked as my mom caught me, gently laying me on the bed.

“Call the doctor!” It was my mom's voice. Too late, it seemed so far away now.

*

When I woke up again, my headache had subsided a bit. I felt a presence beside me, which made me panic.

“Mom?” I whispered. I felt someone scoot over to me. “Ingrid, it's me,” my mother's calm voice reassured me, and my body began to relax. I had a lot of questions.

“Are you okay?” She continued, placing her palm on my forehead.

“I feel better. I still can't see,” I panicked again, and my mom placed my hands in hers. “The doctors will be here soon,”

“How long was I out?”

“Three weeks,”

“Damn,” I cursed under my breath. My first dates as a five-star holder had hit the rocks. I hoped Ms Irina was okay. Even worse, there was a possibility of being blind forever. Those did not fit in my college plans.

“And I have been meaning to ask you,” My mum continued, her tone becoming sharp, the one she used whenever we were in trouble.

“What were you doing two hours away from Westlake?”

There was a question. And I knew no way to answer it other than lie. “I had gone to see a friend in Beverly Hills,”

“And you ordered the new AI cab. What sort of mistake was that?”

“AI cab? I didn’t order one. I just booked a cab online,” I mumbled.

“Well, it malfunctioned. And this happened,”

“I'm sorry, Mom,” I whispered, feigning that my head hurt. I really hoped she would stop questioning me. And she took the cue.

The sudden quietness in the room gnawed at me. A hospital was supposed to be wrapped in chaos. At least, the hospitals I was used to.

“Where are we, Mom?” I asked curiously.

“Oh,” she said. I could hear her yawning. “At the hospital,”

I frowned. “Hospital? Why is it so quiet here?”

“Yeah,” I could hear the smile in her voice. “We are in the private ward,”

“What?!” I yelled, but I instantly regretted it as a shot of pain blasted through my head.

“Relax,” my mom said, sipping me water.

“That would cost thousands of dollars, I wouldn't be able to get to college!” I continued rapidly, my voice fading. “Oh s**t, I wouldn't be able to cover health insurance—”

We were interrupted by the door opening. I couldn't see who it was, but the number of footsteps, and the way my mom scurried away from me let me know that these people were the doctors. I couldn't see, now I was being surrounded by all these people I didn’t know. Great.

“Ms Ingrid,” a calming female voice called out. “I'm Dr Emily Kerning, and I'm here with my team of neurosurgeons and orthopaedic surgeons who have done their best in taking care of you,”

“Thank you all,” I replied the voice, then added a bit of sarcasm as I brought my hands to my eyes. “As you can see, I can't see?”

I could hear a few chuckles erupt in the room.

“I was coming to that, good to see you could spare a few jokes.” The formality made me furrow my eyebrows. American doctors were not this nice from my experience, although this voice didn't have any American accent in it. It sounded more European?

“In light of your survival, luckily because you made the wise decision to fasten on a seat belt, you have no broken bones, but however, the whiplash in the accident sprained your neck, and the impact on your forehead severed a blood vessel near your eyes, hence why you can't see. Once we are done draining the blood and repairing the vessel which would take different surgeries, you would get your sight back,”

That was good news to hear, but I was too busy calculating how much more we would borrow to perform the surgeries. I had just turned eighteen three months ago, so my medical insurance wouldn't be able to cover it. I had blown my first two jobs after my promotion, and that was a huge setback. Already owing debts before I could get into college? That was brutal. And to top it off, we were in a private ward. What the hell? What was mom thinking?!

I heard laughter in the room, which brought me back to my senses. I pasted a fake smile on my face, trying to appear like I knew why they were laughing.

“Alright, Ms Ingrid. Our physical therapist will come along to teach you how you can do things while you still can't see. We'll check on you tonight,”

I nodded my head in response. Then I heard the same shuffle of footsteps and the opening and closing of the door. My mom placed a carton of fruit juice in my hands and directed the straw into my mouth.

“Thanks,” I muttered, taking a small sip. It was my favourite, Apple-flavoured. There was something about the way the doctor spoke that made me unsettled. I had heard the accent before, whenever I had watched certain European movies, and also from certain tabloids I had scoured through. She sounded kinda Danish. Wait. What?

I snapped my head up. “Mom, where are we?”

“Hospital?” she asked in a confused tone.

“Where, Mom? We are not in America, aren't we?”

“Yeah,” my mom replied, and I heard her take in a deep breath. “We are in Copenhagen, the capital city of Denmark.”

I gasped in shock. “You flew me across the Pacific coast for treatment?” Despite my throbbing headache, my voice rose with each word. “Where on earth did you get the money to pull that off?!”

At that moment, the door opened, and I heard my mom say “Michael, you are back. And your sister is awake.” Then she lowered her voice. “Come sit beside your sister. I have something important to say.”

A feeling of dread welled up in me. I was in the same city as its Prince. I knew whatever she was going to say was not good.

“I'm getting married,” she announced and paused, as if to let her words sink in.

“To Leif Alexander the sixth, the current king of Denmark and Europe.”