Chapter Text
Ingrid watched the countryside pass by in a haze as she stared out the window of the sleek black SUV that was taking her closer and closer to her country’s capital city of Stockholm. Her family – her parents, younger brother, and two younger sisters – had stayed behind at their family home on the island of Oland at her request. At nineteen, this was the biggest declaration of independence she had made thus far in her young life. Going off to university was a rite of passage, and Ingrid had argued that embarking on such an experience with her parents watching from the sidelines was not a part of such an ‘adult’ endeavor. Still, as she left Oland behind and inched closer and closer to Stockholm, she found herself yearning for the comfort and familiarity of her parents at her side.
“Are you alright, Your Royal Highness?” Ingrid looked away from the window and toward Eddie, her SAPO officer and personal bodyguard who was driving the vehicle.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just nerves.” She replied, giving as confident of a smile as she could muster.
“About university, or the flight?” It was a well-known secret amongst the inner sanctum of the royal family that Ingrid had a deathly fear of flying, an affliction that was not easy to overcome when one was expected to travel out of the country regularly.
“It’s safe to say both, I think.”
“Just remember your exercises.” Eddie replied, and Ingrid nodded in response. Eddie had been her bodyguard for the past two years, and was privy to her occasionally-crippling anxiety attacks. He had been trained by her therapist to aid her during her panics, and knew her coping mechanisms as well as she did herself. He was tall, with short-cropped blonde hair and blue eyes – every bit the stereotypical Scandinavian man. He had offered little of his personal history to her, despite their years of spending nearly every waking moment together. She knew that before he had joined SAPO he had been with the Life Guards, but before that he had always been tight-lipped. She knew that he was a highly-decorated military officer, and suspected that he had been a member of the Kustjagarna, the most elite of Swedish Special Forces. “We will be in Stockholm soon. Would you like to go back to the palace or straight to the airport?”
“The airport. No point in putting off the inevitable, right?”
“You are the one who chose to go to university abroad, Your Royal Highness.”
“How many times must I ask you to call me Ingrid, Eddie?”
“As always, at least once more, ma’am.” Ingrid laughed and shook her head, Eddie knew she hated ‘ma’am’ of all the forms of address that were given to her.
“Just drive, Eddie.” She said with a grin.
What felt like mere minutes later, Eddie was pulling into the private entrance to Arlanda airport. Her father had insisted on a charter flight, rather than letting her book a commercial ticket as she had wished. It had already been a months-long battle to get her father to agree to a foreign university, and Ingrid’s mother had wisely advised her to pick her battles. So, as expected, when they pulled up to the tarmac there was a small jet waiting for her and Eddie, and Ingrid quickly recognized two SAPO officers waiting by the ladder.
“Eddie, why are there more SAPO?” Ingrid asked, feeling irritation rise within her.
“His Majesty’s orders, ma’am. They are to stay with us until you and Princess Victoria are settled into your new living arrangements.
“Did you know about this?”
“I did.”
“And why did you not feel the need to tell me?” Ingrid felt the sting of betrayal. Eddie might be her bodyguard, but she also considered him a close friend. He knew how she worried about increased security robbing her of her privacy, and it had been another bone of contention with her father.
“I am sorry, Your Royal Highness. But at the end of the day, the King is my boss – as well as yours.”
“You still could have warned me.” Ingrid bit out before throwing her door open, not bothering to wait for Eddie to open it as she normally would. She nodded a quick hello to the new SAPO officers – it wasn’t their fault that her father was an overprotective, overbearing monarch after all – and stepped up into the plane.
The betrayal was enough to momentarily distract her from fear of flying, and she took a seat in the front of the plane, throwing her handbag into the seat across the aisle from her. She sat down with a huff, grabbing her phone and sending off a text message to her best friend, Victoria.
Ingrid knew that Victoria’s grandfather, the King of Italy, had a tendency to be paranoid when it came to the safety of his family, but four extra protection officers for his granddaughter still seemed excessive. Victoria was second in line to the throne behind her father, Crown Prince Umberto, but both she and Victoria had been granted the right to a private childhood and adolescence that the media gave to all royal children. The result was that, despite their high profiles as future queen regnants, they could still get away with a fair amount of anonymity when they tried – especially Victoria, who was still one step away from being Crown Princess herself. Still, she supposed it was just one more compromise they were going to have to make in order to have the university experience they both craved. Having been taught by private tutors during their childhood, followed by spending their teen years at Le Rosey, the most exclusive private boarding school in Europe, both she and Victoria saw Cambridge as their last chance to have a normal educational experience before they were expected to take on the royal life full-time.
As the pilot and flight attendants began their final checks, Ingrid watched out of the corner of her eye as the two new bodyguards took seats at the back of the plane. Ingrid hoped that Eddie would do the same, but instead he took the seat beside her with an unnecessarily heavy ‘thump,’ looking straight ahead instead of at her.
“There are quite a few other seats on this plane, you know.” Ingrid snapped.
“Ah, but this one affords me the best view.”
“You’re in an aisle seat.”
“You are very observant, Your Highness.” Ingrid chose to sigh heavily in response, crossing her arms across her chest and turning toward the window.
“You’re inching very close to Princess Mode.” He warned, and Ingrid rolled her eyes. Princess Mode was a term that Mira, her previous bodyguard, had coined when she was a child and prone to throwing fits. As she had grown up, Mira had used it as a subtle warning to Ingrid that she was in need of what Mira referred to as ‘an attitude adjustment.’ Unfortunately for Ingrid, it was a term that Mira had passed on to her successor.
Ingrid chose not to respond further, instead staring out the window as the plane began to taxi toward the runway. She felt the ball of nerves begin to gather in the pit of her stomach almost immediately, and did her best to quell the rising anxiety.
“Count, Your Royal Highness.” Eddie murmured next to her, and Ingrid began to count down from twenty in her head. She watched out of the window as the plane turned and began to move down the runway, slowly picking up speed. She felt her heartbeat quicken as the plane moved faster and faster, the small private jet beginning to vibrate and shake.
“Out loud, Your Royal Highness.” Eddie insisted, and Ingrid could only nod sharply before shutting her eyes and leaning her head back against the headrest.
“ Tretton, Tolv, Elva, Tio, Nio, Atta, Sju… ” Ingrid felt her voice falter as the plane lifted off of the ground. This was her least favorite part, and she felt her body go rigid as fear coursed through her. Distantly, she felt Eddie place his hand over hers, and continue her counting.
“ Sex, Fem, Fyra, Tre, Tva, Ett. ” He said, and Ingrid twisted her hand around to let go of the armrest and grasped Eddie’s hand. She forced herself to breathe as the plane gained height, and felt her stomach settle as they reached cruising altitude.
“Are you alright, Your Royal Highness?” Eddie asked after a moment, and Ingrid nodded.
“Yes, I’m okay now.”
“Could I possibly have my hand back, then?” Eddie asked, and Ingrid looked over to see him smirking at her.
“I suppose that you can, Mr. Nilsson.” Ingrid replied, letting go of his hand. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and shot off a text to her mother, telling her that they had successfully taken off. She also sent a message to Victoria, who had already landed in London that morning. The plan was that they would remain in London for the first few days, then they would go on to Cambridge together. She and Victoria had initially fought for a traditional dormitory, but their parents (and Toria’s grandfather) as well as their protection officers had insisted that it was logistically impossible. Instead, they would be renting a house on the outskirts of town, with both privacy and enough bedrooms to allow their bodyguards to reside with them. They had both decided that it was not a battle worth fighting, and had compromised on the issue.
Before they moved on to Cambridge, however, they would both be staying as the private guests of Ingrid’s maternal grandparents. Private guest or not, however, her current outfit of black leggings and oversized sweater were not proper clothes to be worn in the presence of the King and Queen of the United Kingdom. One of her mother’s Ladies-in-Waiting had had a more appropriate dress brought on to the plane prior to their departure, and Ingrid unbuckled her seatbelt so she could go about getting ready. A canary yellow sheath dress waited for her in the small bathroom of the plane, with her favorite pair of nude heels. Stripping out of the sweater and leggings, she slipped the dress on and began to touch up her hair and makeup, pulling her long brown hair into a tidy braid that wound behind her head and around to lie across her shoulder. As she finished fastening her favorite pair of pearl pendant earrings (an eighteenth birthday present from the grandparents she would soon be visiting) she heard the pilot announcing that they would soon be descending. Feeling her stomach lurch once again, she gathered her makeup and clothes and stuffed them into the bag the Lady-in-Waiting had left for her to use. She stepped out into the main cabin of the jet and stowed the bag away above one of the empty seats. She noticed that Eddie had moved to the window seat and took the one he had vacated, strapping the seat belt on as she waited for the plane to begin its descent.
A press release had been released two days prior that Ingrid had chosen Cambridge to continue her education, and there was no guarantee there would not be paparazzi waiting at the airport hoping to get a shot of her arrival. She checked over her dress and accessories once again, and she heard Eddie chuckle beside her.
“You look lovely, Your Royal Highness. No need to fidget.”
“That is easy for you to say. If I have a stray hem or broken heel, you won’t be the one on the cover of Expressen tomorrow morning.”
“I will have you know that I have been referred to as ‘the unidentified man accompanying Crown Princess Ingrid’ on many occasions. I am practically a celebrity.”
“Yes, you’re a regular Madonna.”
“You haven’t heard me sing ‘Like A Virgin’ or you would be eating those words, ma’am.”
Ingrid laughed and shook her head, taking out her phone and sending Victoria a text that they would soon be landing. She felt the tension building once again and sighed in frustration and exhaustion. After an entire life spent traveling, she always hoped and prayed that this would be the flight, the one where she magically did not freak out anymore. She felt the plane move lower and lower, and glanced past Eddie and out the window to where she could see the London suburbs getting closer and closer. She was always better with the descent than the takeoff, but always dreaded the moment when the wheels touched down on the runway, sending her lurching forward in her seat. She pushed herself back against the seat as the pilot quickly slowed the jet down and taxied to a nearby terminal. She could see two cars waiting for them – black SUVs, as usual – and felt a sigh of relief that the flying portion of her move was now blessedly over.
“Are you ready, Your Royal Highness?” Eddie asked as he removed his seatbelt.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Ingrid replied, standing up and smoothing out any wrinkles that had appeared on her dress. “Let’s get this adventure started.”