Substitute Wife For The Cold-Hearted Prince

Emily’s POV

“This is Wales news. I am Clarion Johnson. First, we begin with sports. Information reaching us has it that the famous British hockey player Imelda Peterson has gone into a coma after a heinous headbutt injury in the field while playing for the British Tournament. Regrettably, this is happening at the wrong time, when the Hockey player, has just one week to be the lawfully wedded wife to Prince Reuben of the Wales Royalty…”

I snorted after turning off the television , just to avert more tears from trickling down my cheeks. I had never been so devastated in my life. The world seemed to have paused and I couldn’t feel my pulses anymore. A part of me had been crippled and my rain drops had turned to blood streams.

Ill fate had befallen Imelda Peterson. The talk was making the round and it became more than news because she was supposed to be the wife of Prince Reuben in a week’s time.

When I turned around, I saw my mother, Susan Peterson, standing in the door with folded arms and teary face. She had lost her beauty overnight and I knew it was traceable to the countless times she had wept for Imelda and the horrible ill fate that befell her.

Obviously, she had been there, staring at Imelda blankly, just as I have been doing for an hour now. This was a big blow on our faces and we were locked in our gloom, wondering what fate had in store for her.

The oxygen machines were beeping, alarms were echoing and on the screen were no signs of breath emanating from Imelda. My twin sister, was between needles and pins, battling with life’s painful strokes. What sort of life is this?

Mom pulled to my side, sniffed heavily and tossed her head in absolute uncertainty. We were the only consolation she had after the demise of our father. She couldn’t afford to lose either of us.

“Did the doctor say any other thing?” she asked with sorrow on her face and hopelessness clouding her eyes.

I tossed my head in disapproval, lacking words to reply her and losing myself to misery and loss. I didn’t want to lose my twin sister. I was drowned within my thought where all this was headed.

Her words seemed to be heavy on her lips and more investigative than it seemed a while ago. Just like me, mom wanted a miracle, and when I peeped through the window , I saw a handful of fans , all holding a placard , engraved with the lettering m, WAKE UP IMELDA.

More tears ran down my cheeks as I gazed at Imelda struggle with life under the oxygen mask.

“The doctor said she could wake up in a week’s time,” I reminded my mother as if she had forgotten.

“Why now?” mom whispered in a teary tone. She kept tossing her head as she sobbed uncontrollably.

“Perk up, mom,” I intoned, rubbing her arm and petting her “She is going to wake up,” I added.

Those latter words were heavy on my lips. The doctor said it was a temporarily coma. But how temporary was it.

The fact was that without my twin sister, the British hockey tournament would continue and it did. I was yet to understand how she lost her helmet and an attacker smashed her heads with the bat.

This was among the mysterious tragedy of life that I would never understand, but I wished the tragedies of life would understand that Imelda had just one week to go.

Yes, one week to be the lawfully wedded wife and Princess to Prince Reuben Jacobson, the only prince of the Wales Royalty. This was the version of the tragedy I hated to hear.

“Has the queen been here?” my mother asked, inquisitively, her arms trembling as they approached Imelda’s

I tossed my head in disapproval and sniffed back the urge to shed more tears. I knew what she wanted to ask now she had mentioned the queen. I knew it was about the wedding between Imelda and the prince in a week’s time.

Our gaze met when she broke down in tears again and dropped her face on my shoulders.

“Emily,” she wailed, her warm tears had dropped so much on my shoulders that it burned now.

“This can’t be happening now. What sort of ill fate is this?”

While she was weeping we could hear some shuffling towards the door.

Our gaze was anticipating as we blinked curiously at the door. A palace guard walked in and announced the presence of the queen.

She was Queen Theresa Jacobson, the first, looking ravishingly spotless in her royal robe and splendor, her face radiating eminence and honor.

Mom and I bowed in reverence and mom who couldn’t control her emotion, sobbed so greatly that the queen mother walked to her side to pet her.

“Perk up, Susan.” she said, almost being selective with her words as if to remind us Imelda was going to make it.

“What about the prince?” my mom asked and returned her gaze on Imelda, just as the Queen had done the same.

“He is heartbroken. He refused to join us to the hospital. I just met with the doctor and he said Imelda will wake up in a week time,” she said, staring at me now, and seeing Imelda in me.

Virtually everyone did the same; they saw Imelda in me and vice versa. We were identical twins ‘ identical in all ramifications; shape , hair curves and even in tone ; except career.

While she was a Hockey player, I was a bank manager at Wales Bank.

“I have only heard of Imelda’s twin sister, but this is my first time of seeing her in flesh and blood,” the queen remarked.

And I bowed in reverence, swallowed hard, wondering why her gaze fed into my face as if she was considering a thought.

She held my mom firmly, her gaze still on me, “Please we must see tomorrow in the palace, you alone.”

Her gaze was still on me. I wondered what was about to happen…