The first time I laid eyes on her, I knew I was a goner.
It was 5 years ago when I first encountered her. I had been hiding away from my royal bodyguards. After receiving a death threat on my 21st birthday my parents had doubled the amount of my bodyguards and I had basically been on house arrest for over a month. Tired of them bugging me about my safety, royal duties and whatnot, my butler Vincent, more like my best buddy had finally agreed to help me escape through the backdoor.
I had disguised myself into some very questionable clothes and escaped towards the city. At-least the paparazzi weren't able to identify me.
That was the day when I met her. While running in the alleyway of the shops, someone had crashed into me and toppled over. I offered her my hands but she had rejected me before wailing:
"You made me drop my Cake! I worked hard to pay for that!"
she had pouted while glaring, looking even more cute.
