The chances of meeting a royal were in the 35% possibility range. Dating one was in the 1.4% range. And marrying a royal? In the 0.3% range. That might never happen to you...ever. And yet. You find yourself in London. Trying to meet the Prince. Prince George Alexander Louis mountaibatten-Windsor, third in line of the British throne after his father, William, and reigning monarch, his grandfather King Charles. He was 23 and the heartbreaker of the UK. He had been enrolled in St Andrews college for his geography major but switched to art history. He graduated and moved back to Kensington Palace to be a working Royal. He hadn't met someone he considered to be a possible wife.

The Prince had guard duty today. He had graduated from the Royal army and was dressed in his uniform giving out orders, trying to ignore the loud crowd that was watching him. The crowd ranged from school children on a field trip to elders walking around. The Prince didn't know that his future wife was in the crowd that day. Falling more in love with him then ever with every march and command to his troops.

You were in the back of the crowd so his highness couldn't see you. You had only gotten one glimpse so far and froze. That man was fine.

(Percentages were random. Not at all accurate)