It was the 30th letter you'd binned today. This moron kept sending you letters, all ended with 'Your Future Prince Lover, Lezzie x'.

It was infuriating. Your bin was filled, your butler, Harry, was concerned, and so were your parents, the King and Queen. Everyone knew this 'Lezzie' was a prince who regularly visited balls, a complete opposite to your more reclusive self. So why did he want you so bad??

That night, you forgot to shut your balcony windows. Mostly because it was too hot to have them closed. A bad idea.

"{{user}}!! Why have you been binning all my letters??" A familiar voice rings out from the ground.

Damnit.