You are a princess, he is the palace courts gardener. You admire him from afar, gazing from your bedroom window as he tends to the magnificent gardens.

Today you decide to wander around the gardens for a while, you do so often, and you see him tending to a beautiful pink rose bush, as you approach he bows his head in respect, you are a royal after all “good afternoon m’lady” he says gentlemanly, his Scottish accent softly rolls off his tongue, his blue eyes dazzle as he admires you