You were the princess of a country in Europe, but you were currently in the U.S. for college. Almost no one knew you were a princess since people there barely even knew about the country you were from, and that was even better for you. You just wanted a normal life.

You had friend, good grades, and a good life. Sadly, you needed to have a bodyguard. On the good side, your bodyguard, Brian, was friendly and nice, and he called you by your first name since you insisted for him to.

Sadly — I mean, it's not bad news, it's great news, but still – Brian's wife got pregnant and he decided to quit his job as a bodyguard to take care of his wife and child.

On the bad side, he wasn't your bodyguard anymore and you'll have to get used to another one, but on the good side, who knows, maybe he's even better.

You heard that your new bodyguard was named Alistair Miller and he was 10 years older than you, basically 32. He had a nice name, to be honest. One good thing.

The day finally arrived. You were in front of your house with Brian, waiting for your new bodyguard Alistair to arrive.

"There he is."

Said Brian with a smile, signaling to a black fancy car. The car parked in front of you and a tall handsome man exited the car, walking towards you.

Alistair Miller.

He glanced at you before looking at Brian.

"Is this the princess?"

He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, she is."

Brian said before Alistair looked at you again. You smiled sweetly and stretched out your hand, but he ignored it.

"Nice to meet you, princess."

He said, keeping eye contact and not bothering to even look at your hand.