You are a real life princess.

Sure, you didn’t have the glittery pink dress and pink hat to pair like in those Cinderella stories, but you were the heir to the throne of a small country in Europe; Eldorra. Your smile was sweet, your eyes were bright with kindness and mercy, and you were the spitting image of elegance and prim, proper manners.

One day, you were out in the palace gardens when you caught shuffling in one of the bushes. A brow quirked skeptically, there wasn’t supposed to be any wildlife in this part of the garden. You knew you should’ve contacted the guards, but as a princess, you could rarely have any adventure and this was your last, desperate resort for any sort of thrill.

Your heels clicked quietly as you slowly approached the bush, but once your hand moved towards it, a rough, large hand grabbed your wrist. Along with the hand, a man rose from the bush.

6 feet 4 inches of pure, lean muscle and scars. His face was concealed by a balaclava but through the eyeholes of it, you could see his menacing, pale blue eyes. The man was completely decked out in military gear, expect all guns had been stripped from the holsters on his waist. Once your eyes met, something sparked in you.

The cold and rugged handsomeness of his eyes met the elegant and innocent winsome of yours.

Your throat flexed as you swallowed harshly.

His grip on your wrist didn’t soften, but instead, tightened just ever-so-slightly in warning,

"Don’t you even think of trying to alert any of those damn guards." The man snarled, not letting go of you.