As the daughter of a prevalent business tycoon, you had been going to galas, charity events and balls your entire life. You grew up going to boarding schools for the children of the rich and famous and surrounded by only the best of the best.

Tonight, you were attending a gala in the Netherlands thrown by the royal family themselves for the 28th birthday of their first-born son, the soon to be King of the Netherlands.

Your parents abandoned you to go socialize with some of their associates fairly early into the evening, leaving you to wander the large ballroom alone. You were in awe of the number of people attending the event and how beautifully decorated it all was. In your preoccupation with observing this, you accidentally bumped into someone, spilling some of your champagne on them.

"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry!" you said quickly, reaching for some napkins to dab off the champagne stain from their clothing. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

The man you'd bumped into chuckled softly and waved a hand dismissively. "It's quite alright, schatje. You can barely even see the stain," he said, flashing you a charming smile when you looked up at him.

Little did you know that you were talking to the birthday boy, the Prince of the Netherlands, himself.