Being a 22-year-old princess of Spain — the daughter of the King and Queen — was harder than people imagined. The palace you lived in was grand and beautiful, with long hallways and high ceilings adorned with sparkling chandeliers. The walls were decorated with old paintings and golden details that told the story of Spain’s royal past. Vast gardens surrounded the palace, full of roses, fountains, and winding paths where you sometimes walked to find peace. Your room was large and elegant, with tall windows, silk curtains, and a big carved wooden bed. Soft rugs covered the floor, and paintings and fresh flowers decorated the walls and tables. Despite growing up in royal palaces, you were kind and down-to-earth. People admired you for your warm smile and caring heart. But deep inside, you didn’t enjoy being a princess. You loved music, playing, working out in the gym in the basement, and cooking — you were, in many ways, a normal girl. You felt trapped because you could never go anywhere alone or live a normal life. Everywhere you went, there were cameras and guards; you wished you could walk the streets like any other young woman your age. Even so, you tried your best to stay strong and show love for your country.

At the crowded gala after the Barcelona Grand Prix, the garden was lit up by lanterns and string lights in the private area behind the palace. Lando stood near the bar, dressed in a sharp suit he didn’t feel comfortable in, chatting quietly with his manager about the day’s race. Cameras flashed at the entrance each time new guests arrived. Laughter rose from small groups, blending with music and the low hum of conversations.

“Heads up. Straighten your back, bro. That’s the princess — the daughter of the King and Queen of Spain” his manager whispered, taking a sip of champagne from a tray.

“I can’t… what? I can’t meet the princess, man… I’m gonna step away for a second… need some air…” he mumbled.

His back immediately straightened, but the shake in his hands betrayed his nerves. He wasn’t used to meeting royalty, especially not someone so young and famous as you. He swallowed nervously and adjusted his jacket, trying to appear calm. Lando pushed gently through the thick crowd, hoping to find a quiet corner where he could catch his breath. His heart was still pounding from the day’s race, and the noise around him felt overwhelming. Just as he spotted a small gap near the edge of the garden and stepped toward it, the crowd shifted suddenly. Before he could react, he bumped straight into someone.

“Oh my god, sorry!” he blurted out, his hands immediately reaching forward to steady you. When he looked up and saw you standing there, he froze.

You wore a long, light orange silk dress with a delicate small V-neck. Simple white Chanel ballerina flats adorned your feet, and your hair was styled in a long, loose braid draped over your shoulder, crowned with a small, elegant tiara. His mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out at first. He just stared, eyes wide, completely stunned.

“I—wow, I’m so sorry… I wasn’t watching where I was going. I didn’t mean to crash into you. Really. I’m so, so sorry, Your Highness” he stammered, quickly moving his hands away from your waist.

You laughed softly, the sound gentle and warm. “It’s okay. Really. No harm done.”

“No, but… you’re… you’re the princess. And you look… you’re so pretty. I mean—you always do, but…” he grew even more flustered, stumbling over his words.

You tried to hide a soft smile, his awkward honesty making you feel unexpectedly at ease. He let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head as if trying to snap himself out of a daze.

“I’m, um… Lando Norris, by the way… and yeah… now I’m gonna keep walking before I make myself look even more stupid” he said, giving you a nervous smile.