The Princess & the Football Player

Chapter 1

"Ok, ask me one more."

"Dad..."

"Just one more, please."

"Fine" I say, rolling my eyes. "Who is that one?" I ask, pointing at the papers he has on his hands.

"That's easy. Aaron Ramsdale, goalkeeper, plays for Arsenal."

"See? You know them all. Relax."

"I just want to do this right. You are the one into sports, not me."

"You'll be fine, you already know them all from the Euros."

"Yeah" he says, letting out a big sigh. "What about you? Are you nervous?"

"Why would I be?"

"You may be meeting one of your crushers."

"I don't have a crush on anyone on the national team."

"Oh, c'mon Eleanor. You watch all their games, you must fancy at least one of them."

"I don't" I shrug.

"Not even Mason Mount? I've heard girls think he is fit."

"That he is what?" I laugh.

"Fit. That's what Sophie says about boys who are handsome and attractive."

"Yes, Sophie. But not you."

"Why? Because I'm old?"

"No, because you are the King of England."

"Whatever" he says. "You don't like anyone, then?"

"No one. So you better not try anything or do what you did when we met One Direction years ago."

"What did I do?"

"Tell Niall Horan that I had a crush on him? That I had photos of him in my room?"

"Oh, yes" he chuckles. "But don't worry, I won't do it again. I learnt my lesson."

"You better. Just imagine that someone hears something and runs to the press with it. I can already see the headlines: Princess Eleanor in love with a football player. And they'll probably pick the worst option."

"Like Grealish."

"You said it, I didn't" I laugh.

"We've arrived, sir" our driver says.

"Good, good. Are you ready?"

"Ready" I say, taking a deep breath before we step out of the car.

As part of all the media events the national football team is doing before they travel to Canada for the World Cup, we are meeting with them to say our farewells and also give them a little something to remember the occasion. And when I say we, I mean my dad, King Philip of England, and I, Princess Eleanor, heir to the throne.

"Welcome to St. George's Park, your Royal Highness" Gareth Southgate says when we walk in. "The boys are waiting over here."

"Wonderful" my dad says. "How are they feeling?"

"Ready. They can't wait to get on that plane."

After a few words from my dad and the gaffer, it's time to give the players that little something we had for them: a shirt with their number and the name of all the players who have previously worn it.

"We'll do one each, ok?" my dad tells me.

"Ok."

We start calling each player, congratulating them and posing for a photo, everything going smoothly... until it doesn't. Until I froze in place when I find myself looking at the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen.