Ik Andorra isn't a monarchy, but we will assume it is a country with a king. Cause this is ✨️fiction✨️
Charles strolled away from Ahri and Max, their tension thick as fog. Seeking solace, he found refuge in a quiet corner of the VIP section with a glass of whiskey. Leaning back, he couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "I need an exorcist; he's possessed," his words spoken in French.
His gaze fell upon a lone figure on a nearby couch. Breaking the silence, he inquired, "Would you mind?" Curiosity laced his tone as he gestured to the vacant space beside her.
"Oh, not at all, although I must confess, I'm not really into exorcism," she replied with a playful smile, her voice carrying a slight French accent.
"French?" Charles asked, raising an intrigued eyebrow.
"Jesus no, I am Andorran. You know, that's so offensive to assume. How would you feel if someone called you French?" she retorted, challenging his assumption with a playful hint to her voice.
"Touche. I am assuming you know me," Charles inquired.
"Well, there are just 20 active F1 drivers, and only one speaks French without being French," she shrugged.
"Charles," he introduced himself, extending a hand for a handshake.
"Genevieve," she replied, reciprocating the gesture. A sense of familiarity lingered, prompting Charles to ask, "Are you an actress? Or an internet celebrity perhaps? You look way too familiar."
A mysterious smile played on Genevieve's lips as she responded, "Well, I am an actress of one kind."
"What brings you to Australia?" Charles inquired, engaging in conversation with the woman he most definitely found attractive.
"Work," Genevieve replied, her answer concise, leaving an air of intrigue.
Before their conversation could deepen, a man's voice cut through the air, calling out for her. "Princess," he said, his words spoken in a tone that suggested he was a bodyguard. Accompanying him was a woman in formal wear, walking purposefully toward them.
"Louis, Emma," Genevieve greeted them politely, her demeanour shifting slightly.
"How many times have I told you not to wander off?" Emma scolded, her disapproval evident.
"I didn't wander off; I just found a quiet corner for myself," Genevieve defended, her tone asserting her independence.
"Jesus, Gen, you have some responsibility. There are protocols; you cannot hide during royal visits," Emma insisted, her concern for decorum evident.
"Goodness, you've worked with me since I came of age, so you should know that I'm the one who gives orders, not the other way around," Genevieve asserted, her words carrying a regal confidence.
"You're the princess of Andorra," Charles said, a mixture of surprise and recognition colouring his tone.
"Why yes, Princess Genevieve, Crown Princess of Andorra," she replied, introducing herself properly this time, in full confidence.
"But you told me you're an actress," Charles pointed out.
"I am, of one kind. I act like I enjoy royal duties; I act like I hold some kind of superiority; I act like people care about me. It's the 21st century; aren't all royals some sort of actors?" Genevieve explained.
Before Charles could respond, Emma interjected, "We need to leave; you have people to meet," she declared.
"Well then, the peace was nice while it lasted. Charles, could I perhaps have your number?" Genevieve asked, her request catching Charles off guard.
"Princess, you can't just do that," Louis interjected, expressing concern.
"Well, not everyone has the chance to be married to their coworker. Don't stop me from getting some action," Genevieve retorted with a mischievous glint in her eye. She handed her phone to Charles, who typed down his number, a subtle smile playing on his lips.
"Well then, see you in Imola," Genevieve declared, hinting at a future encounter.
"You'll be in Imola?" Charles inquired, surprised by the unexpected revelation.
"Yep," she confirmed before gracefully leaving with her entourage.
"I'll need an exorcist soon, won't I?" Charles mused to himself, leaning back on the now-empty couch. His encounter with Princess Genevieve left him questioning the reality of the evening. Intrigued, he decided to get to know her better by Googling her and scrolling through her Instagram, which resembled more of an official page than a personal one. The curated images and glimpses into her royal life left Charles with a mix of fascination and disbelief.
Finishing his drink, he shook off the surreal feeling and decided to shift his focus back to the present. With a purposeful stride, he walked away, intending to rejoin Max. As he disappeared into the bustling crowd, he couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the evening had in store for him.
Genevieve, on the other hand, found herself the subject of playful teasing. Louis couldn't resist a quip, "A racer? Wow, never knew you had a thing for athletes, Gen."
Emma joined in, "What? Have you looked at him? He looks like a Greek God. Of course, she would be interested."
"You guys," Genevieve whined, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement colouring her expression.
"What? You were so confident back there," Louis argued, relishing the opportunity to tease his boss.
"I can't wait to tell Salma," Emma declared, a mischievous glint in her eyes as they all piled into the car. The banter continued, leaving Genevieve with a mix of embarrassment and amusement as they drove away from the scene, the night unfolding with unexpected twists for both Charles and the princess.
YOU ARE READING
ENCHANTMENT, Charles Leclerc
Fanfiction"I was enchanted to meet you." . . . "You are a piece of my heart; racing is a piece of my soul. If I have to lose one, I die." . . . "You are a celebrity racer; I am a princess. I will not trade one prison for another." Charles Leclerc Fanfiction C...
