𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐫-𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐝𝐢, the royal rebel without a crown, is on the verge of being shipped off to rehab after one too many scandals.
When 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬, F1's rising star, needs an artist and Céleste needs a way out...
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"You should've told me the gig was for Lando Norris."
Alex turned to her, tilting her head. "How come? Did you meet him?"
A tiny, and to Alex mysterious, frown touched her face. "Sort of."
Céleste took a drag of her cigarette, her eyes drifting over the manicured gardens in front of them. They were sitting outside, basking in the quiet morning at the Berkshire estate. The ball had ended, but the calm lingered.
Today was Qualifying for the Formula One weekend at Silverstone, but Alex had decided to skip it. She wasn't quite ready to be seen in Charles' world yet-not publicly, anyway.
It made sense to Céleste. Alex hadn't been with Charles long enough to feel comfortable being around him at work. The online comments still stung, though Céleste couldn't entirely understand why. After all, she'd grown immune to people calling her names-but she knew not everyone found that easy to deal with. Some people just weren't built for the spotlight, and some took their time to get used to. Not everyone had the privilege (or misfortune) of being born into it.
"So? What do you say?"
The green stretched across the vast grounds, with perfectly trimmed hedges and flowerbeds in full bloom, a nice contrast to the sturdy stone walls of the estate. It was peaceful here, almost unnervingly so.
They sat on the stone balustrade of the terrace, overlooking the wide stretch of garden. Beyond that, the estate's private woods lined the horizon.
Céleste flicked the ash from her cigarette. "I've known him. Lando, you know," she said, turning to her.
"Oh. I had no idea you two were friends."
Céleste gave a short laugh, shaking her head. "Not friends," she corrected. "I meet a lot of people. Especially at events. He was... what's the word? My escort or something. To the Le Bal."
Alex nodded, recalling the memory. "Right. I remember that. You were supposed to go with Charles instead, weren't you?"
Céleste nodded as well, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as a breeze messed up her loose waves. "Yeah, but, uh, one thing led to another."
