I was born to a crown I don't want.
Being next in line for the throne means a life of doing what's expected of me: attend the right schools, have the right hobbies, marry the right girl. At best, it's half a life, but I've learned to accept my lot.
Until I visit New York for a weekend and meet her.
Margot. Pink hair. Leather jacket. Torn fishnets, and a rebellious streak that I'm powerless to resist.
As the prince, it's my duty not to whisper dirty things in her ear. His Highness would never take her back to his hotel. The future king of Denmark absolutely cannot make this girl scream my name, but here I am.
Pretending I'm normal.
She never asks who I am, and I never tell. I never plan to see her again, either. She leaves my hotel in the early morning -- only to find the paparazzi waiting. They descend on her like sharks in bloody water…
And because of my name, she doesn't stand a chance against them. I'm forced to retreat, knowing that she will probably drown in the screaming and camera flashes.
My name is Prince Stellan Løve, and this is the reason why Margot hates my guts.