pleasantly in her mind. She dressed quickly, her movements purposeful as she prepared for another day at the garage. Arriving at work, Nellie threw herself into

ly stubborn engine issue. The garage began to quiet down as evening approached, the last few customers collecting their repaired vehicles and heading home. As Nellie cleaned up her workstation and prepared to leave for the day, she noticed a small envelope tucked under the windshield wiper of her own car. Curiosity piqued, she opened it and found a simple card inside. On it was a handwritten message: "Thank you for your help the other day. Meet me at Café Royale tomorrow evening, 7 PM. - T" Nellie's heart skipped a beat as she read the message, her mind racing with questions and excitement. T. The initial sparked recognition, and she couldn't help but smile. Tomorrow evening promised to hold answers to the mystery that had captivated her since their unexpected encounter. With a mixture of anticipation and nervous energy, Nellie tucked the card into her pocket and headed home. The evening passed in a haze of restless thoughts and hopeful anticipation. Sleep came slowly, interrupted by fleeting dreams of fast cars and honey-brown eyes. The following day dawned bright and clear, the promise of evening lingering like a tantalizing whisper in Nellie's mind. She went about her tasks with a sense of purpose, the hours ticking by slowly until finally, the clock struck six. With a quick glance in the mirror and a deep breath to steady her n

dmitted, feeling a rush of relief that he seemed to share her curiosity. "I have to admit, it's not every day that a mechanic meets someone like you." T chuckled softly, a sound that resonated warmly in the cozy ambiance of the café. "And it's not every day that a prince meets someone like you," he replied, his tone tinged with both amusement and sincerity. Nellie blinked, momentarily taken aback. "A prince?" she echoed, surprise coloring her voice. T nodded, his expression softening as he leaned forward slightly. "Yes. My full name is Trystan Sverkersson," he explained, watching her reaction carefully. Recognition dawned in Nellie's eyes as she recalled the name from news articles and occasional glimpses of royal events in the city. "Trystan Sverkersson," she repeated softly, her mind racing to connect the dots between the man before her and the heir to the throne. "I wanted to meet you again," Trystan continued, his voice earnest. "There was something about you, Nellie. Your confidence, your skill... You intrigued me from the moment we met." Nellie felt her cheeks warm at his words, a mixture of pride and disbelief swirling within her. "I... I'm just a mechanic," she murmured, almost instinctively downplaying her own abilities in the face of his royal stature. Trystan shook his head gently. "You're much more than that, Nellie. You have a passion and talent that shines through in everything you do." His eyes held a sincerity that resonated deeply with her, melting away any lingering doubts or i