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Logline

A Spanish commoner is thrust into royal politics and must learn to be Prince, but the weight of the crown might cripple him before he gets an handle on things.

Blurb

After finding out about his Royal bloodline, Diaz, a nineteen-year-old boy is offered the position of the Crown Prince of Spain. He accepts this offer without first going through the pros and cons of being rich, famous, and looked up to--after all why would a common restaurant boy decline a golden opportunity to shine?

But being Royal isn't as 'golden' as it's painted out to be. Diaz would have to find out the hard way that as Prince, no one's trustworthy--not even his father the King, because the first rule of being Royalty is Putting the Crown first, even if it means hurting those dearest to you.

Diaz would need to navigate his newly acquired life as Prince whilst trying to survive the betrayal, pain, lies and scandals that come with the Crown. If he survives this, then All Hail The King, Diaz, but let's just pray he comes out in one piece.

Chapter 1

Twirling and turning in my apron, I hummed my favourite Ed Sheeran song, 'Eyes Closed' in my head, as I navigated my way around the kitchen—going about my daily routine before my abuela's restaurant opened for the day.

"Diaz? Go get me some onion from the storage!" My abuela called out as she stirred a dish that was on the stove. She was a tanned and compassionate but sometimes harsh, plus-sized lady with barely 5'10ft ten of height, hair that she dyed white as a result of the increasing number of grey hair on her head, and wrinkles on her face.

"Okay mama," I said moonwalking towards my destination.

"Hurry up!" She added in a matter of urgency tone seeing that I was dance-walking.

At the sound of her voice and the obedience it commanded, I hastened my pace whilst putting my humming on pause alongside my dancing. I ran to the storage that sat behind the small restaurant with an access door at one end of the kitchen.

In a flash, I was back with two bulbs of onions, because my abuela gets easily pissed with things concerning the restaurant meals. 'Food is the key to people's pockets, so it always has to be perfect to keep the customers coming back for more,' she had always reminded me.

The restaurant was nothing fancy, it was a story building with the bottom floor housing the restaurant that contained just a medium-sized eating area, a kitchen at the back, a storage room that seats behind the restaurant building, and the top housing abuela's living area—with a small kitchen, small lounge, and two bedrooms, one bigger than the other.

She planned on handing the restaurant down to me when she got too old, so she was training me to run the place. And every day was another day of learning.

"Here you go abuela," I said handing her the onions. Walking past her, I picked a broom

from behind a door that led to the eating area of the restaurant and out of the kitchen. Closing the door behind me as I exited, I continued humming from where I stopped as I swept the floors.

I was so engrossed in my chore and humming, that it was only when I heard the ring of the bell that sat on top of the entrance of the restaurant, that I stopped. "Sorry! We're not open yet, come back in an hour," looking up, I said to a tall muscular man in a black tuxedo and an electronic wire strapped around his ear.

With an emotionless face, he answered. "I'm here to deliver a message from his royal Majesty the King to one Mr. Diaz Alejandro and Cristina Alejandro. Both mentioned names are invited to dinner with the king tonight at the fifth hour after noon." Immediately he was done, he turned around, walked out of the restaurant then entered a black land cruiser and drove off.

"Weird!" I said shaking my head in hopes to clear the fog of confusion that had clouded my mind.

Hearing the ringing of the bell, my abuela came out of the kitchen just in time to see the car drive off. "Who was that?" She asked.

"It was one weirdo from the palace. Just ignore him," I answered getting back to cleaning.

"Diaz Santiago Jose Alejandro? Who was that?" She said calling my full name, causing my heart to skip a beat. Whenever she did that, she had gotten serious, and I always ended up with no television for the rest of the month—if I didn't give in to her request.

"It's nothing for you to worry about Mama," I said in a whining tone. She has a habit of worrying over meaningless things, and I didn't want to give her something new to worry about.

"Don't tell me it's nothing!" She said in a serious tone then walked into the kitchen, and I let out a sigh of relief as she did.

But my moment of relaxation was cut short when she returned to the eating area with a spatula in hand. "Diaz Santiago Jose Alejandro, you better speak now if you know what's good for you," she said, pointing the spatula to me, and then she started closing the distance between us. I began backing away but was stopped from advancing by a table, and that was the opportunity she needed to get to me and point the spatula a few inches between my eyes.

"Okay! Okay! Okay abuela, I'll tell you," I said throwing my hands in the air in defeat. "Just... lower your weapon," I added pushing the piece of wood away from my face. Why does she have to be this persistent?

"So...," she motioned for me to start speaking seeing that I was stalling.

Breathing out in frustration, I relaxed and then sat on the table that had hindered my escape. "He was here on orders from the King," I paused to see how she was taking it but frowned when her eyes brightened in curiosity.

"Hm-mm!" She turned her hand in the air, indicating I continued.

"The king invited us to dinner!" I said, one word at a time.

"Wait, what?" Her face became emotionless, causing my heart to beat fast in worry that I had fried her brain circuit with the information.

"Abuela? Mama? Are you alright?" I waved my hand in front of her as she stared at me in a daze.

But then her lips moved upwards to form a weird smile, and the next thing I knew—she let out a scream of joy that frightened me. "Oh! It did fry your brain, didn't it?" I asked with a roll of my eyes.

"It wasn't that hard now, was it? You silly boy," she replied, gifting me a smack on my head with the spatula.

"Ouch! What was that for?" I robbed at the spot that now throbbed with a pout.

Ignoring me and the pain I was going through, she jumped up in joy. "You know what this means right?" She stopped and looked at me with a gaze filled with expectations.

"What?! I don't know," I said afraid that she was going to smack me again if I didn't give her the response she wanted to hear, or if I didn't speak at all.

"I'm going to the palace!" She screamed in delight and then continued jumping again, but this time she was trying to go higher, and for a moment I was worried that it might be bad for her health.

Twirling, she said in a dreamy voice. "I'm going to wear a gown, and sit at the same table with the king and have dinner with him. I wonder how long it'll take him to finish a dish. I heard from my friend who works at the palace that sometimes he spends up to two hours on the main course of the meal, not to talk of dessert."

"Why are you so happy about having dinner with an old man? It's not anything special," I replied nonchalantly, making her stop to send me a glare. I immediately pegged my lips shut with my fingers while praying that she wouldn't use the spatula on me again.

Walking towards me with her hands on her waist, she stopped in front of me and said. "I wonder how you got straight A's in high school if you're this dumb, how stupid are the people who came behind you in class?" She flicked my forehead causing me to whine silently then she added. "The annual fundraiser ball is in a month, and every year the King invites the chef he wants to cook for the occasion to dinner, and finally he has invited tu abuela. I can't wait to share my cooking with the elites."

I nodded with my mouth still pegged. She turned around to head back to the kitchen, but then twirled and stopped, facing me before drawing me into a tight hug that pushed the air out of my lungs. "Mama! You're killing me," I managed to say. She loosened her grip around me, and I gasped for air with a smile.

"This is a dream come true for me and I thought you of all people would be happy for me," she said in a voice that was void of any excitement. Wait, how did she go from that to this in a second?

Wrapping my arms around her, I gave her a pat on her back and said. "I am. Truly! But, why will he invite us to the palace for dinner, I mean us, not just you who's the artist behind the meals made here, but us. And besides, what happened to the chef who did it last time? There are also award-winning chefs in Spain, why you?"

"I don't know. Maybe he decided to test the meals of the smaller chefs this time around. After all, bigger isn't always better. And maybe he wants you to come along so I don't feel lost in all the glory of the palace!"

This was making her very excited and I didn't want to ruin the mood so I decided to push my concerns to the back of my mind.

"If you say so Mama," I replied. Ever since I was a child, it had been me and my abuela. She had lost her husband after they gave birth to my mom, and my mother got knocked up at a bar after returning home from college and had me. Two years later, she fell in love with an American and eloped with him, leaving me with my Abuela. So now all I wanted to do was take care of her, and this restaurant that I had grown to love and call home.

The offensive smell of something burning brought me out of my thoughts, and I sniffed the air to confirm that my nose wasn't playing tricks on me. "Abuela? Did you turn off the stove before coming out?" I asked causing her to gasp in shock.

"Oh, no, no, no. My baby!" She cried as she ran back into the kitchen, and I followed in tow.

Her love for cooking had only been rivalled by me, but sometimes I wasn't so sure if I came before or after her cooking. Opening the kitchen door, we were greeted by a cloud of smoke. Coughing, I wrapped my elbow around my nose while waving my free palm in front of my face as I rushed to the stove.

Turning it off, I went to open the back entrance for the smoke to go out. When I turned around, I saw my abuela on the floor with her legs open and the pot of burnt Paella in between them. She stared at it with teary eyes and I knew better than to disturb her moment of 'mourning.'

The last time something like this happened was when I brought a girl home, she was so engrossed in interviewing the innocent girl that she forgot about what she was cooking. At that time, I didn't know about her mourning routine whenever she burnt food because she barely did. So I disturbed her moment of silence. Long story short, she made me regret doing that.

Letting her be, I exited the kitchen and then went back to the eating area to continue with my chores. When I was done, I went back into the kitchen to clean up the mess as she was done mourning and was now focused on the other meals that were on the serving menu for the day.

Although momentarily grief-stricken by the loss of one of her 'babies,' the rest of the day went by like every other day at the restaurant, except for the part where we had to close two hours earlier than we usually did.

*_*

"Is that what you plan on wearing?" I heard the voice of my abuela from behind me causing me to scream in fear.

"Don't do that abuela! One of these days it might give me a heart attack," I said struggling with my tie.

"Don't worry! I'll stop scaring you when you do get that heart attack." She grinned as she came to help me with the tie.

She finished and then tapped my chest with a smile. "Change out of those trousers, they look faded!" She said in a stern voice before walking out of my room.

I was wearing a pair of blue trousers and a white shirt with a tie, but given that she asked me to change in her 'no negotiations' voice, I ended up wearing a pair of black trousers that matched my black eyes and hair that I had combed into a lying position. Dusting some powder on my beardless jaws and face, I stood still in front of my half-length wall mirror and took in my appearance.

"Diaz!" I heard Abuela call from downstairs. Hurrying down, I found her pacing in the eating area in her favourite blue gown that hugged her features.

Walking towards her, I held her by the shoulders and stopped her from moving, then wrapped my arms around her and said. "Let's go abuela, the palace awaits."

She sucked in a deep breath and we walked out of the restaurant, and I locked the door behind us. We were standing on the sidewalk while waiting for a taxi when a limousine drove to a stop in front of us. The driver's window rolled down and a skinny man said with a smile. "Ride order from the palace!"

Someone came down from the car and opened the door for us, and I couldn't help but stare in shock. Such treatment for a commoner chef?

"Get in dummy!" Abuela scolded as she had untied her arm around mine, and was getting into the car.

Smiling at her cuteness, I followed behind her. "Thank you!" I greeted the person who opened the door, and he nodded before closing it behind me.

After a few minutes on the road, we arrived at the gates of the castle, and after a honk from the driver, the gates rolled open. My jaws dropped as we drove through the tallest walls I'd ever seen. I had never been to the palace before, because I had never had an interest in the ruler of our country. The car drove into the massive courtyard made of sparkling red bricks and came to a stop after going around a fountain shaped into a dolphin.

The doors opened, and we came out onto a red carpet that led up some stairs and towards the entrance of the palace. The building was a huge, more like enormous structure with up to five pinnacles, long church-like windows decorated with artificial flowers, and the surrounding was adorned with shrubs carved in the shape of animals, figurines and well-kept flower bushes.

We both stood in awe as we took in the sight in front of us. "Diaz? Can you see what I'm seeing?" Abuela asked continuously tapping on my shoulder in excitement.

Smiling, I answered. "Yes, mama. I do." I've never seen her this happy towards something that didn't involve a new recipe or cooking.

"It's beautiful," she said in a daze.

Nodding, I added. "Yes mama, it is. But not as beautiful as you." I looked at her and smiled even wider. Wrapping her arm around mine, she rested her head on it.

"I know it isn't," She added with a smile of her own.

The person who had come to the shop earlier walked out of the building and then beckoned for us to follow him, and as we reached the door, it opened on its own and he led us through. Upon entering, a line of males and females on a uniform of black and white came into view.

And as we walked past them, they all bowed causing me to look at them weirdly with confusion written on my face.

Tapping on the guy who was leading us on his shoulder, I asked with curiosity. "What's happening?"

He looked at me over his shoulder, then answered. "Don't worry, you'll know when the time is right, Your Highness!"