The sun stings my eyes and I flutter awake. Time for another day of toiling. It's what I've done all my life and it's what I will do today. No other life is on the horizon. Ramon Ortega is just a simple farmer boy, after all.

I slide the rough blanket off my ripped abs. It almost gets caught on the ripples. Farm labor makes one fit as few.

The mirror beside the bed is cracked and dirty. It doesn't matter. My face isn't much to look at anyway. Dark messy curls fall over my almond-shaped crystal blue eyes, almost down to the annoyingly sharp cheekbones.

If only I had been born pretty. Maybe things had been different then. Maybe a woman would have wanted me as a husband.

I sigh. What use would beauty be for a farm boy anyway?

I grab my clothes from the chair. A white shirt where some of the buttons are missing, which makes half my chest be visible even after I close it. Pants that are too short. All pants are too short on my unwieldy frame.

Just as I'm about to grab my plow and head outside, I hear a trumpet bellowing. Confused, I look up. Who would disturb my morning routine like that?

As I crack the door open, I see a carriage outside. It's painted in red and gold. The colors of the former king. Sometimes people say I look like him. Perhaps it's the blue eyes. I've never thought much of it.

"Is this the house of Ramon Ortega?" a noble-looking man asks. He's clad in puffy pants and an ornate jacket.

"That's me," I reply, wondering what this is all about. "I am the humble farmer Ramon Ortega."

"My Prince," the man exclaims and bows down. "I've come to help you claim what is rightfully yours. I've come to help you claim the throne."

Author's Note: Yeah, this is going full wackadoodle now. I just hope it will all make sense as well. At least eventually.