Remirez Alexander Montegova, crown prince of Montegova,
He stopped in front of the imposing door with its gold trim and raised his fist, as cold as the rest of his body.
Anyone who knew him would be surprised by such a strange display of hesitation. Since childhood, he had been praised for his recklessness and his courage. Everyone saw him as a leader who would one day achieve greater things for his country than any of his ancestors.
But there he was, cowering behind a door.
Of course, it wasn't an ordinary door. It was the portal to his destiny. As pretentious as those words sounded, that didn't make them any less true.
I had dreaded that day.
The truth was, she didn't want to go in. She didn't want to face her mother, the queen, because instinct told her that when she came out, she wouldn't be the same person.
Of course, he had never been his own master. He belonged to the history of Montegoba, to the destiny forged by the warriors who had fought in bloody battles to forge that kingdom located in the western Mediterranean.
"Duty" and "destiny." Those two words were seared into his soul.
"Your Highness?" his aide murmured. "His Majesty is waiting."
Remi knew it. And the call that morning had been imperative.
His mother had requested his presence at nine o'clock sharp and the antique gold clock in one of the many halls of the royal palace of Montegoba

He solemnly announced that he was about to be late.
Letting out a sigh of resignation, Remi knocked on the imposing, gold-trimmed door and waited for the command to enter.
She arrived immediately, energetic and firm, but wrapped in a layer of undeniable affection.
The voice faithfully reflected the woman sitting in the armchair, beneath the coat of arms of the royal house of Montegoba.
Her mother nodded in approval as she bowed her head respectfully before sitting across from her.
"I was wondering how long you were going to stay at the door. Do you really scare me that much?" she asked, a glimmer of regret in her eyes.
Remi looked at her mother to see if, for once, her instincts were wrong. But the perfect hairdo, impeccable makeup, classic Chanel suit, and emerald and diamond brooch in the colors of the Montego Bay flag made it clear that this meeting was exactly what she had suspected.
The axe was about to fall.
–You don't scare me, but I suspect this meeting isn't going to make me jump for joy.
Her mother pursed her lips before rising from her seat. She was a tall, impressive woman, and she would have commanded attention even if she weren't the queen of Montegoba. Before becoming queen, she had won several beauty pageants, and when she deigned to smile, her smile could take any man's breath away. Remi knew that firsthand.
Her hair, which had turned silver almost overnight ten years earlier after her father's death, had once been as dark as his, but she bore that visible sign of grief with the same fortitude with which she had kept the kingdom from descending into chaos after the king's sudden death and the ensuing scandal. At twenty-three, Remi was too young to ascend the throne, so her mother had taken over as regent. He was due to be crowned on his thirtieth birthday, but then another tragedy struck that thwarted their plans.
His mother placed her hands on the polished surface of the desk and looked into his eyes.
–The time has come, Remirez.