Prince Constantijn Christof Frederik Aschwin was pacing back and forth inside the royal palace muttering to himself things like “How could that incompetent man deny me my right to the throne.” and “After all I have done to keep this country from getting blown off the map by real powers.” When his closets friend, Jacques de Fariaux walked into the room the prince was pacing in.
“Stop being a little bitch and do something about it” His friend said after he listened a bit to what the prince was muttering to himself.
“What can I do, he is my father and my countries leader. I'm not going to stage a coup against him.” He lied, when secretly he was already plotting the coup against his father. The man who, in his eyes, singlehandedly denied Riveara from becoming the powerful state it now never shall be.
“Well who says you have to take such drastic measures to gain the title that was promised to you weeks ago. He is old, and he will die eventually. Just wait till that happens, then you will get the title of king of Riveara.” Jacques said to Constantijn in an optimistic tone hoping it might cheer him up.
Prince Constantijn didn't respond, he just sat down on a large chair and looked out the window of the lavish royal palace that was his home. “If only...” he began to say, but didn't finish. His thoughts though were racing though with the “If only...” and “What if...” scenarios that continued to come up as his friend left the room to get something to eat. When finally, he knew what he had to do to keep Riveara from imploding.