He lives in a normal-ish house in Madrid. He drives a regular car. But when Luis Alfonso de Borbón crosses the border into France, a very specific group of people bow and call him "Your Majesty."
It sounds like a Netflix plot. Honestly, it’s weirder than that.
As we hit 2026, the man the world knows as the Duke of Anjou is no longer just a "socialite" or a "banker." He’s become a lightning rod for a Europe that feels increasingly unstable. While his cousin, King Felipe VI, sits on the Spanish throne, Luis Alfonso is playing a much longer, stranger game.
He’s the "Legitimist" claimant to the defunct French throne. If the French Revolution hadn’t happened—or if the right laws were followed today—he’d be King Louis XX.
The Franco Connection and the Shadow of the Dictator
You can't talk about Luis Alfonso de Borbón without mentioning his Great-Grandpa. That would be Francisco Franco. Yeah, that Franco.
This connection isn't just a footnote; it defines his public life in Spain. His mother, Carmen Martínez-Bordiú, was the dictator’s favorite granddaughter. Growing up, Luis Alfonso wasn't just royalty; he was "The Chosen One" in certain circles that missed the old regime.
People often forget how much tragedy follows this guy. His brother died in a car crash when they were kids. His father, Alfonso de Borbón, died in a freak skiing accident in Colorado—literally decapitated by a cable.
👉 See also: Martha Stewart Young Modeling: What Most People Get Wrong
Imagine carrying that.
Today, he doesn't shy away from the Franco legacy. In fact, he’s leaned into it. When the Spanish government moved Franco’s remains out of the Valley of the Fallen a few years back, Luis Alfonso was right there, carrying the coffin. He didn't look happy. He looked like a man defending his family's "honor," even if that honor is tied to one of the 20th century's most controversial figures.
Why France? The Legitimist Logic
So, why does a guy born in Madrid think he’s the King of France? It’s all about the "Salic Law."
Basically, the Legitimists believe the crown follows the strictly senior male line of the House of Bourbon. Since the main French line died out, the claim jumps to the Spanish Bourbons.
- The Problem: The Treaty of Utrecht (1713) said the Spanish kings renounced their French rights.
- The Counter-Argument: Luis Alfonso’s supporters say you can't "renounce" a God-given right.
It’s a nerdy legal battle that usually stays in history books. But in late 2025 and early 2026, Luis Alfonso started getting loud. He launched a new official website, aimed squarely at the French public. He’s been writing columns in French papers, basically saying the current Republic is "on the verge of collapse" and that France needs a moral authority.
He’s not calling for a coup. He’s "offering himself" as a symbol.
✨ Don't miss: Ethan Slater and Frankie Grande: What Really Happened Behind the Scenes
The Money Problem: Banks, Losses, and Father-in-Laws
If you want to see where the "Prince" gets messy, look at his bank account. Or rather, look at his father-in-law’s bank account.
Luis Alfonso married María Margarita Vargas, the daughter of Venezuelan billionaire Víctor Vargas. For a while, things were golden. He was a vice president at Banco Occidental de Descuento (BOD). He lived the high life between Caracas, Miami, and Madrid.
Then the floor fell out.
The bank collapsed. Thousands of people lost their savings. In October 2025, a criminal complaint was filed in Curaçao involving the group he was a director for. Critics say he used his "Prince" title to lure in investors who thought their money was safe with a Bourbon.
He’s never been convicted of a crime. But the "banker prince" image has taken a massive hit. It’s hard to be a "moral authority" for France when people are asking where their retirement fund went.
The 2026 Reality: A King Without a Crown
Where does this leave him now?
🔗 Read more: Leonardo DiCaprio Met Gala: What Really Happened with His Secret Debut
He’s 51. He has four kids. He spends a lot of time at polo matches and high-end gyms. But he’s also becoming the face of a new kind of traditionalism. He’s cozy with leaders of the Spanish right-wing party Vox. He’s positioning himself as the protector of "Christian Europe."
Felipe VI, the actual King of Spain, keeps his distance. The Spanish Royal House doesn't even recognize Luis Alfonso’s "Duke of Anjou" title. To them, he’s just a cousin with a very loud hobby.
What most people get wrong is thinking this is just about wanting a crown. It’s not. Luis Alfonso knows he’s never going to live in the Elysée Palace. This is about influence. By claiming the throne, he makes himself the head of a movement that spans Spain, France, and Latin America.
He’s a brand. A very old, very complicated brand.
How to Follow the Story
If you’re interested in how modern royalty interacts with 2026 politics, keep an eye on these specific areas:
- The Court Cases: Watch the developments in the Curacao and Panamanian banking investigations. This will determine if he remains a "glamour" figure or becomes a legal one.
- The French Elections: Whenever France hits a political crisis, his "legitimist" columns tend to go viral in conservative circles.
- The Franco Foundation: As the honorary president, his moves regarding his great-grandfather’s legacy continue to polarize Spanish society.
You don't have to believe he’s a King to see that he’s one of the most unique figures in the European aristocracy. He’s the bridge between a dictatorial past and a very uncertain, populist future.
To understand the full scope of his claim, you can look into the Treaty of Utrecht and the Salic Law of the French Monarchy, which remain the primary documents used by both his supporters and his rivals, the Orleanists, to debate who truly holds the right to a throne that hasn't existed for over a century.