Heya guys, here I come with another Lalu fic. I love them sooo much! Drop a review!

Enjoy!

Lucy fidgeted. She hated this. Stupid corsets, lavish dresses, maids scuttling to her every whim. It was terribly overbearing. She let out a little sigh, her breath stuttering slightly as the action caused that god-forsaken torture device, also known as a corset, to squeeze her insides together even more, shaping her body as into perfect hourglass.

A lady must be perfect! She imitated the governess Minerva mentally, heaping on the haughty tone, cold eyes and upturned nose. Minerva was as beautiful as she was snarky with her sleek black tresses that were perfectly coiffed even in the midst of the most hazardous situations, seemingly permanently made up face, almost impossibly trim waist and well-practiced elegance, emulating the characteristics she sought to whip into Lucy to the point where she was a pain to be around. Still, Minerva was with her since she was a child and she had grown fond of the moody perfectionist.

Lucy released a nervous whoosh of breath then rapped on the door to her father's study gently. She knew how he hated to be interrupted when engrossed in his never-ending work, even though he summoned her, and hoped that the knocking was too soft to be heard so she could retreat to the comfort of her quarters. Whatever it is that he wanted to speak about would not be good.

Her father hardly cared for her, leaving her to her own devices most of the time. His only real influence on her life was in the form of tutors who were hired so that she was thoroughly educated and the epitome of elegance, not that they had much work to do since reading was one of her hobbies and she was exceptionally intelligent for a woman. As usual her sex was viewed as merely as ornaments and the presence of a female who could shockingly – cue the gasps - spell her name was an extremely rare thing.

"Yes?" a gruff, impatient voice called back. Lucy swallowed her nerves, interacting with her father always left her nervous. Sometimes she wished that he wasn't one of the richest, most influential persons in Magnolia and that they could enjoy a simple and meaningful father-daughter relationship.

Lucy opened the door and stepped in, shutting the door softly.

"Good day Father," she greeted, meeting his stern gaze. His blond, slightly graying, hair was mussed so Lucy assumed that something was not going well with his work. He always pulled his hair when agitated, she remembered that habit from the times when she was younger and she would sit in his lap while he worked, before the death of her mother. After the tragedy her father buried himself in his work. Lucy lost both her parents that day. She had tried to interact with him and comfort him as much as an eight year old could but it certainly didn't help that she was an exact replica of her mother with the same flaxen-coloured hair, warm chocolatey eyes and rosy cheeks. The only difference was that her mother's hair fell in angelic ringlets while Lucy's was on the straighter side.

"Come closer child," her father spoke again. Lucy obliged. He set aside the document he was studying, meeting her curious, but slightly guarded eyes and forming a steeple with his fingers.

"I have made arrangements for you my dear," Lucy flinched at the term of endearment, whatever it was that he was going to tell her was going to be bad if he had to resort to such affective measures, "There is a business partner of mine who happens to be in search of an educated, well-cultured woman at his side, characteristics that you, darling, possess. Naturally I volunteered you to be that woman seeing that you were raised to be the wife of such a person. Of course it pains me to have to send you away, but it is for your own benefit. You will have a happy life with this person, I assure you that he will take care of you. "

Lucy's jaw dropped. Of course she knew that she wasn't being educated to take over the company since that was an unfit for a woman, but to be raised just to be sent away to be beautiful and giggle like a trophy on some man's arm?! Never. She was a woman of pride.

"You will be sent to his home tomorrow, he is expecting you. I already informed Minerva and the maids so your things will be packed in time. You are not expected to marry him so soon, but get acquainted. Now then that is all, I have some pressing matters to return to." The man dismissed her clearly, reaching for the file he set aside.

Lucy grit her teeth. Her father expected her to just up and go to some man's home and acquiesce to his bidding like some puppet.

"I'm sorry Father, did I hear right? I am to be the bride of someone I don't even know? Is he so repulsive that he cannot court a woman and ask her hand?"

Lucy's father glared at her, shutting out her other protests.

"You have no right to question my judgment Lucy. I am only doing what is best for you."

Lucy felt her anger swell and throb throughout her body, "What is best for me father? You of all persons have no right to say that, you who ignored me and left my upbringing to servants. You do-."

"Enough!" he snapped, voice booming and vein pulsing on his temple, "You will do as I say. Now go to your room and prepare to meet your future husband."

Lucy's nose flared and she stomped out of the office and up to her room. No way was she going there, she'll show him. Aside from her mother's looks, Lucy knew that she inherited her stubbornness; she was told many times by the servants. Lucy was not one to follow rules blindly.

She zoomed through the manor to her room, ignoring rules of etiquette pertaining to running in the hallways. She slammed the door to her room shut and launched herself on her bed, burying her face in the squishiness of the duvets and screaming. She knew what she was going to do. Run away. A free spirit like herself could not be tied down to something as monotonous and domestic as arranged marriage. She wanted more, much more.

When she raised her head from the bed, she saw Minerva standing in the doorway leading to her dressing room staring down at her in her usual haughty manner, but this time it was softened by a little bit of sympathy.

"Little girl, you know better than to act like this. You are a lady, a lady must always be poise," the older woman berated. Even though Minerva was just twenty eight, and only nine years older than Lucy she always treated Lucy like a child. Minerva had come to the manor when Lucy was nine, shortly after the death of her mother, and though she was young, only nineteen at the time, she fit the role of strict governess perfectly. Of course this rigidity was exactly what her father wanted and numerous times crowed at how perfect of a lady Minerva was.

Lucy glared at Minerva weakly.

"Don't give me that look. I know what you want to do. You want to run away, but I cannot allow that. You're leaving tomorrow morning and I am staying in your room with you until leave."

Lucy gaped at the smug-looking woman. How did she know…?

"Oh stop it, child, if I don't know you then I know no one. You always run away when you don't want to do something, it would be extremely foolish of me to leave you alone."

The blonde girl sighed. Well there goes that plan. She rolled over onto her back, staring up at the canopy surrounding her bed. The only other option was to be a total snob to her fiancé and hope that he called off the engagement. Lucy sighed again, wincing this time as the corset protested against her ribs.

"Don't worry Lucy, you will be well off with this person. I hear that he takes care of what is his," Minerva encouraged awkwardly.

Lucy twitched in agitation, there they go again referring to me as if I'm just an object!

Her expression morphed into one of curiosity, she didn't even know the name of the man she was about to marry.

"Minerva, what is his name?" she asked, still gazing up at the familiar canopy airily.

Minerva smiled, one that was not full of contempt, at the girl's curiosity, "Laxus Dreyar."