**Runaway**

Chapter 2: Do What You Have to Do

*Author's Note: I understand no one's paying any attention to the story because Randy hasn't been mentioned yet, but please do be patient, because I shall let you know unlike a majority of the stories, Randy does not appear in the story at the beginning. In fact, it will take maybe a couple more until he actually shows up.*

I am SO SORRY for the super delayed update! For weeks, Fanfiction was being really, really, really stubborn and it wouldn't let me do anything except give me an error message whenever I tried to edit any of my stories, including this one...

"Miss Mylene! Miss Mylene! Your father requests you join him and your mother for breakfast!" called Marion, Mylene's nurse, knocking on the door rapidly.

Mylene tossed the covers aside and groaned, burying her face in her pillow. What did Father want now? All she wanted was to sleep in and get plenty of rest out of it, but no, her stupid devil father had to send Marion up to wake her up from her 'beauty sleep'.

"Mylene! Sweetie, wake up! Your father is expecting you immediately!" called Marion once again.

"I want to sleep, Marion…" groaned Mylene into the pillow. But Marion, despite her sweet and motherly nature, would not tolerate Mylene's stubbornness. She, without hesitation, opened the unlocked door (Mylene was sure she had locked it the previous night, though), and stormed into the room to find the golden-haired princess hiding her lovely face into her pillow.

"Mylene, sweetie, please don't disappoint your father," sighed Marion, gently shaking Mylene, "he has very important news for you."

"Marion, tell my father I'll get breakfast later," mumbled Mylene, refusing to glance up.

"Sweetie, you know your father—he's not exactly the patient type," said Marion, "I don't want him to yell at you and drive you to tears again like the last time it happened."

Marion had served as Mylene's nurse since the day she was born. She tended to Mylene's needs and nurtured the young princess while her parents were busy managing the country. With each day that passed, Marion witnessed Mylene growing more and more beautiful and mature each day, and she, unlike the King and Queen, did not believe in pressuring the crown princess into following traditions and customs she disliked—she, in her honest opinion, found these rituals to be absolutely ridiculous.

The fifty-something year old nurse was perhaps the closest friend Mylene had in the palace, and the young princess even considered her nurse her main parental figure, since Marion had been nothing but motherly and gentle to her. When the King shouted at Mylene, Marion was there to comfort her 'child'. When Mylene needed psychological advice, she always turned to Marion. Whenever she wanted to talk to someone, the first person she turned to was Marion. Mylene loved Marion like a mother—she was more of a mother to her than her real mother, anyway.

Mylene sighed and crawled out of bed, slowly dragging herself to the bathroom. Marion helped fetch her clothes, a simple yet pretty periwinkle blue dress made of a light, flowing material, despite knowing Mylene deeply despised dresses and skirts of all sizes, shapes, lengths, and styles.

"Marion, what does my dear father wish to tell me?" asked Mylene, emphasizing sarcasm on the words 'dear father', after exiting the bathroom having cleaned up and changed.

"He didn't tell me, dear," replied Marion, fetching the hairbrush to comb Mylene's golden locks of angel hair, "he wants to announce it to you personally."

"That's what he always says," muttered Mylene, "he never tells me anything unless he wants to tell me."

"Sweetie, be patient," assured Marion, clipping Mylene's hair into a French braid and securing a pretty white rose into the side of her head with a bobby pin, "whatever it is your father wishes to break to you, I hope it's good news."

"Maybe he's finally going to let me go outside and play," replied Mylene, staring back into her reflection. Through the mirror, she noticed Marion had fetched the make-up kit and immediately became curious; Marion only took out the make-up kit only for special occasions.

"Marion, why did you take out the make-up box?" asked Mylene curiously, "is today's breakfast supposed to be some sort of special occasion?"

"Apparently so," answered Marion, shrugging her shoulders. She motioned for Mylene to close her eyes as she applied some mascara and just a bit of light eyeshadow and blush, "your father asked me to take out that dress you're wearing for you to wear as well, but he didn't say why. Maybe the news must be some big news."

"Must be," agreed Mylene softly. She thanked Marion, who led her out of the bedroom and to the dining hall, where her dreaded parents were waiting for her.

"Good, you're here," said King Akermann, not even bothering to wish his only daughter 'good morning', "it's about time, young lady. I suppose I should have a word with Marion and tell her to hurry up with getting you ready."

"Take a seat, Mylene, and have your breakfast. Your father has something important to say to you" said Queen Leonora, gesturing to the empty seat in front of her. She was just finishing her breakfast – grains with milk and fruit.

Mylene quickly sat down and grabbed a few pieces of whole grain toast and scrambled eggs. Her father cleared his throat disapprovingly when Mylene was just about to spread some jam on her toast.

"Lucian, let her eat before we tell her the news," said Queen Leonora gently to her husband. The King sighed and gave into his wife, giving his daughter a couple of minutes to eat.

Why does he have to cough like that, like I did something wrong? Mylene thought stubbornly, as she consumed her breakfast as quickly as she could. Throughout the entire time, the King (she never thought of him as her father) was glaring at her sternly, shaking his head and tutting under his breath.

"Young lady, I believe you have forgotten your table manners," sighed the King disappointingly.

Mylene wanted to protest because her father had told her to hurry up and eat, yet now he was upset at her for 'forgetting her table manners'. Screw table manners, I'm just eating quickly so you can tell me whatever this big news is, thought Mylene. All she wanted to do was deliver such terrible torture to her so-called 'father', because he never seemed to be pleased with anything she does, no matter how hard she tried. It had been like this throughout her entire childhood, living under the hell of King Akermann.

"Good, you're finished," said the King, after Mylene had eaten, "now your mother and I have some major news for you, young lady."

"Mylene, please listen, this is very important," said the Queen gently to her daughter, who had begun fiddling with her fingers. Secretly, the Queen took pity on the daughter for being the main recipient of her husband's rants and stubborn temper, but all she could do was be soft and gentle to Mylene whenever the King was around; it was considered extremely rude in Akermann royalty for the Queen to talk back at her husband, the King.

"Yes, mother," replied Mylene, halting her movement. She was anxious to leave the dining room so she could get away from her devil of a father and unhelpful mother.

"Now Mylene, you have been of age for a very long time," began the King, "which means you are long overdue to marry for the crown."

Oblivious to the King and Queen, Mylene had no desire in succeeding her father for the crown. Because she was only Akermann of her generation, Mylene was the only one due in line for the crown, but there was one drawback—she was female, which meant she had to marry someone of either royal blood or high social status in order to fully ascend to the throne. But Mylene did not know of this yet.

"Father, why do I have to marry in order to be your successor to the throne?" asked Mylene curiously, hiding her distaste towards the fact that she was next in line to the Akermann throne, "I'm your daughter, aren't I?"

"Yes, Mylene, you are my only child," said the King, "unfortunately, there is a downside because you are my only female child."

"What does being female have to do with having a problem with me ascending to the throne?" asked Mylene.

"Because you are the sole heir to the throne and you are female, the rule is that you must marry someone outside of our family who is either a prince from another kingdom or a citizen of the highest class," replied the King. Mylene's blue eyes widened.

"In other words, Mylene, you can only marry either a prince, a noble, or a lord," added the Queen.

Mylene didn't care what kind of man she was supposed to marry—she didn't want to marry at all. She just wanted to live her live to the fullest by (hopefully) someday exploring outside the palace walls and finding love and happiness.

"But there's no need to worry about that, young lady," said the King, interrupting Mylene's thoughts, "because we've found someone for you, a lord, actually. He's the wealthiest lord in all of Secretum. His name is Dave Batista."

Mylene shuddered upon the thought of having to marry someone she had never met in her life, especially this Dave Batista person. Why had her parents decided to set her up with some lord whom she had never even heard of in her life?

"Lord Batista lost his wife in a tragic accident a couple of years ago, and we think he would be the perfect match for you, Mylene," said the King, "he's a nobleman of high class and comes from a very privileged background. You'll like him very much, Mylene—he's got a castle not too far from the town and has plenty of luxuries that you'll enjoy very much."

Mylene didn't care if the guy lost his wife in a 'tragic accident'. She didn't care if he came from a wealthy family. She didn't care if he had a big castle that had everything he liked; over her dead body would she walk down the aisle with a stranger whom she hadn't even met in person yet.

"Mylene? What do you think?" asked the King, narrowing his eyes at her. Although the impetuous princess wanted to defy her father's wishes and quarrel with him over the stupidity of this betrothal, Mylene knew arguing wasn't going to get her anywhere. She didn't want to start another shouting match with her father—he'd most likely throw her into the dungeons if she displayed any opposition towards the proposal.

"He sounds like an interesting person, Father," fibbed Mylene, concealing her atrocity towards the arranged marriage her parents set her up with, "I'd like to meet him someday."

I'd like to meet this Batista person so I can call off the wedding and give him a piece of my mind, thought Mylene to herself.

"Perfect!" said the King delightfully.

Eugh, what is there to laugh about, the idiot, pondered Mylene, I'm forced to be the wife of some lord person I haven't even met yet, and my father is being happy about this. There is seriously something wrong with him.

"Your mother and I have invited Lord Batista over for lunch this afternoon," continued the King, "therefore, I expect you to be in the house by half past twelve, cleaned up, scrubbed, and dressed appropriately. I do not want you visiting the garden until Batista has left; you can't afford to embarrass yourself and make him assume you are a ragamuffin with all the dirt on your dress and the sweat on your face. You may not engage in activities that may defile your appearance. I will send Marion up at noon to remind you in advance. You are now dismissed, Mylene."

Once she left the dining room, Mylene trod back to her room, sulking miserably. She threw herself onto the bed and sobbed uncontrollably into her pillow as soon as she summoned her bedroom door shut. She couldn't believe what she had just heard from her father. She couldn't believe the 'delightful' news he'd brought to her. She couldn't believe neither one of her parents cared what she really felt when she heard those 'news'.

She was arranged to marry a lord—a complete stranger. Mylene was furious at her parents' decision to betroth her to a man that she'd never met in her life, a man she hardly even knew. Her biggest fear was about to come true – her fear of being forever tied to her royal background, and from the looks of the situation at the moment, it appeared as though all her hopes and dreams of breaking free were going to be lost. Everything she had dreamed of would vanish just like that, when she weds Lord Batista and becomes his wife. She hadn't met the guy met, but she had a funny feeling she would never have a chance of experiencing reality ever again.

Mylene's thoughts clashed with one another as she continued to shed tears into her pillow, ignoring the smudged make-up escaping through her tears.

My life is over, thought the Mylene who had lost confidence and cut off all belief in faith, I have to marry that damned man and my life will be over. I might as well say goodbye to all my hopes and dreams of ever breaking out of this palace and experiencing reality.

The other side of Mylene's thoughts, however, thought differently. No, I can't marry Lord Batista. My father can't tell me what to do any longer; I'm twenty-three years old, for heaven's sake. I'm not a child anymore; I can make my own decisions. Just because I'm the first in line to the throne, doesn't mean he can boss me around like I'm his slave. I am his daughter, not a servant. Why can't he just realize that I don't want to marry the guy purely because of some stupid ancient law that our ancestors for some reason cursed upon me? Why can't he realize that if I were to marry, I would marry for love, not for power?

The debate thundering in Mylene's ears drove her to tears; she couldn't think properly with these conflicting thoughts in her head.

"Princess!" Marion's call from other side of the door followed with frantic knocking, "Mylene? Dear, are you there?"

"I'm in here, Marion," moaned Mylene softly. Thankfully, Marion was a woman of sharp ears and opened the door. She hurriedly rushed over Mylene's bedside and sat her up. She gasped upon the sight of her darling princess, her cheeks flushed and her eyes reddened, while her make-up was smudged messily. Her hair had also come out of its elegant braid and now it was disheveled and out-of-place.

"Oh my God, dear, what happened?" exclaimed Marion, after frantically rushing over to the bathroom and fetching a wet towel so she could wipe off the smudged make-up from Mylene's face. Mylene threw her arms around Marion and sobbed.

"I can't do this…"

"Can't do what, sweetie?" asked Marion worriedly, stroking Mylene's hair softly and gently, trying to comfort her and calm her down.

"I can't marry that man, Marion! I can't marry a stranger!" wailed Mylene, "I'm only twenty-three!"

"Is that what the big news your father wanted to deliver was?" asked Marion. The miserable princess nodded, "who did he arrange for you to marry, my dear?"

"Some lord guy named Dave Batista," replied Mylene, "I don't care if he's rich or has a big house with everything he could possibly have; I'm not marrying him!"

"Have you met him yet?"

"No…"

"Sweetie, then how can you decide whether you like him or not? You haven't even met the guy yet," said Marion.

"But Marion, marrying this guy will mean my life is completely over!" protested Mylene, "everything I've wanted for so long has to be taken away by this out-of-the-blue arranged marriage!"

Besides a motherly figure, Marion had been Mylene's counselor, listening patiently as Mylene poured out all of her thoughts and feelings consistently going through her mind. Several times before, Marion was always there to comfort Mylene and give her guidance. She knew every single thing about Mylene that even the King and Queen didn't know.

"Marion, I know you've heard this over and over again, but I've dreamed of breaking free of the constraints of royalty and breaking out the palace, just to venture into the outside world," sniffled Mylene quietly, "for years I've dreamed of experiencing reality, just like every single normal citizen of Secretum. I've dreamed of doing things that everyday citizens do, like taking long walks and going on adventures. But now, all of my hopes and dreams of ever being normal have been destroyed. I don't know what to do, Marion, you have to help me. I can't live under this roof any longer. I hate my life! I hate this life! I hate being a damned princess who's forced to marry a damned lord!"

"Calm down, princess, and please listen to me," hushed Marion. She had heard Mylene rant about the same complaints over and over again, but patient Marion knew how badly Mylene was suffering from the dying want she craved for her entire life. She was empathetic towards the restrictions Mylene had been forced to live under for her entire life. She completely understood the princess's absence of freedom and happiness, the lack of warmth and contentment she received from her less-than-attentive parents.

The poor girl just needs some love and joy to bring into her life; it's such a pity her parents worry more about the country than they care about their own daughter, thought Marion, as she held the distressed maiden close in her embrace, oh, if only I could have a word with those uncaring, selfish monarchs who call themselves her parents. They should honestly consider at least spending a bit of time with her, take her out to a carnival or something, instead of keeping her cooped up in this damned prison she is forced to call her home.

"Mylene, my dear, I know you hate being a princess," said Marion, "I know you hate palace life. I know you hate living under the roof of your parents who don't appear to care about you. But as much as you and I both would love to, neither one of us can do anything about that. We can't argue with your father as much as we'd love nothing more than to protest his decision to betroth you to this lord. I'm so sorry, Mylene, I'm so sorry you're forced to go through all this even though you don't want to."

"I just don't understand why my parents just don't want to listen to me speak my mind," sobbed Mylene, "I'm sick of them treating me this way. All my father does is yell at me and criticize for everything I do and my mother doesn't do anything but sit there and follow along with his word like she doesn't have a mind of her own. Why can't they just let me be normal and let me go outside and adventure?"

"I honestly don't know why they are so hesitant in allowing you to step outside the palace walls, sweetie," sighed Marion, "but whatever it is, you still have to follow your father's orders—after all, he is the king."

"Just because he's the king of Secretum doesn't mean he governs my life, Marion," argued Mylene, "he thinks he can make all the decisions for me and slip away before I can express my opinion on the decisions he makes. Most of the time, those decisions are ones that I particularly dislike."

"Mylene, dear, stay strong," advised Marion, "perhaps you could try and convince your father to pull you out of the arrangement."

"I wouldn't bet on it, Marion; even if I did try and convince my father to call off the wedding, I still wouldn't be entirely home free either," replied Mylene, shaking her head, "even if I do somehow manage to persuade my father to cancel the engagement, I'll still be confined to these damned barriers of royalty."

Marion let out a hopeless sigh. "Oh Mylene, I honestly wish I could help you, I really do," whispered Marion, "but if I disobey my orders, your father will have not just I, but the both of us thrown into prison."

Mylene's heart sank. Prison was much, much worse than what she was living in at the moment. She'd heard about the palace dungeon prisons of Secretum – they were absolutely dreadful. Pests swarmed the muddy, gravel grounds of the cells, and the prisoners suffered awfully, their living conditions so foul and unhygienic it drove them crazy. Mylene winced upon the thought of being completely blocked off from sunlight and fresh air.

"I suppose I should be grateful for what I have for now," breathed Mylene, sitting up straight and pushing her hair back away from her tear-stained face, "but I'll eventually think of something that'll free me from my future marriage and this horrible incarceration I called my home for the past 23 years."

"Good girl," said Marion, helping Mylene get up from the bed and cleaning her up again, fetching a pretty dress from the closet and the makeup kit to give the princess a makeover.

Someday, I'll be free from this palace, thought Mylene, as Marion redid her hair and make up to get ready for lunch, someday, I'll think of a plan that'll get me out of here. Someday, it's going to happen. Someday, I'll bid farewell to royalty and finally be free of all the constraints of being a princess. Oh, I hope that day will come soon!

"Come darling," said Marion, slowly escorting Mylene, who was clutching onto her arm tightly and nervously, "let's go and do what you have to do."