My Prince (Septiplier)

Chapter One.

Prince Mark Fischbach's birthday was going to be a big affair, like every year. 

First he had an afternoon lunch with the special guests to the kingdom, then a short rest before meeting with his royal advisories, no doubt about finding a nice, young, wealthy woman to have an heir with. Another short rest before an evening dinner with a good number of royalty and members of the upper classes from the surrounding kingdoms, a final rest to get himself prettied up, before ending the day with a royal ball.

It was all that had been talked about for months. The decoration, the guests, the orchestra, the refreshments, etc. It had all been planned so it would all be perfect, right down to the bubbles in the champagne. Which, unfortunately, wasn't a joke.

The guests from the lunch and the dinner were going to be there, but it had been decided that a select few members of the public would be invited. Not the kind Mark would have wanted there, though, all of them were the complete uppercrust of society. It made Mark feel nauseous.

He was looking forward to none of it. He would have much rather of had a quiet day surrounded by old friends and his family, but he reminded himself that he is a prince, and that royal duties came before his own enjoyment, apparently.

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He woke up, sighed, and turned over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. 

"Happy birthday to me." He mumbled.

He absolutely dreading the days events. 

The lunch and the meeting wouldn't be to bad, but it was just so... Formal? Organised? He didn't know what to call it, but if everything was a little more relaxed he would find it far more enjoyable. He could just tell the dinner and the ball were going to be torture. They were probably all lovely people in their own rights, he was sure. But so many of them? All at once? With their attention on him? 

To some people, it would be paradise. But to him it was going to be hell.

He wished he could be doing something more productive today. Charity work, visiting the townsfolk, anything other than being subjected to painful talk of royalty and gossip and if he had found a princess yet. 

God, that question. It always irked him for some reason he could never quite understand. He figured it was because he had been asked it so much. He supposed he could just marry the next pretty woman his advisories set him up with, but he wanted their relationship to mean something. To be more than a status symbol and more than a title.

After a few minutes of being lost in his thoughts there was a knock on the door. He blinked, snapping out of it. He called for them to come in and sat up. 

It was one of the palaces staff to come and get him ready for the day. He smiled at them, but inside he felt like he would rather die than go through with any of this.

"Here we go." he thought to himself before getting out of bed.

"Happy birthday. Yeah, right."