Prologue: A Child's Dream
July 18, 2078
It was the child's seventh birthday today. She was beautiful, just like her mother, and there was no doubt in her parents' minds that she would grow into an intelligent, independent queen one day. And when her father, the King, passed away, she would take the throne and show her planet and her people just how dedicated she was to them. She had been raised for her future role as Queen since she could speak.
The child's name was Bulma Briefs, princess and heir to the throne of Planet Earth. She had long aquamarine locks and bright blue eyes to match. She walked down the carpeted staircase to the large dining area to celebrate her seventh birthday with her beloved parents and their advisors. Her long auburn gown was adorned with gems and jewels and lace, and she wore matching flat shoes of the same color. Her hair had been pulled back and curled by the maids for her dinner on this special occasion.
Bulma stepped through the doorway into the dining room as two guards opened the double doors for her. They shut them behind her and she stepped to her seat, holding her head high. Her parents were already seated and they watched her with pride. One of the butlers came up behind her to pull out her chair.
"Bulma, dear. How was your afternoon? We haven't seen you all day," her mother, the Queen asked politely. Bulma lifted the hem of her gown as she sat in her chair lined with red velvet and seated with a red silk on red oak.
"I have been catching up on my studies, Mother," she replied in the same polite tone.
"On your birthday?" her mother asked, "My, you are a very dedicated young woman. I'm sure you're very excited about your future."
"What were you studying?" her father, the King asked, and Bulma noted on his cautious tone. She was always in her room, reading books, and she knew how that made her father feel sometimes.
"Only the history of your beloved planet, Father. You do know that it is my favorite thing to learn about these days."
"Oh? And what time period have you been reading about this morning and afternoon?"
Bulma gulped. Was it possible that her father knew her secret? She thought she'd hidden it very well. She never left her books out, and she never received them from anyone whom her parents could trace or track. Most of her secret reading material came from the maids and butlers, and her favorite small collection had been given to her as a gift from a stranger on the streets when she was riding into town one day.
Bulma's secret was that she had been reading books that had been written long ago, by authors that no one remembered. Her parents monitored the books she had been given as a child, saying that a princess should not be reading certain things because it was improper for royalty to do as the common people did. But Bulma had quite a few books that she knew her parents would never approve of. They were epic tales of heroes and damsels in distress, and she loved them more than anything in the world. She loved to read about women in armor going off to battle in secret, and the poor young boys that would fall in love with a woman they believed they could never have. As a child, Bulma delighted in stories that she could relate to, and tales of heroism that she wished she could experience for herself.
But she was being prepared for the throne, and there were no decisions she could make on her own until she was of age. Bulma dreamed of that day, when she would glorify herself in adulthood and make her own choices. She wanted to go out and see the world. She'd never been out of the town surrounding her palace, and she knew that there had to be more out there. Her books told her that much, and she grew increasingly curious over her short seven years of life.
"I have been reading about the Civil Wars that broke out across the planet when we stopped being separate nations and joined together. I am making sure I know how our world came to be the way it is now. After all, a princess must know all there is to know about the land she will govern one day. Isn't that right, Father?" she said. It was no easy task to trick her parents, but she had to admit that she did it quite well.
"It is indeed, Bulma," her father replied with the same proud smile her mother had given her earlier.
"It is very admirable that you would take so much care into learning at such a young age," her mother cooed, "But maybe it would be better if you began to read about the land you live in today, instead of delving into the past. The past is important, but the present is even more so."
"I will keep that in mind the next time I pick up a book, Mother," Bulma responded with a smile.
"Well now," her father said, clapping his hands together two times. The butlers straightened their postures and looked towards him. "Enough of this formal talk. It is my daughter's seventh birthday, and we will celebrate as such. Bring out the food." He clapped his hands together once more and the butlers scurried towards the kitchen. He then looked to Bulma with a grin. "And after we have rested following our meal, we will celebrate with the public. We will take a carriage to town and give the people a show. What do you say, Bulma?"
"That sounds wonderful, Father. I would sincerely enjoy that," she replied.
Bulma Briefs watched as the long dining table in front of her began to fill up with many plates and bowls of delicious food. She was poured a small glass of dry wine and she lifted it to her lips to taste the flavor. It was aged to perfection.
Bulma may have seemed like the perfect princess, but her thoughts always came back to adventure and the things she so desperately wanted to experience. She knew she would never be able to express these feelings to her parents, so she kept them bottled up for eleven more years. And when she finally came of age and was given the choice to make her own decisions and live her life how she wanted to, she took full advantage of the golden opportunity.
Princess Bulma had finally grown up…
