Happy Holidays! Hope you're having a fantastic week, whatever you might be celebrating. Don't have much to say, this week. Thanks for the continued support and love. Enjoy!

Chapter Ten

The morning before the feast was all but complete chaos. People were running left and right to make sure everything was in order. It was impossible to walk through the halls without running into someone panicking about the event. One would think that a war was about to start.

Vegeta was rushed around from person to person to get ready, for that evening. The seamstresses had a collective aneurysm when he said that his good armor was destroyed, last night. So, he had to stand still for hours, so that they could construct a new chest plate. It made him feel like a doll. When it was done, he had a finer piece of armor to wear. The gold was more metallic, and the Saiyan royal crest was printed in red on the right breastplate. A long red cape was pinned to the shoulder plates, as well. Once he was dressed, he was shipped off to pose for a royal portrait – which meant more hours of standing perfectly still. When the Tuffles ruled, a portrait would be painted of their leader, when they came into power. Vegeta I liked this idea, and adopted it for when the men of their family became of age.

Nappa entered the room, while it was still being painted. Vegeta glanced over at him "What do you want, Nappa?"

"Just came to see how you were holding up. And to make sure you weren't killing one of the artisans. How are you feeling?"

He groaned. "I just want this day to be over."

"Oh, cheer up. After a couple more hours of this, you can relax and enjoy the feast. Speaking of which – Raditz wanted to talk to you, beforehand. Says he has a present for the birthday boy."

He put his hand on his forehead. "Why do I let myself around that buffoon?"

"Hey! Stand still," yelled the painter. Vegeta crossed his arms and resumed his previous stance.

"Are the guests beginning to arrive?"

"Hundreds of them. You're probably not going to like a lot of them."

"Fantastic…" He knew this meant the other suitors were coming back. They wouldn't give up a chance to become queen that easily. A small smirk formed on his face. They were going to be severely disappointed, when Bulma showed up as his date. He couldn't wait to see their faces.

He still couldn't believe that she was alive, this whole time. Not only alive, but she had managed to trick the entire court into thinking that she was a Saiyan princess. He still had so many questions. He had to know how she managed to survive her encounter with Frieza, or how she managed to become a convincing Saiyan. One thing was certain, though – he would not lose her, again.

"So, is the princess going," Nappa asked.

He shrugged. "She said she would, after my father invited her. Why do you care?"

"I heard that you showed her around the palace, yesterday, and that you were the one who invited her to dinner, last night. Is there something you're going to tell your father tonight?"

He scoffed. "I'm not ready to mate with the damn girl, if that's what you're implying. She's just more… charming than I thought she was."

Nappa held back a laugh. His tinted cheeks didn't pass him. This reminded him of how the elder Vegeta was when he met Cauli. The apple never did fall far from the tree. "Whatever you say, kiddo."

"Do you have anything else to talk about, or are you just going to question me about my love life?"

"Actually, there's one other thing. I was told that you were in the medical ward, last night. Did something happen?"

"No, there is not. I just over-exerted myself while training, again. I'm fine, now."

He could tell that he was fibbing. From what he had heard, he was more than just exhausted. It was so bad that apparently the princess hauled him there, herself. Nappa was worried that he had another episode. Still, he seemed fine, now. Maybe he was just being a worrywart.

"Just know that if you need anything, I'm here for you."

"I won't need it. I can handle my problems on my own, Nappa."

"Whatever you say."

The painter pointed at Nappa. "Could you leave for a few minutes? Until I can get the pose just right, I can't have my model distracted."

Nappa nodded, and looked back at Vegeta. "Happy coming of age, Vegeta. I'll see you, tonight." Vegeta nodded back at him, and he left the room.

Bulma woke up early in the afternoon. Tonight was the big fest, and she wanted to be ready for it. She walked around the palace, trying to figure out what to expect. Even that early, the decorations and preparations were almost ready. The walls were decorated with ribbons, curtains, and torches. There were large tables set up across the room, able to hold a plethora of food and drink. There was even a band setting up, in one of the corners of the room.

While looking around, she saw a group of Saiyan women conversing with each other. The assumed leader was dressed in a fine cape and jewelry, on top of her normal armor. Bulma never saw that many women around the palace, so she went up to greet them. Maybe they would be friendly.

"Hi there," she said.

The head woman turned around to face her, and nodded at her. "Hello."

"I've never seen you around the court, before. Who are you?"

She scoffed. "Were you born, yesterday? I am General Cebolla. The strongest Saiyan woman on the planet. And who might you be?"

"Oh. I'm Princess Chou of Laitue. Nice to meet you!" She extended her hand, for a shake.

"Never heard of your kingdom, before. Are you here for the prince, too?"

She was confused. "Excuse me?"

"You don't know? Today is his coming of age. This means he has to choose a mate, by the end of the evening. Whoever that is will become Queen of the Saiyans, one day. Planet Vegeta could use some female guidance. Look at how we've stagnated, since Queen Cauli died. That brat is going to need someone to keep him on task, I bet you."

She started feeling defensive. "Vegeta isn't a brat. He can be kind of a prick, at times, but he's a good man underneath all of that."

She laughed. "Oh, you sweet naïve little thing. You clearly aren't from around here. Vegeta's turned down literally every single girl who's tried to get in his good graces. He didn't do it out of retaliation – he just did it for a petty rebellion streak. The king's too softhearted towards his son to do anything about it. Eventually, it's going to stop, if the Vegeta family wants to keep the throne. When that happens, a strong and prideful Saiyan woman will rule by his side. Like me."

She rolled her eyes. "If by strong and prideful, you mean haughty and pretentious, then certainly. You'd be perfect."

She could see her lower eyelid flinch – she certainly struck a nerve. "Scoff all you want, but that's exactly what this kingdom needs. I'm sure you're a nice girl, so I suggest you leave before you get your heart broken, tonight. After all, what sort of chance does a no-name princess have at winning over a Saiyan elite?"

As the group looked away, Bulma heard the Saiyan woman's posse chuckling and giggling with each other. If all of the other suitors were like this, then it was no wonder why he ran all of them out of the palace. She would show them – she would prove to them that a 'no-name princess' could be just as prestigious as any other Saiyan woman could.

Bulma quickly realized a problem – she had nothing to wear, besides her current armor. It wasn't nearly fancy enough. She doubted that Vegeta would care, but she really wanted to show those stuck-up elites up, and leave an impression on everyone. If she could get a hold of some stray materials and tools, then she could probably construct something quickly. With new determination, she ran to the library. There was research that had to be done.

Vegeta still had some time to kill, before the feast started. He put on a clean spandex suit, and went down to the training room. Getting out his frustration beforehand would keep him from wanting to blast a guest, later that evening.

The night before, amidst his panic attack, he had surpassed his previous limits. He wondered if he could do it again, without just pure anger. Though emotion was key to unlocking many Saiyan's true potential, learning to control those emotions helped hone in that power. He slowly began powering up, again. If he could hold that power for just a few minutes, then that would be a step in the right direction. For curiosity's sake, he put up a small bot with a power-level tracker attached to it. The numbers didn't matter to him, but he could at least compare himself to the other fighters, with it.

The ground and walls began to shake around him, and pieces of the floors tiles began to rise. He let out a long scream, as his aura flashed around him. The numbers on the bot climbed and climbed, with every second. 18,000… 19,000… 20,000… 22,000… 25,000… before the number could get any higher, the bot exploded into pieces. As he felt he reached his limit, he stopped powering up.

In all of his life, he never felt this kind of strength, before. His muscles and skin were tingling, with power. He never would have thought that he could reach this level. If the bot was correct, he might have surpassed his own father. Still, he couldn't get cocky and complacent. He knew there was an even greater level of power to achieve.

He threw a ki-ball against the wall, expecting it to bounce off, as it normally did. Instead, it completely obliterated the steel sidings, almost breaking the entire wall. He made a mental note to alert the mechanics about this.

There was a knock on the door. Vegeta groaned, and lowered his power back, again. When he opened it, he was greeted by Raditz, standing with a hand behind his back.

Vegeta stepped around him, expecting to be followed. In all of their years of being friends, Vegeta stopped arguing when Raditz came by to visit. He was just as stubborn as he was. "What do you want?"

"So, tell me – how does it feel being of age?"

"Doesn't feel any different than it did, a day ago."

Raditz slapped him, on his back. "Quit being such a killjoy. You're the man of the hour! At least try to live a little."

"This can't be all you've come to harass me over." Sure enough, he shoved a box in his face. "What the heck is this?"

"I learned from some foreigners that some planets give people stuff, on their birthdays. I thought it was a cool idea, so here you go."

Vegeta scoffed, but took the box from his hand. "A day of birth is hardly an occasion worthy for presents." He weighed it in his hands, before taking the top of the box off. Inside, there were two medallions, both attached to silver chains. One was engraved with an Oozaru, the Saiyan Great Ape; the other was engraved with a simple conch shell.

Raditz began explaining, before he asked any questions. "The Oozaru one is meant for you. It's symbolic of you reaching your maturity; just as we reach our full potential as Great Apes, and just as your father reached his potential during the fight against the Tuffles. That and I thought it would look good with your armor."

He was surprised. This was quite thoughtful, of him. Regardless of how much he mocked him, Raditz was the closest thing to a friend that Vegeta ever had. He wouldn't trade him for anything. Of course, he would never tell him that.

He pointed at the other medallion. "What about that one?"

"Well, you don't have to use it tonight, but it's meant for your intended. Don't choose them out of haste – wait until you know for sure. The shell is supposed to symbolize you calling out to your mate… or something like that. I didn't quite get what the jeweler was explaining to me, when I bought it."

"You bought this. With your own money."

Raditz shrugged. "I had to take out a couple loans for it, but it was worth it."

Vegeta took out the Oozaru medallion, and closed the lid. He didn't see himself using the other one anytime soon. "You are far too sentimental for your own good."

Raditz knew that was the closest he was going to get to a 'thank you'. "Maybe so. Anyways, I think you should be getting ready. Your father will probably lose it, if you're late."

He knew that was true, so he hurried down the hallway. The sooner he got ready, the sooner he'd be done with this nonsense.

Bulma sat in the guestroom, putting the finishing touches on her new outfit. She had the only art book in the library sitting next to her, opened to a rendering of ancient Saiyan formalwear. Using that as a base, she came up with a rough idea of what she wanted the finished dress to look like. She grabbed whatever spare armor plates and fabrics she could get from the seamstresses, and brought them back to her room.

Along the way, she ran into Zarbon. He was nice enough to help her carry her things, back to her room. He was still such a gentleman, and so very kind. They chatted about the feast; he was planning on going, as well.

"If you'll allow me to ask," he said, "is that what all of this is for?"

"That's right. I'm making something new, to wear."

"I'm sure you'll look ravishing, regardless. But you'll have to be an expert seamstress to make something, in time."

"I can handle it, don't you worry."

For the next several hours, she constructed the dress. She had designed clothing before, but nothing quite to this scale or in this short of a time frame. Bulma was never one to back down from a challenge, so she continued with her plan.

Piccolo had come out of the Dragon Ball while she was working, and she didn't seem to notice. She was too engrossed in her work to care. He had never seen her quiet and focused, before. She mentioned something about being an inventor and an engineer, but he thought nothing of it. Now, he saw a bit of proof, even if it was in a different field.

Bulma finished hemming the skirt, and laid the finished product on the bed. "There! All finished!" She looked at the clock. "And just half an hour to spare!" She walked up to the mirror, and gussied up, a bit.

"You know, I could have made you something if you just wished for it."

She nodded. "I know. I just thought I could do it better, myself. You're not a mind reader, after all."

He should have expected that response. If egotism were a Saiyan's defining trait, she wouldn't even need the tail. Still, this brought up some concern. "You are planning on using your last wish, right?"

"I am. I just don't know what to use it for, yet." She tossed her chest plate off and grabbed the dress. "Hey, Piccolo. Mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What would you wish for?"

Now, he was surprised. No one had ever asked him something like that, before. None of his masters ever cared to know about him. As much as Bulma got on his nerves, she was not the same as the others. She actually seemed to care about him and how he felt. He found it hard to wrap his head around – she barely knew him, after all.

He didn't respond. It was not because he didn't know; if he were given a wish, he would give his answer on the spot. It was because he had never voiced it to anyone. He didn't feel like starting with Bulma. He felt like protecting her innocence and naiveté from his bad past.

Bulma noticed how quiet he had gotten, all of a sudden. His eyes were glued to the floor. "Are you embarrassed by it? I wished to be a different race to get a boyfriend, Piccolo. I don't think I'm in any place to judge."

"Let it go, Bulma. I don't want to talk about it."

That shut her up. When he used her name, instead of just 'kid', she knew he was being serious. She dropped the subject, but she wanted to know. She certainly wasn't going to use her last wish on herself, anytime soon.

Bulma grabbed a necklace she borrowed, and quickly put it on. "Don't worry about the feast – I'll go by myself, tonight."

Piccolo glanced up at her. "You're sure about that."

"Yeah. I can handle it fine, tonight. I'm gonna be with Vegeta for most of it, anyway. Unless you want to go, then I won't stop you."

He snorted. "No thank you."

Bulma looked over herself, in the mirror. For the first time since the wish was made, she felt like a princess. She knew she hit the jackpot, with this get-up. "Well, I better get going. Don't want to miss the dancing." She ran towards the door.

"Have fun, kid."

She looked back at Piccolo, and smiled at him. "I will. Thank you, for everything."

"Just get out there before you start crying."

She laughed. "Okay, I'm going!" She slipped out the door, and went down to the party.