Disclaimer: Characters are the property of Akira Toriyama. I do not own anything.

Note: I apologize if there are some grammar/spelling mistakes in my story, English is not my first language.

I read the old version this story again yesterday and there were a lot of parts that made me cringe. So I've decided to rewrite it and give it another shot. I will be making changes in the story line. Especially when it comes to Bulma, because she's just too much of damsel in distress in the old version and I really can't stand that. This means that the old version is gone. I've deleted it. I do however hope that you guys will read the new version of The Unwanted Bride.

I hope you enjoy!

Prologue

I am a leader...

They are told that they should listen to me, because if they don't, he will show no mercy.

I am a goddess…

They are told that they should worship me, because if they don't, he again, will show no mercy, for he is not merciful.

I am everything. I have everything, but still, I am nothing. I am nothing more than another slave who slowly awaits the day that death will set her free.

I sleep…alone.

I awake…alone.

Days pass by without a word being said to me. Time ticking by, listening to the mocking sound of the clock…It drives me crazy.

It's actually quite ironic. You see, I'm a married woman and not just any married woman. I married a king a very powerful king. He's not the ruler of a country, nor is he the ruler of a world. He's the ruler of this whole entire universe. There have been killed millions in his name. Battles have been fought and planets have been conquered, he slowly but surely took it all. And all it takes is just the sound of his name to make people tremble of pure fear. But still, I'm married to him, surely he won't hurt me, why would he have taken me as his wife, his queen if he wants to hurt me? I should be happy right? He gave me power, so much power. There are a lot of persons out here who would love to possess the power that I have and if I could I would gladly give it to them because I do not wish to be his wife…I don't want to be the wife of a dictator who destroyed my world and its people, It's painful. There are no words in this universe that can describe how I felt the moment I was forcefully pushed in front of that altar so he could take my hand in marriage. It feels like treason, treason towards my own people…It's hard to even look into the mirror, guilt and shame eating away at me.

It seems that in all of my self-pity, I have forgotten to introduce myself. How impolite of me. Although, politeness is something you rarely see around these places and the truth is that I have become very bitter. I hope you can forgive me for that, I just haven't been my normal self for quite some time. My name is Bulma, Bulma Briefs. I was born and raised on a planet called Earth. A beautiful and magnificent planet, with the bluest skies you can ever imagine and crystal clear waters. How I miss it, how I miss those days in which there were no worries. The comfortable warmth of the sun caressing my skin, the smell of wildflowers tickling my nose, the soothing sound of a friendly summer breeze somewhere in the distance. I can go on for hours describing how beautiful and breathtaking my planet was, but even thinking about it makes me want to cry out in nothing more but pure agony. It feels like someone is stabbing me between my ribs with a blunt knife. So I'd rather not talk about Earth, the memories are just too painful.

I used to be a scientist and a pretty good one too, if I say so myself. I was the proud daughter of the founder of Capsule Corporation. One of the biggest technological companies on Earth. With our fine inventions we have made a lot of lives easier and it was our mission to proceed on doing so until they came. And by ''they'' I mean the Saiyans. I have never seen a day as dark as that fateful day and if I close my eyes I can still hear the horrified screams of women being raped and men being murdered. I can still see my mother…her eyes wide open, just lying there in a pool of her own deep red blood. I'm sorry but, I can't tell you anything more about what happened. The memories are just too painful and if I think about them too much, I'm afraid that I'll loose my sanity and that's the only thing I have left. Fact is that I, Bulma Briefs, catched king Vegeta's eye which resulted in me becoming his mate, his lawful wife. How bitter is that? To be married against your will to the mass murderer who is responsible for killing your people and destroying your planet? If there is a God he must desperatley hate me.

So now I am the queen of the Saiyans and the rest of this damn universe, however, even though my pain and sorrow, there is one thing above all that keeps me going and that is the knowledge that this barbaric race, those goddamn Saiyans hate me more than anything else. They can not and will not understand why their king married an alien. How they would love to see my head on a stake and shove their king in the bed of pureblooded Saiyan woman. The idea of a hybrid prince makes them sick. But how can you defy the most powerful man of the universe? So I feed on their hate, it gives me strenght. They will never tell me they despise me because that would be treason and treason means death. So they act polite, but I can see the icy glares and I hear the hateful whispers through the hallways of this palace. I don't mind. Why should I? It makes me feel alive, a little bit less dead inside. Besides, they don't know that their king still hasn't touched me. No, their king hasn't consummated his marriage yet. He hasn't even set foot in these quarters…yet…

Still, I'm better off than those poor souls in the slave quarters, they don't have anything anymore, they're just empty shells of their former selfs and I don't see anything but emptiness in their eyes. I feel so sorry for them, but the sad truth is that there is nothing I can do for them. Because in the end, even though I am a queen, I'm just a prisoner, locked away in a golden cage.

So here I am, queen of the Saiyans. They don't want me and I don't want them. How ironic can life be…