The three of them stood at the entrance to the throne room, waiting to be summoned.

"I refuse to act like this was my idea," Vegeta hissed to his wife, who was adjusting the folds of his cape unnecessarily.

"Well, it has to be somebody's idea." Bulma plucked at the shoulder straps of her backless dress, a silvery thing that clung and flowed like water. She had worn it to an awards ceremony on Earth the year before, and she figured no one in this universe would know she'd worn the same dress twice.

"People can't know I had to arrange my own marriage," Bulla scolded. She was wearing one of the dresses Piccolo had made her, dark blue speckled with silver that looked like the night sky. It went to her knees in front and gently whispered across the ground in back and it made her look about ten years older, to Vegeta's chagrin.

"We are not arranging your marriage!" Vegeta growled through his teeth. "You are fourteen. You shouldn't even be dating yet."

Bulla inhaled sharply, but before she could object, the massive double doors in front of them swung open, and as one the three of them threw back their shoulders, lifted their chins, and strode sedately forward.

Vegeta had chosen to wear the armor and cape traditional to his own royal house, and he hoped he was the only one feeling the lack of battle skirts and medallion. The tailors here hadn't quite been able to make something that matched his memories, and the medallion… that had been lost with his father, never to be recovered. The line of kings had ended— in Universe 7, at least.

"Announcing Prince Vegeta of the royal house of Vegeta, Princess Consort Bulma of Capsule Corporation, and their daughter, Princess Bulla."

It was a mess of titles that didn't fit together, but Bulla had refused to accept that she wasn't technically a princess and Bulma had pointed out, rightly, that she hadn't married into Vegeta's family, he had married into hers. Though she'd been happy enough to accept the title princess anyway.

The small family strode down the aisle toward the throne in a room where the ceiling was so high it disappeared. At the end of the room was the King, a man Cabba had told Vegeta he resembled. The escort in front of them made it so he didn't catch a glimpse of the man until he was right in front of him, when the escort bowed out of the way and the three of them stood face to face with the King.

Beside him Vegeta heard Bulma stifle a gasp.

The man sitting on the throne didn't look exactly like him. They could never play prince and pauper convincingly. But they could have easily been brothers: the King's hair was somewhat shorter and swept back at a sharper angle; Vegeta's eyes were larger and he looked younger, but other than that they shared so many features that if it weren't obviously impossible they would have to be assumed to be related. In fact, their resemblance was so striking that the King himself stood abruptly from his throne, something they had been told he was not going to do, and stared openly at Vegeta.

They had been given strict instructions not to speak until invited to do so, so Vegeta stood and stared defiantly back as the King's eyes darted all over his face, a slight frown of concentration furrowing a brow just slightly more hooded than Vegeta's. In his peripheral vision Vegeta caught sight of a woman sitting on another throne, but he kept his eyes on the King's. Eventually the monarch sat back in his throne with a slight thud, still staring.

"Greetings, Prince Vegeta," the King said, and his voice, mercifully, was nothing like Vegeta's own: smooth and cultured instead of rough and gravelly. "I have heard much about you from young Cabba. Welcome to Sadala."

The three of them bowed.

"Thank you," Vegeta said. "He has told me about you as well. It has long been my intention to come here and see this world for myself."

The King's eyes turned kind.

"Yes, I am given to understand that in your universe the Saiyans have not been nearly so… fortunate as we have been."

"I am one of only a handful left," Vegeta said without a twinge. "Sadala was lost to us long before that. But these are matters best left in the past. It is of…" he grit his teeth, "happier matters that I have come to speak with you about."

"Indeed," the King said, smiling a knowing smile that Vegeta took to mean he'd been apprised of this as well. "I would be pleased to offer my assistance in this matter. I have no sons of marriageable age, but I know of many young men of good standing and character I could recommend."

Vegeta heard his daughter suppress a squeal, and ground his teeth hard enough to hear.

"That would be... " He couldn't say 'appreciated'. "Acceptable."

The King chuckled. "My open court hours are nearly done. Let us adjourn to my office that we may make plans."

The King's office was an opulent room clearly more suited to entertaining guests than doing paperwork. Vegeta wondered if there was another, less tidy room where the King got his actual work done, or if he simply relied on his army of secretaries to keep his affairs neat. The Queen and Bulma sat with Bulla on a low couch while they drank tea and got down to the business of planning out the girl's courtship. Vegeta tried not to listen.

"She is a lovely girl," the King said. The two men were standing at a large picture window overlooking a breathtaking view of the capital city, though there seemed to be just as many trees as buildings. Sadala was purple and blue, verdant and alive. Nothing like the harsh red deserts of Vegeta. His ancestors had destroyed their Sadala in a civil war, as though power were worth more than having solid ground to stand on. There was a time when he understood that mindset. Now it only made him tired.

"She is too headstrong," Vegeta said, taking a drink of his tea. The King raised an eyebrow.

"That is not a bad thing, surely? She will grow into her good sense in time."

"Not before she shaves decades off my lifespan," Vegeta muttered.

"And that is no great loss either, is it?" The King looked at Vegeta cannily, one eyebrow raised. "As a future destroyer, you will have plenty of life to live."

The interest in his voice made Vegeta look at him more closely. So far the King had only resembled him superficially, but Cabba had always made it sound as though they were alike in more meaningful ways. If he was King, and a powerful stranger appeared on his doorstep, what would he do?

He would test him, of course. Vegeta looked back out the window.

"I am told it's not quite that simple."

"But he is teaching you?"

Vegeta looked at the King sideways. On the couch Bulma laughed and the Queen joined in.

"Champa is teaching Cabba," he pointed out.

"Not to be a destroyer," the King countered. "Cabba has given up on god ki. He can use it, but only barely, and he has never been able to teach others its use."

"Is there a reason he should?" Vegeta asked mildly. "I thought Saiyans were the peace keepers of this universe. Surely an army of Super Saiyans is enough to keep down the riff raff?"

He watched a muscle in the King's jaw work, and waited. Finally the King spoke.

"Ever since our Earth was restored we've been getting rumblings of… strange occurrences. Rumors of technological advances far beyond anything we have in our arsenal. But every time we investigate, we find nothing. And then, as soon as we give up the search, another disturbing incident happens for which, when we investigate, we can find no cause."

"Disturbing incidents?" Vegeta frowned. "Like what?"

"Like entire cities vanishing in an instant. Like strange creatures that do not resemble any species in the known galaxies, more powerful each time they are observed, and more of them. My analysts are growing nervous."

"And you think god ki will help you?"

"My troops need training," the King ground out, a little too loud. The two men glanced at the women behind them, but they were studying headshots and did not seem to have noticed. Vegeta caught sight of Bulla tracing the sharp cheekbones of a handsome boy a little older than her and flicked his gaze away as though his eyes had been burned. "They are strong, the gods know, but they are complacent. Only half of them have attained Super Saiyan, and only a handful have taken it any further. They see no need. We can't make them aware of the threat if we aren't sure there is one, but with no threat to prepare for, they won't take things seriously."

Vegeta nodded. "And that's where I come in."

"If my troops could see how much farther they have to go it would motivate them to reach for those heights."

"Cabba told me he has unlocked a new form of Super Saiyan. That doesn't motivate them?"

The King's mouth twisted. "Cabba's method to unlock the form was… unorthodox. And painful. Some might also say artificial." Vegeta raised an eyebrow. The King shook his head. "In any case, it is nothing any of them are likely to emulate."

Vegeta frowned as he gazed out the window. Behind him the women debated this young man's reputation for kindness against another young man's intelligence, while Bulla made comments about their appearance. Putting the fear of Prince Vegeta into a bunch of arrogant soldiers sounded like just what he needed right now.

"It makes the gods nervous when mortals use god ki," he said.

The King smirked. "I don't see anything wrong with making the gods nervous, do you?"

Vegeta grinned.

It was decided that in addition to near nightly parties full of doting young men, Bulla would go to school, the better to understand the culture of her future intended, and to potentially meet other candidates for her heart.

Vegeta came very near to calling the whole thing off.

"Oh, stop," Bulma said, lightly slapping his arm. They were chaperoning the first such gathering, where fifteen young men hand-picked by the Queen herself were gathered to "get to know" the daughter of the man who would, tomorrow, begin training the royal troops. Bulla was drinking in the attention; currently she had four boys cajoling her to go Super Saiyan which she was coyly refusing to do, while five more were vying for her attention with stories of their own exploits. Vegeta's only comfort in all this was that every single boy in the room would occasionally glance nervously in his direction. Now if only he could go to school with her as well…

"We are not going home until Bulla is good and ready to go," Bulma told him. "I'm semi-retired, and she's so far ahead in school we could be here for months and it wouldn't be a problem."

"It would be a problem, all right," Vegeta muttered darkly.

"She needs this," Bulma reminded him.

"Does she?" He was serious this time. "You really think this will... help?"

"Vegeta, your daughter is as stubborn as you are. She's decided a Saiyan boy is the only one she'll have, and she's not going to change her mind until she's seen for herself what it's like."

"And if she decides she likes it?"

"She won't," Bulma said confidently. Vegeta side-eyed her and she smiled. "Trust me. I've been with a human and a Saiyan. I know which one she'll choose."

Vegeta gave his wife an incredulous look.

"You think she'll choose differently than you?"

"I know she will. I know my daughter, and she may look like me, but personality-wise she's got a lot more in common with you."

"Woman, I chose you because you are the most Saiyan-like human I've ever met."

"But I am still a human."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "I was not exactly replete with choices."

But Bulma remained smug.

Bulla laughed as two of the boys took off their shirts to compare scars. Vegeta squeezed his wine glass just short of breaking and prayed the woman was right.

The next day, Bulla went to school and Vegeta went to work.

Cabba met him at the chateau Bulma had purchased with the obscene amount of raw materials she had brought along: gold and platinum, cobalt and copper, diamonds and sapphires. They were as rich here as they were back on Earth. She apparently had plans to donate the building to an orphanage when they were done using it. Vegeta exited the front gate to find Cabba staring slack jawed at the enormous house, which circled around an entire tree, the canopy of which was the size of a city block.

"M-master!" he greeted when he noticed Vegeta, bobbing a quick bow. "I… I didn't know this building was a private residence."

"I don't think it is," Vegeta said wryly. "Only the best for my Bulma." Cabba blinked a few times, but then regained his composure and lifted into the air, gesturing for Vegeta to follow.

"I thought for today you could simply observe, maybe give them a demonstration," he said after a few minutes of awkward silence. Vegeta nodded.

"They are your personal troops? The King said they lack discipline."

He saw Cabba cringe slightly in the corner of his eye, but when he replied his tone was even.

"That's… not exactly it. There aren't many enemies in our universe that can stand up to even one Super Saiyan, much less an army of them. Most of the people that can put up a challenge are our allies. And they know it."

Vegeta frowned. "I see."

Cabba was right, Vegeta thought as he observed that morning's formation. The troops stood in their rows and gave crisp salutes and stared straight ahead and not at the strange visitor from another universe. They were orderly, neat, tidy. They clearly thought too well of themselves to be anything but.

No, undisciplined was indeed not the right word. What they lacked was hunger. They walked and spoke and carried themselves like they were the best, and they knew it, and they knew that everyone else knew it. And even the presence of the apprentice of a destroyer god did nothing to dampen that bone-deep self-assurance. Nothing in their universe was a challenge for them anymore, and so what they expected to see from Vegeta was an interesting light show and nothing more.

He was always happy to defy expectations.

After putting a few fools in their place Vegeta led the troops in relearning the basics. Most of them had neglected their base forms once attaining Super Saiyan, so instead of teaching them all god ki, he left it as a reward for those that did well. He thought by the time his daughter's nonsensical quest was over he might have turned them into something respectable— not that Cabba hadn't done well. But the power of Super Saiyan was heady, as he well knew, and had he not had Kakarot as a constant thorn in his side, always goading him to greater heights by his mere existence, he might have easily become as complacent as any of them.

They at least had the decency to leave suitor talk until the end of training.

Vegeta firmly, but firmly, declined all the mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, aunts and uncles of young men they all assured him were the best, the brightest, the most suited to being an apprentice destroyer's son-in-law. Eventually they got the message and left him alone about it. But there was one young woman who showed an unusually keen eye during training, and when her younger brother came to drop off her lunch Vegeta deigned to exchange a few words with the young man.

Teito was indeed polite, respectful, intelligent, and steady. He was also overawed by Vegeta's mere presence and had never dated anyone before. He was perfect.

Vegeta whistled all the way home.

Once he got there, however, only a message from Bulma greeted him, informing him that she had been utterly overwhelmed by all the technological delights of the Palace and would not be home until late and could he pick Bulla up from school, please?

Grumbling to himself, he was about to answer the message in the negative when he realized this was the perfect chance to introduce Bulla to Teito, who went to the same school she was attending.

When he arrived at the school he attracted a lot of stares, but no one seemed bold enough to actually approach, which suited him just fine. After a few minutes Teito emerged, caught sight of him, and went pale, though he kept his wits about him well enough to stammer out a greeting. Vegeta tried hard not to smile too much at the boy's discomfort. It was all well and good for a suitor to be afraid of him, but if the boy became family one day he'd want him to be able to spar without tripping over himself.

After nearly half an hour of awkward silence Bulla emerged with an entourage, which Vegeta noticed contained nearly as many girls as boys, though all the boys were tall and muscular and gorgeous. Lanky, plain-faced Teito gulped.

"Daddy!" Bulla chriped, smacking a kiss on his cheek. "This is Chisha and Auber and Kyuka and…" She introduced all twenty of them, or perhaps it only felt like that many. Vegeta nodded to the group, and then nodded toward Teito and introduced him.

"Hi," Bulla said distractedly. "Daddy, thanks for coming to get me, but we're going to the market. They're going to show me what the fashion is like here. I'll be home later to get ready."

She seemed ready to counter any objections, but Vegeta had none.

"Why don't you take Teito with you?" he said, and did not miss the way Bulla's smile slipped. Well. She just had to get to know him, that was all it would take, and then she would see.

"Okay," she said dubiously. "See you later daddy!" Teito awkwardly shuffled off behind the group, giving Vegeta a last glance. Vegeta nodded encouragingly, and Teito lifted his head and seemed to take courage. Vegeta went home beaming.

Bulla returned some hours later, regaling him with tales of clothes and color palettes and hairstyles. Her chattering continued unabated as she changed outfits and put on makeup and attempted to do up her hair in a Sadalan style, Vegeta listening to all of it with impatience.

"But what did you think of Teito?"

Bulla expertly applied her lipstick, smacking her lips in a kiss at herself in the mirror. "Oh, him? He was a total dullard, daddy."

She flounced toward the front door, and that was when Vegeta realized she was wearing another of Piccolo's dresses.

"Where are you going like that?" he demanded. She turned and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"There's a school dance tonight. We got here just in time. And don't worry," she added before he could object, "it's totally supervised and everything. Plus I think Her Majesty is sending some of her guards. So you don't need to worry. Bye daddy!"

And she was gone before he could get his wits about him.

Grumbling to himself, it was several minutes before he realized he had absolutely nothing to do. There was nowhere for him to train at his usual level, unless Bulma had remembered to pack the spare Gravity Chamber in her vast assortment of capsules. He had no desire to go bother her when she was enjoying herself and he was in such a foul mood. He'd find Cabba and bother him for some sparring, maybe get him to show him that new form the King had alluded to.

He went outside and sprang to the top of the tree, looking down over the city and trying to get his bearings, when a flash of light lit up his peripheral vision and Vados appeared next to him.

"Ah, Vegeta, there you are," she said.

He collected himself and bowed. "Vados. What can I do for you?"

"Two things," she said, plucking something out of thin air. "This is for you. Simply call me with it when you're ready to go home." Vegeta accepted the communicator and slipped it into his armor. Vados sighed. "My Lord Champa neglected to think of this before. He also neglected to fully understand the implications of your daughter's request, which is the second reason I am here."

Vegeta's throat constricted. Had his daughter invoked the ire of capricious gods, entities even he was still powerless against? Vados went on.

"Should your daughter find a partner, which universe was she planning on living in? My Lord Champa is torn. He could, of course, never accept losing even one of his mortals to Lord Beerus. On the other hand, her presence here would give you, Lord Beerus' apprentice, all the excuse in the world to visit, and My Lord Champa dislikes that idea as well for petty reasons I will not deign to articulate."

She waited politely for his answer. Vegeta had never been sure who made him more nervous, Whis, or his sister.

"The woman thinks it likely that she will choose no one, and return empty handed."

Vados arched a perfect eyebrow.

"Is that so? I suppose that would be the most convenient outcome, wouldn't it? But you say this is what Bulma thinks. What do you think, Vegeta?"

He gaped. Vados had never asked him for his opinion on anything, much less concerning his own daughter, whom he adored beyond reason but, he must admit, had never really understood. It took him a minute to even decide what to say.

"I think… she is used to getting what she wants. Though…" He paused, Vados waiting politely as he tried to codify his thoughts. "I do not think she knows what it is that she wants."

"I see." The angel looked thoughtfully out over the city. "Whis dotes on that girl so much I thought there must be something special about her. But if there is I certainly haven't seen it."

Don't get angry, Vegeta thought, swallowing his ire. Nothing good ever comes of getting angry at angels.

"Perhaps you simply haven't known her long enough," he said instead. Vados gave him a sly smile as she regarded him out of the corner of her eye.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, and tapped the end of her staff on thin air. "Goodbye for now, Vegeta."

She disappeared, and Vegeta breathed easy for the first time in minutes. He looked down at the communicator in his hand and prayed to a god he knew wasn't listening that he would get to use it soon.