"Cold!" was the boy's first comment as he and Vegeta stepped from the space ship onto Planet Fridga.
"You're right, Trunks. It is cold here," Vegeta agreed in the Saiyan language as they crunched through the snow.
They had landed in front of the palace of Fridga's ruler, King Nonignis. Servants quickly appeared, rolling out a red carpet that was brilliant against the white. King Nonignis strode down it towards Vegeta and his son, looking relieved.
"Greetings, Prince Vegeta," he said cheerfully.
"Greetings, your Highness," Vegeta replied.
He bowed, and Trunks imitated his father clumsily. The king chuckled.
"What is your name, youngest prince?" he asked.
The boy blushed and gripped his father's boot for comfort.
"Trunks," he whispered.
"We must get the little one inside and get down to business," declared Nonignis. "After all, the battle starts in half a moon's time."
Trunks mumbled something in Saiyan.
"Hmmm?" asked Nonignis.
"He wants to fight too," explained Vegeta as they started towards the palace.
"Ah. Are you going to be a mercenary like your father?" asked Nonignis.
"Yes. Like Papa," said Trunks firmly.
Trunks and Vegeta were soon settled in their luxurious guest house. Fireplaces were lit in every room, and all the furniture was covered in soft, thick fur pelts.
"Hungry," whined Trunks.
"I'll call the servants," Vegeta said, removing the boy's wet clothes.
Ever since ancient Curae had passed away, the two had only tried one other servant. Now they only had servants when they stopped at planets. Vegeta was, however, planning to hire help soon. His fighting talents were making him rich as a mercenary. After the battle on Ayuda had become known, planets under siege were willing to pay the Saiyan Prince any amount he required for his services.
"Call now," begged Trunks. "I'm cold and hungry," he added.
"You shouldn't have played in the snow, and besides," reasoned Vegeta, "the fires give off plenty of heat."
Vegeta dressed his son in the traditional body suit, of a saiyan. A servant soon came in with a cart full of food. Trunks squealed in delight and plunged into the food.
"Trunks, remember to eat with good table manners during dinner tonight because–"
"I should make a good impression since I'm a prince," recited Trunks, rolling his eyes. "You eat messy, Papa."
Vegeta raised an eyebrow.
"You'd better be polite or I'll hire Mala again," Vegeta threatened, referring to a nanny who had spanked his son only a few days before.
Trunks rubbed his stinging backside warily and winced as he remembered too late that it still smarted when bothered. His punishment for spilling juice had involved two things: his posterior and a switch. Vegeta had "disposed" of Mala as soon as Trunks had tearfully informed him why he couldn't sit down.
Late that night, Trunks lay in his warm bed, snuggled in the fluffy fur blanket. Soon a battle would be held between the Fridgans and the Agrians. The Fridgans wanted to take over Agria, a planet perfect for crops and livestock. Fridga was completely covered in snow and ice, and the cost of shipping food was too expensive. At this point, all Trunks knew about war was that his papa would get hired to fight, win, and get a lot of money. The idea that Vegeta could actually lose a fight had never entered the young boy's mind.
"You're right, Trunks. It is cold here," Vegeta agreed in the Saiyan language as they crunched through the snow.
They had landed in front of the palace of Fridga's ruler, King Nonignis. Servants quickly appeared, rolling out a red carpet that was brilliant against the white. King Nonignis strode down it towards Vegeta and his son, looking relieved.
"Greetings, Prince Vegeta," he said cheerfully.
"Greetings, your Highness," Vegeta replied.
He bowed, and Trunks imitated his father clumsily. The king chuckled.
"What is your name, youngest prince?" he asked.
The boy blushed and gripped his father's boot for comfort.
"Trunks," he whispered.
"We must get the little one inside and get down to business," declared Nonignis. "After all, the battle starts in half a moon's time."
Trunks mumbled something in Saiyan.
"Hmmm?" asked Nonignis.
"He wants to fight too," explained Vegeta as they started towards the palace.
"Ah. Are you going to be a mercenary like your father?" asked Nonignis.
"Yes. Like Papa," said Trunks firmly.
Trunks and Vegeta were soon settled in their luxurious guest house. Fireplaces were lit in every room, and all the furniture was covered in soft, thick fur pelts.
"Hungry," whined Trunks.
"I'll call the servants," Vegeta said, removing the boy's wet clothes.
Ever since ancient Curae had passed away, the two had only tried one other servant. Now they only had servants when they stopped at planets. Vegeta was, however, planning to hire help soon. His fighting talents were making him rich as a mercenary. After the battle on Ayuda had become known, planets under siege were willing to pay the Saiyan Prince any amount he required for his services.
"Call now," begged Trunks. "I'm cold and hungry," he added.
"You shouldn't have played in the snow, and besides," reasoned Vegeta, "the fires give off plenty of heat."
Vegeta dressed his son in the traditional body suit, of a saiyan. A servant soon came in with a cart full of food. Trunks squealed in delight and plunged into the food.
"Trunks, remember to eat with good table manners during dinner tonight because–"
"I should make a good impression since I'm a prince," recited Trunks, rolling his eyes. "You eat messy, Papa."
Vegeta raised an eyebrow.
"You'd better be polite or I'll hire Mala again," Vegeta threatened, referring to a nanny who had spanked his son only a few days before.
Trunks rubbed his stinging backside warily and winced as he remembered too late that it still smarted when bothered. His punishment for spilling juice had involved two things: his posterior and a switch. Vegeta had "disposed" of Mala as soon as Trunks had tearfully informed him why he couldn't sit down.
Late that night, Trunks lay in his warm bed, snuggled in the fluffy fur blanket. Soon a battle would be held between the Fridgans and the Agrians. The Fridgans wanted to take over Agria, a planet perfect for crops and livestock. Fridga was completely covered in snow and ice, and the cost of shipping food was too expensive. At this point, all Trunks knew about war was that his papa would get hired to fight, win, and get a lot of money. The idea that Vegeta could actually lose a fight had never entered the young boy's mind.