Last time:
"I take it that means he can't know I train," Bulma sneered bitterly. It was her only solace in life, aside from Eizo who couldn't always be there when she needed comfort.
"To say the least," Akuma laughed softly, giving a flick of her wrist that meant the meeting was over. But it meant so much more to Bulma. By the end of the week she would be free of her pseudo mother's painful hold. And no matter who the suitor was, she would be the most prim, proper, and ladylike princess the world had known. She would be free, even if it killed her.
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"And what makes you so sure I was a royal?" Bulma asked, her cheek resting on her palm. She was beyond uncomfortable, but had long since given up on trying to find a comfortable position. In her clothes, she would never be comfortable.
"There is no possible way you were not," Eizo said firmly, as his eyes scanned the giant leather-bound ledger before him. They'd been in his family's record room, an offshoot of the library, for over two hours and had turned up no information on royal families with daughters named Bulma or any name close. "Queen Akuma would never allow anyone but a royal into her family."
"But it's a cover-up. I'm supposed to be Nyoko, remember? It didn't matter who I was."
"Yes, but there was always the possibility that someone outside the family could find out about the scandal. If that happened she would want you to have royal blood so the blow wouldn't be so hard."
"I guess that makes sense," she sighed, leaning forward to get a better look at the ledger he'd been pouring over for the last half an hour. "Wait." She grabbed Eizo's wrist before he could turn the page and pulled the book towards her. "The Cold Empire?" she whispered, her brow wrinkled with thought. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"
"Yon Han and Cold are strong allies," Eizo informed her.
"Yes, but I never knew that. I know nothing of the politics of this empire or any other. I'm not permitted to it as a mere princess. I've heard no one in this kingdom speak that name before." She paused a moment, her arms falling from the table into her lap. "I think it's from my past..." Suddenly she looked up, startling Eizo with her pleading eyes. "What can you tell me about The Cold Empire?"
"I only know that your family is their greatest ally, and that they're hated by all other empires."
"Who were their biggest enemies?" Bulma asked eagerly, clasping Eizo's hands. She was on to something, he could tell by the look in her eyes.
"I told you," Eizo sighed gently, "they were enemies of everyone save your family."
"Then who was their ultimate enemy? Who were they always at war with?"
"Nyoko, why does this matter?"
Bulma frowned deeply and sat back. "Please, don't use that name."
"Forgive me." He reached over and grabbed her hand, giving the back of it a light kiss. "It will take some getting used to."
"It matters because I don't think I came from an allied family."
Eizo arched an eyebrow, sitting back in his armchair. "Ny-Bulma, what are you saying? You believe that your family captured you from another empire? One they were at war with?"
"Why couldn't that have happened?" Bulma demanded angrily. "The Yon Han Empire is the most corrupt empire in history! The only reason your family converses with mine is because they're cousins in some way. Blood aside, your family would be at war with mine and you know it!"
"Then there's only one empire you could be from...but what will that change, Bulma? What can you really do with this information? Your family is long gone..."
Bulma ran her fingers along the crisp, yellowing pages of the ledger, wrinkled at the edges from time and wear. Did she want to know? A week before she would have said yes, absolutely, she wanted nothing more. But now, after so much had happened, so many lives changed forever, she could not remember why knowing had been so important. Yes, to know who she was, who her family were and what they'd been like. But they were gone, as Eizo had said, and there was no going back. She could never have that life again, never be that person again, whoever she was. She was now, and would forever be, Nyoko Sasaki, Princess of the Yon Han Empire, soon to be Queen of another.
"I suppose you could be right," she said after much consideration. "Maybe knowing will do nothing."
Eizo smiled meekly at her, and pulled her into a soft, warm embrace. He gave her a firm kiss on the forehead, and whispered, "No matter who you were, you will always be the best thing that has ever happened to me." He turned her head gently towards him, capturing her lips and sending cold shivers down her spine. How long had they gone without passion in the beginning? They were the best of friends, but also the greatest of lovers, never to be married for no other reason than their parents would never permit it. Tadao was marrying Juri, Eizo's younger sister, when they were of age. All the formal papers had been signed and all arrangements for the wedding planned. Not that she loved Eizo in that way, far from it, but the idea of not having him forever was unbearable. She had no idea he felt the same.
"Eizo," she whispered, pulling away roughly. "We can't go on this way. I...A suitor is coming in three days. The only suitor I will ever have...Eizo, he's the man I'm destined to marry."
Eizo released her immediately, as if she carried a deadly plague, and sat back, his hand cupped over his chin. Married? He'd never considered their not being together before, not really. Somehow, he'd always assumed they would never be separated, never be courted or have to court, their lives lived out in the bliss of mindless childhood. But Bulma was a woman now, sixteen years old; old enough to be a mother in the eyes of the law. Her husband would be furious when he found she was no virgin. Eizo, on the other hand, had four to six years before he even had to consider taking a wife and carrying on in his aging father's place.
"Please, don't be cold to me. We have three days before he arrives in all his pomp and ceremony. The wedding won't be until a week later."
"And then I shall never see you again," Eizo sighed, unable to look her in the eye. She was a taken woman know, and there was nothing he could do to change that.
"Never?" she laughed softly, placing a delicate hand on his. "Eizo, my love, no man could keep me from seeing you. If I know the queen, this man will have strong connections with my family, which can only mean that he has strong connections with yours. You shall see come the eve of his arrival. You will be there, won't you?" Her eyes held the most complete sadness that he could have never said no.
"Of course, my dear. I want to know who is taking you from me," he said with mock jealousy. True, he was going to miss their dysfunctional relationship, their long passionate moments in his fire-lighted library, or their quick heated-filled flings in servants' quarters or well-hidden courtyards. But she was not, and never could be, his true love. The love of his life. The woman he was meant to marry, have children with, and grow old and bitter with. He had never seen her in that light. She was his lover and best friend, but that was the extent of it. He prayed to Kami that she would find happiness with her husband. "Shall we dine now?" he asked as he stood, extending his hand to her. She took without a second thought, smiling sweetly at him. He never failed to bring her out of sour moods.
"You make the world worth it all," she said, snaking her arm through his as they made their way to the evening feast, both dreading the week to come.
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Three o'clock Friday morning, fifteen hours before Bulma's suitor was to arrive; fifteen hours until the end of her life. Feverishly she kicked and punched at the bag of sand that hung from the ceiling of Tadao's training room. Three hours before she'd been in her own training room, made after much arguing with the queen just two years ago. But, in a rage of energy, she'd ripped open the bag and poured gallons of sand on the floor. Without another thought, she wiped her forehead, left the room, and snuck into Tadao's training room in the opposite wing. She planned on staying there until someone found her and forced her to leave.
It was seven in the morning before Aneko finally found her, beaten and bruised on the matted floor, her breathing labored, yet shallow. For a split second her maid feared the worst, but upon closer inspection saw the truth of the situation. Her trainer was nowhere in sight.
"Where is Aritomo?" Aneko asked angrily as she lifted Bulma off the floor.
"I never called him in," she laughed hoarsely, giving way to a fit of painful coughing.
"You're a danger to yourself, child," she sighed. "What will your mother think when she sees that great bruise on your cheek? How did you acquire that all by yourself?"
"I have talent." Bulma rolled her eyes, half attempted to get free, then allowed Aneko to drag her to her quarters to be dressed properly for the day to come. "Aneko," she said in a low voice as she was lowered into a tub of steaming water. "Bring Eizo to me. I cannot endure this without him..."
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Eizo stood quietly in the back of the room, arms crossed behind his back, watching the semi-celebration unfold in all its colorful magnificence. Hours before, he'd witnessed something few royals get to see in all their lives; the dressing of a lady, from beginning to end. He didn't know how they could stand sitting still for so long, having to be caked with layers of make-up and hugged with pounds of fabrics-he respected Bulma for it immensely.
Shortly she would be arriving to take her place on her throne, where she is to sit and await her suitor. Her brother Tadao was already there, and in quite the argument with his parents. And though Eizo couldn't hear their words, he knew what they must be saying. It was about Bulma, and he looked furious. He doubted Tadao had spoken to her since he found out, though he couldn't be sure, for she would never admit to something so harsh. Her entire life was about perception, and this situation was no different.
"My prince," came a light voice in his ear. He'd been so distracted by the arguing royals that he hadn't noticed Bulma's arrival. He swore she looked more magnificent now than ever before. It saddened him slightly to know that it was all for another. "How are you fairing this evening? You look listless." She held in her small, white hand a fashionable cup of wine.
"I'm fairing well, Princess," he answered with the same properness. He loved when they acted this way, making a mockery of the whole royal structure. "You look well this evening and for such grand occasion."
She giggled softly, the way all young girls are taught to laugh, holding their hand gently over their mouth, their hand downcast while their eyes look almost graciously at the person who made them laugh.
"You flatter my daughter well, sir," came Queen Akuma's almost rough voice. She slung her arm loosely around Eizo's shoulder, extending her face subtly in his direction. He took the hint and gave her a light kiss on the kiss, complimenting her on her attire and loveliness. He despised her as much as Bulma did, though he was an expert at keeping his feelings well hidden. If not, he'd have Bulma in hysterics over his sadness; why did it have to end?
"She has much to be flattered about, milady," he said in that soft gentlemanly tone. "As does her mother." The queen giggled in the same practiced fashion, bowed faintly at the waist, and made her leave.
"I don't know why she insists on doing that," Bulma groaned, watching her retreat back to her throne. "All she has to do is wave me over. I know I'm supposed to be up there with them."
"But you're down here with me," he observed, glancing at the king. He raised his glass and gave a slight nod. "I think you should obey them this last night. We both know you are in the hands of your husband the moment he steps foot in this hall."
Bulma gave a heavy sigh and nodded. He was right. One night wouldn't hurt her.
"I only regret that we cannot have our love anymore," she said quickly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She was gone, and halfway to the thrones, before he had a chance to react. His head swam sensuously for a moment and a small smile graced his lips. Aneko had left them alone for some time before Bulma was dressed. She was the only soul who knew about their love affair, and though she disapproved of it, knew there was nothing she could do and opted to help them lest they get caught sometime down the road.
"Will you miss your lover?" Akuma sneered as Bulma took her seat.
"Lover?" she laughed lightly, her eyes betraying nothing. She was an expert. "Now why would you want to upset me on our last night together? You wound me mother."
"I've been dreaming of this day since the moment I laid eyes on you. Trust me, I would do nothing to spoil it."
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The moment he entered the room Bulma was struck with a crushing sense of familiarity. From where or when she thought she knew this man she did not know, only that there was something so familiar about him it made her almost want to cry. Luckily, however, she was skilled in the art of disguise in every way imaginable. Even when in a heated moment with Eizo, she was able to keep her persona, and her wig for that matter, well intact. She was never suspicious, her greatest asset.
His name, she'd been informed that morning, was Yukio Ouji, the only son of King Frieza of the Cold Empire. She cringed inwardly at the thought; how much closer was she going to get to her past without actually knowing a thing? Aside from being familiar, he was an extremely good-looking man, with high cheekbones, piercing black eyes, and well-trimmed jet-black hair (GT hair). He wore usual royal attire, complete with a deep blue velvet cape and simple single-jeweled gold crown. If she only had to look at him for the rest of her life she would not be so against the idea of marriage. But to get away from Akuma, away from this kingdom-it was too good an opportunity to overlook.
As was proper, Yukio approached first the queen, giving her a gentle kiss on the back of the hand; then the king, a deep bow at the waist; then the prince, a simple handshake; and finally, with a wide somewhat sloppy grin, the princess, his prize, and another kiss on the hand. He retired to a specially crafted throne beside Bulma, but generally paid her no mind as he conversed with the king and queen. Tadao he talked with excessively as well, mostly on war and politics, a subject that intrigued Bulma to no end. She listened intently without looking like she was paying attention at all, soaking up every word.
Finally, after a long drawn-out feast, the royal minstrels quickened their somber notes to play dancing music. When Prince Yukio did not offer her a hand, she looked to Eizo down the long table, giving him a welcoming nod. He accepted her invitation anxiously; both were itching to be near one another. The night seemed so long.
"This evening is dreadful," Bulma said once they were on the dance floor and out of earshot. "Thank Kami we have this week to be together before the wedding."
"I heard no wedding announcement," Eizo said, glancing quickly at the sovereigns who still presided over the dining table.
"Trust me," she sighed, "this is nothing more than an arranged marriage parading around as a courtship."
"And so you have no say in the matter?"
"When do women ever get a say?" she laughed. "It's all illusion, my love. You will learn that soon enough when you become king."
"May I cut in?" came a rough voice, breath touching her ear. It was Yukio, of course.
"Certainly, your majesty," Eizo said, giving him a deep bow as he backed away and off the dance floor. Bulma missed him instantly. But as Yukio's rough hands made contact with her, she suddenly could only think of him and what lay ahead.
"Your silence troubles me, my lord," she said when they'd been dancing for quite some time. "Is there something about me that is not pleasing?" Inwardly she wanted to gag, to not have to say such vile words, but she was the property and therefore required to do any and all things to please her husband.
"Nothing about women is displeasing," he said rather roughly, unable to meet her gaze. "Save those with untamed mouths."
"Sir," she said, trying her best to keep her voice calm and unaffected, "I should hope you are not referring to my inquires. I have only your happiness in mind. Forgive me if I have crossed some boundary." Kill me now, she thought, her hand subconsciously gripping his harder.
"Your words are so sweet," he commented, "yet there is nothing sweet about you. Your appearance maybe, but your soul is far from it."
"Sir, I ask you kindly to refrain."
He smirked down at her, being several inches taller, and leaned in as if he meant to kiss her cheek. "Let me see your fire," he whispered huskily in her ear. She was immediately repulsed and wrenched her head back.
"Sir," she seethed, unable to hide her feelings any longer. What did it matter how she acted around him? He obviously knew how she was. "This is the last time I am going to ask you to not be so vulgar in my presence."
"You are already mine, princess. I thought it best you see who I am from the beginning."
"You are a foul man," Bulma hissed viciously, turning roughly away from him. If he had been expecting it he would have been able to grab her arm and force her to stay, but, thinking that she was trained to be obedient for the evening at least, he was completely unprepared and was left dumbfounded on the dance floor.
"Are you mad child?" King Hiroshi asked, evidence of mild anger in his voice, as she approached the table. Sure she acted up with him and her mother, but to her suitor? It was completely uncalled for. "How dare you insult Prince Yukio in such a way. He is to be honored and respected."
"And he shall receive his respect," she hissed, "when I receive mine!"
Moments later Yukio approached the table, a smirk etched beautiful in his features. He didn't give Bulma a glance, going straight to the king.
"When is the soonest we can be wed?" he asked, his smirk seeming to deepen.
"I-I-" the king stuttered, turning to his wife. "You have made your decision so soon?"
"Of course, my lord. Your daughter is the loveliest I have encountered. I cannot live without her as my bride."
"Can you wait one week?" Akuma asked, drawing his attention.
"If I must," he answered politely.
"Have I no say in the matter, suitor?" Bulma snapped, turning sharply towards him.
"You make my heart ache," he laughed, looking her directly in the eye. "When have you ever had a say?"
"I am no man's property!" she snapped, having to force the bile in her throat from rising at the thought of spending the rest of her life with such a barbarian. "Speak to me again tonight and I shall do all in my power to make our marriage a miserable scandal at best!" She was out of the room without another word.
Immediately Eizo caught up to her in the hall, trying desperate to comfort her as she sped towards her training room. But, no matter what words he used, or kisses on her cheeks and lips, she could no be comforted, not even by him. Nothing could change the fact that she would be married within the week, that she was now and forever the property of Yukio Ouji, sold like a common piece of cattle. She despised the world and all the people in it.
"Please," she all but whimpered upon reaching the door to her chambers; she'd completely bypassed her training room in her anger and sadness. "I wish to see no one. I will call for you when I am able."
"But Bul-"
"Please, do not make this harder for me. I love you, my prince. Goodnight."
"G-Goodnight," he whispered solemnly as the door closed before him. If only there were something he could do. But he knew there was nothing and so, with a heavy sigh, he retreated back to the banquet hall to take his leave of the king and queen so he could go home and wallow in his own sorrow. When had their lives become so complicated?
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---Chapter 4! Wow! I really liked that one! So much going on! Bulma and Eizo? Ahh! Its too much for my little brain! Heehee :P
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (ReviewsMore Chapters)
Next time: The wedding, eeep!!
Note: As was mentioned in the chapter, Bulma and Eizo are not in love. They are, however, best friends and do love each other in that way. Also, I didn't change Vegeta's last name because Bulma never knew it in the past.
Special thanks to: bulma blu eyes for being my Beta! :D
"I take it that means he can't know I train," Bulma sneered bitterly. It was her only solace in life, aside from Eizo who couldn't always be there when she needed comfort.
"To say the least," Akuma laughed softly, giving a flick of her wrist that meant the meeting was over. But it meant so much more to Bulma. By the end of the week she would be free of her pseudo mother's painful hold. And no matter who the suitor was, she would be the most prim, proper, and ladylike princess the world had known. She would be free, even if it killed her.
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"And what makes you so sure I was a royal?" Bulma asked, her cheek resting on her palm. She was beyond uncomfortable, but had long since given up on trying to find a comfortable position. In her clothes, she would never be comfortable.
"There is no possible way you were not," Eizo said firmly, as his eyes scanned the giant leather-bound ledger before him. They'd been in his family's record room, an offshoot of the library, for over two hours and had turned up no information on royal families with daughters named Bulma or any name close. "Queen Akuma would never allow anyone but a royal into her family."
"But it's a cover-up. I'm supposed to be Nyoko, remember? It didn't matter who I was."
"Yes, but there was always the possibility that someone outside the family could find out about the scandal. If that happened she would want you to have royal blood so the blow wouldn't be so hard."
"I guess that makes sense," she sighed, leaning forward to get a better look at the ledger he'd been pouring over for the last half an hour. "Wait." She grabbed Eizo's wrist before he could turn the page and pulled the book towards her. "The Cold Empire?" she whispered, her brow wrinkled with thought. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"
"Yon Han and Cold are strong allies," Eizo informed her.
"Yes, but I never knew that. I know nothing of the politics of this empire or any other. I'm not permitted to it as a mere princess. I've heard no one in this kingdom speak that name before." She paused a moment, her arms falling from the table into her lap. "I think it's from my past..." Suddenly she looked up, startling Eizo with her pleading eyes. "What can you tell me about The Cold Empire?"
"I only know that your family is their greatest ally, and that they're hated by all other empires."
"Who were their biggest enemies?" Bulma asked eagerly, clasping Eizo's hands. She was on to something, he could tell by the look in her eyes.
"I told you," Eizo sighed gently, "they were enemies of everyone save your family."
"Then who was their ultimate enemy? Who were they always at war with?"
"Nyoko, why does this matter?"
Bulma frowned deeply and sat back. "Please, don't use that name."
"Forgive me." He reached over and grabbed her hand, giving the back of it a light kiss. "It will take some getting used to."
"It matters because I don't think I came from an allied family."
Eizo arched an eyebrow, sitting back in his armchair. "Ny-Bulma, what are you saying? You believe that your family captured you from another empire? One they were at war with?"
"Why couldn't that have happened?" Bulma demanded angrily. "The Yon Han Empire is the most corrupt empire in history! The only reason your family converses with mine is because they're cousins in some way. Blood aside, your family would be at war with mine and you know it!"
"Then there's only one empire you could be from...but what will that change, Bulma? What can you really do with this information? Your family is long gone..."
Bulma ran her fingers along the crisp, yellowing pages of the ledger, wrinkled at the edges from time and wear. Did she want to know? A week before she would have said yes, absolutely, she wanted nothing more. But now, after so much had happened, so many lives changed forever, she could not remember why knowing had been so important. Yes, to know who she was, who her family were and what they'd been like. But they were gone, as Eizo had said, and there was no going back. She could never have that life again, never be that person again, whoever she was. She was now, and would forever be, Nyoko Sasaki, Princess of the Yon Han Empire, soon to be Queen of another.
"I suppose you could be right," she said after much consideration. "Maybe knowing will do nothing."
Eizo smiled meekly at her, and pulled her into a soft, warm embrace. He gave her a firm kiss on the forehead, and whispered, "No matter who you were, you will always be the best thing that has ever happened to me." He turned her head gently towards him, capturing her lips and sending cold shivers down her spine. How long had they gone without passion in the beginning? They were the best of friends, but also the greatest of lovers, never to be married for no other reason than their parents would never permit it. Tadao was marrying Juri, Eizo's younger sister, when they were of age. All the formal papers had been signed and all arrangements for the wedding planned. Not that she loved Eizo in that way, far from it, but the idea of not having him forever was unbearable. She had no idea he felt the same.
"Eizo," she whispered, pulling away roughly. "We can't go on this way. I...A suitor is coming in three days. The only suitor I will ever have...Eizo, he's the man I'm destined to marry."
Eizo released her immediately, as if she carried a deadly plague, and sat back, his hand cupped over his chin. Married? He'd never considered their not being together before, not really. Somehow, he'd always assumed they would never be separated, never be courted or have to court, their lives lived out in the bliss of mindless childhood. But Bulma was a woman now, sixteen years old; old enough to be a mother in the eyes of the law. Her husband would be furious when he found she was no virgin. Eizo, on the other hand, had four to six years before he even had to consider taking a wife and carrying on in his aging father's place.
"Please, don't be cold to me. We have three days before he arrives in all his pomp and ceremony. The wedding won't be until a week later."
"And then I shall never see you again," Eizo sighed, unable to look her in the eye. She was a taken woman know, and there was nothing he could do to change that.
"Never?" she laughed softly, placing a delicate hand on his. "Eizo, my love, no man could keep me from seeing you. If I know the queen, this man will have strong connections with my family, which can only mean that he has strong connections with yours. You shall see come the eve of his arrival. You will be there, won't you?" Her eyes held the most complete sadness that he could have never said no.
"Of course, my dear. I want to know who is taking you from me," he said with mock jealousy. True, he was going to miss their dysfunctional relationship, their long passionate moments in his fire-lighted library, or their quick heated-filled flings in servants' quarters or well-hidden courtyards. But she was not, and never could be, his true love. The love of his life. The woman he was meant to marry, have children with, and grow old and bitter with. He had never seen her in that light. She was his lover and best friend, but that was the extent of it. He prayed to Kami that she would find happiness with her husband. "Shall we dine now?" he asked as he stood, extending his hand to her. She took without a second thought, smiling sweetly at him. He never failed to bring her out of sour moods.
"You make the world worth it all," she said, snaking her arm through his as they made their way to the evening feast, both dreading the week to come.
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Three o'clock Friday morning, fifteen hours before Bulma's suitor was to arrive; fifteen hours until the end of her life. Feverishly she kicked and punched at the bag of sand that hung from the ceiling of Tadao's training room. Three hours before she'd been in her own training room, made after much arguing with the queen just two years ago. But, in a rage of energy, she'd ripped open the bag and poured gallons of sand on the floor. Without another thought, she wiped her forehead, left the room, and snuck into Tadao's training room in the opposite wing. She planned on staying there until someone found her and forced her to leave.
It was seven in the morning before Aneko finally found her, beaten and bruised on the matted floor, her breathing labored, yet shallow. For a split second her maid feared the worst, but upon closer inspection saw the truth of the situation. Her trainer was nowhere in sight.
"Where is Aritomo?" Aneko asked angrily as she lifted Bulma off the floor.
"I never called him in," she laughed hoarsely, giving way to a fit of painful coughing.
"You're a danger to yourself, child," she sighed. "What will your mother think when she sees that great bruise on your cheek? How did you acquire that all by yourself?"
"I have talent." Bulma rolled her eyes, half attempted to get free, then allowed Aneko to drag her to her quarters to be dressed properly for the day to come. "Aneko," she said in a low voice as she was lowered into a tub of steaming water. "Bring Eizo to me. I cannot endure this without him..."
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Eizo stood quietly in the back of the room, arms crossed behind his back, watching the semi-celebration unfold in all its colorful magnificence. Hours before, he'd witnessed something few royals get to see in all their lives; the dressing of a lady, from beginning to end. He didn't know how they could stand sitting still for so long, having to be caked with layers of make-up and hugged with pounds of fabrics-he respected Bulma for it immensely.
Shortly she would be arriving to take her place on her throne, where she is to sit and await her suitor. Her brother Tadao was already there, and in quite the argument with his parents. And though Eizo couldn't hear their words, he knew what they must be saying. It was about Bulma, and he looked furious. He doubted Tadao had spoken to her since he found out, though he couldn't be sure, for she would never admit to something so harsh. Her entire life was about perception, and this situation was no different.
"My prince," came a light voice in his ear. He'd been so distracted by the arguing royals that he hadn't noticed Bulma's arrival. He swore she looked more magnificent now than ever before. It saddened him slightly to know that it was all for another. "How are you fairing this evening? You look listless." She held in her small, white hand a fashionable cup of wine.
"I'm fairing well, Princess," he answered with the same properness. He loved when they acted this way, making a mockery of the whole royal structure. "You look well this evening and for such grand occasion."
She giggled softly, the way all young girls are taught to laugh, holding their hand gently over their mouth, their hand downcast while their eyes look almost graciously at the person who made them laugh.
"You flatter my daughter well, sir," came Queen Akuma's almost rough voice. She slung her arm loosely around Eizo's shoulder, extending her face subtly in his direction. He took the hint and gave her a light kiss on the kiss, complimenting her on her attire and loveliness. He despised her as much as Bulma did, though he was an expert at keeping his feelings well hidden. If not, he'd have Bulma in hysterics over his sadness; why did it have to end?
"She has much to be flattered about, milady," he said in that soft gentlemanly tone. "As does her mother." The queen giggled in the same practiced fashion, bowed faintly at the waist, and made her leave.
"I don't know why she insists on doing that," Bulma groaned, watching her retreat back to her throne. "All she has to do is wave me over. I know I'm supposed to be up there with them."
"But you're down here with me," he observed, glancing at the king. He raised his glass and gave a slight nod. "I think you should obey them this last night. We both know you are in the hands of your husband the moment he steps foot in this hall."
Bulma gave a heavy sigh and nodded. He was right. One night wouldn't hurt her.
"I only regret that we cannot have our love anymore," she said quickly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She was gone, and halfway to the thrones, before he had a chance to react. His head swam sensuously for a moment and a small smile graced his lips. Aneko had left them alone for some time before Bulma was dressed. She was the only soul who knew about their love affair, and though she disapproved of it, knew there was nothing she could do and opted to help them lest they get caught sometime down the road.
"Will you miss your lover?" Akuma sneered as Bulma took her seat.
"Lover?" she laughed lightly, her eyes betraying nothing. She was an expert. "Now why would you want to upset me on our last night together? You wound me mother."
"I've been dreaming of this day since the moment I laid eyes on you. Trust me, I would do nothing to spoil it."
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The moment he entered the room Bulma was struck with a crushing sense of familiarity. From where or when she thought she knew this man she did not know, only that there was something so familiar about him it made her almost want to cry. Luckily, however, she was skilled in the art of disguise in every way imaginable. Even when in a heated moment with Eizo, she was able to keep her persona, and her wig for that matter, well intact. She was never suspicious, her greatest asset.
His name, she'd been informed that morning, was Yukio Ouji, the only son of King Frieza of the Cold Empire. She cringed inwardly at the thought; how much closer was she going to get to her past without actually knowing a thing? Aside from being familiar, he was an extremely good-looking man, with high cheekbones, piercing black eyes, and well-trimmed jet-black hair (GT hair). He wore usual royal attire, complete with a deep blue velvet cape and simple single-jeweled gold crown. If she only had to look at him for the rest of her life she would not be so against the idea of marriage. But to get away from Akuma, away from this kingdom-it was too good an opportunity to overlook.
As was proper, Yukio approached first the queen, giving her a gentle kiss on the back of the hand; then the king, a deep bow at the waist; then the prince, a simple handshake; and finally, with a wide somewhat sloppy grin, the princess, his prize, and another kiss on the hand. He retired to a specially crafted throne beside Bulma, but generally paid her no mind as he conversed with the king and queen. Tadao he talked with excessively as well, mostly on war and politics, a subject that intrigued Bulma to no end. She listened intently without looking like she was paying attention at all, soaking up every word.
Finally, after a long drawn-out feast, the royal minstrels quickened their somber notes to play dancing music. When Prince Yukio did not offer her a hand, she looked to Eizo down the long table, giving him a welcoming nod. He accepted her invitation anxiously; both were itching to be near one another. The night seemed so long.
"This evening is dreadful," Bulma said once they were on the dance floor and out of earshot. "Thank Kami we have this week to be together before the wedding."
"I heard no wedding announcement," Eizo said, glancing quickly at the sovereigns who still presided over the dining table.
"Trust me," she sighed, "this is nothing more than an arranged marriage parading around as a courtship."
"And so you have no say in the matter?"
"When do women ever get a say?" she laughed. "It's all illusion, my love. You will learn that soon enough when you become king."
"May I cut in?" came a rough voice, breath touching her ear. It was Yukio, of course.
"Certainly, your majesty," Eizo said, giving him a deep bow as he backed away and off the dance floor. Bulma missed him instantly. But as Yukio's rough hands made contact with her, she suddenly could only think of him and what lay ahead.
"Your silence troubles me, my lord," she said when they'd been dancing for quite some time. "Is there something about me that is not pleasing?" Inwardly she wanted to gag, to not have to say such vile words, but she was the property and therefore required to do any and all things to please her husband.
"Nothing about women is displeasing," he said rather roughly, unable to meet her gaze. "Save those with untamed mouths."
"Sir," she said, trying her best to keep her voice calm and unaffected, "I should hope you are not referring to my inquires. I have only your happiness in mind. Forgive me if I have crossed some boundary." Kill me now, she thought, her hand subconsciously gripping his harder.
"Your words are so sweet," he commented, "yet there is nothing sweet about you. Your appearance maybe, but your soul is far from it."
"Sir, I ask you kindly to refrain."
He smirked down at her, being several inches taller, and leaned in as if he meant to kiss her cheek. "Let me see your fire," he whispered huskily in her ear. She was immediately repulsed and wrenched her head back.
"Sir," she seethed, unable to hide her feelings any longer. What did it matter how she acted around him? He obviously knew how she was. "This is the last time I am going to ask you to not be so vulgar in my presence."
"You are already mine, princess. I thought it best you see who I am from the beginning."
"You are a foul man," Bulma hissed viciously, turning roughly away from him. If he had been expecting it he would have been able to grab her arm and force her to stay, but, thinking that she was trained to be obedient for the evening at least, he was completely unprepared and was left dumbfounded on the dance floor.
"Are you mad child?" King Hiroshi asked, evidence of mild anger in his voice, as she approached the table. Sure she acted up with him and her mother, but to her suitor? It was completely uncalled for. "How dare you insult Prince Yukio in such a way. He is to be honored and respected."
"And he shall receive his respect," she hissed, "when I receive mine!"
Moments later Yukio approached the table, a smirk etched beautiful in his features. He didn't give Bulma a glance, going straight to the king.
"When is the soonest we can be wed?" he asked, his smirk seeming to deepen.
"I-I-" the king stuttered, turning to his wife. "You have made your decision so soon?"
"Of course, my lord. Your daughter is the loveliest I have encountered. I cannot live without her as my bride."
"Can you wait one week?" Akuma asked, drawing his attention.
"If I must," he answered politely.
"Have I no say in the matter, suitor?" Bulma snapped, turning sharply towards him.
"You make my heart ache," he laughed, looking her directly in the eye. "When have you ever had a say?"
"I am no man's property!" she snapped, having to force the bile in her throat from rising at the thought of spending the rest of her life with such a barbarian. "Speak to me again tonight and I shall do all in my power to make our marriage a miserable scandal at best!" She was out of the room without another word.
Immediately Eizo caught up to her in the hall, trying desperate to comfort her as she sped towards her training room. But, no matter what words he used, or kisses on her cheeks and lips, she could no be comforted, not even by him. Nothing could change the fact that she would be married within the week, that she was now and forever the property of Yukio Ouji, sold like a common piece of cattle. She despised the world and all the people in it.
"Please," she all but whimpered upon reaching the door to her chambers; she'd completely bypassed her training room in her anger and sadness. "I wish to see no one. I will call for you when I am able."
"But Bul-"
"Please, do not make this harder for me. I love you, my prince. Goodnight."
"G-Goodnight," he whispered solemnly as the door closed before him. If only there were something he could do. But he knew there was nothing and so, with a heavy sigh, he retreated back to the banquet hall to take his leave of the king and queen so he could go home and wallow in his own sorrow. When had their lives become so complicated?
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---Chapter 4! Wow! I really liked that one! So much going on! Bulma and Eizo? Ahh! Its too much for my little brain! Heehee :P
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (ReviewsMore Chapters)
Next time: The wedding, eeep!!
Note: As was mentioned in the chapter, Bulma and Eizo are not in love. They are, however, best friends and do love each other in that way. Also, I didn't change Vegeta's last name because Bulma never knew it in the past.
Special thanks to: bulma blu eyes for being my Beta! :D