"I will find his body with or without your assistance, Eizo!" she snapped. "Take me to him now."
Eizo nodded sadly and took Bulma's hand. There was no doubt in his mind that she would never forget the sight. He never would…
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Bulma's first night in the new palace was difficult to say the least. Luckily, King Frieza was away on business and so she had some time to recover from her grief before having to perform for her father-in-law. Vegeta, being her trusted caretaker, ordered his servants to be at the ready 'round the clock incase his wife should need the slightest thing. Bulma never made a peep, and within two days was somewhat thinner and gruesomely pale.
"Woman, your grief is so unbecoming," Vegeta said, leaning against her doorframe. There was no way she could keep him from the room they shared, and so she stayed curled on their bed, which, as of now, they had not shared. He was being patient with her, though he reminded her several times a day that they must consummate their marriage. And then there was of course getting into routine, and making their first public appearance as man and wife. "Your eyes are red and swollen, your face is long and pale, and I swear I can see your bones under your skin. I don't think you would want me to force food down your throat."
Bulma grimaced at the thought of food, forcing her eyes away from her husband.
"In two hours your new maid will bring you a tray of food and drink. If in three hours that tray is not wiped clean, by you, I will take this matter into my hands," he said angrily, reaching for the door handle. "I will not have my queen starve herself over something as inevitable as death."
A soft clock told Bulma that he was gone. She burst into a fit of tears, exhausting herself. The last thing she remembered as she drifted off was a strand of blue hair in her eyes.
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By the end of the week, Bulma was plump looking, as a queen should be, her face soft and lovely. She was now eating regularly, with her husband, as was fit. They talked little, and when they did, Bulma ignored any and all insults, refusing to fight with this man who had taken her from her home.
"What are your parents to do?" Vegeta asked, leaning his elbow on the linen covered table. A piece of mutton dangled from his fingertips. Bulma thought it barbaric the way men ate.
"Regarding what, my lord?" she replied politely. She sipped her wine lightly, letting the cold red liquid coat her tongue before she swallowed. Wine was something she would never tire of.
"Your perilous brother, of course."
Bulma stiffened noticeably, setting her goblet down. It was the first time Tadao had been mentioned as the source of her grief. For a week it had been grief this, and death that.
"As tradition goes," she said stiffly, her lips tight, "they will have another son to carry on the family bloodline. If they cannot, my father shall choose a prince to rule in his stead. Surely you know this, lord."
Vegeta smiled wickedly, then nodded. Of course he knew the policy of tradition. He was going to have to find another way to get a rise out of her. Surely she was sensing something about him that troubled her, made her think that she knew him. If only he could spark her memory without actually having to reveal his secret. He wondered if she knew that he knew hers.
"That hair looks so dreadful on you," he commented. "It doesn't match your eyes at all."
"Forgive my genes, sir."
Vegeta frowned. Very well, today was not his day.
"But I'm sure you have had many comments on yours eyes in the past."
"You are correct, sir." She had stopped eating all together. It was more than obvious that this conversation was unnerving to her. He decided, for his kingdom's sake, and the sake of his own sanity, that he shouldn't push her anymore tonight.
"Well, my wife," he said, standing. He wiped his hands quickly on a napkin and tossed it aside. A servant came rushing to retrieve it; Bulma frowned. It was very clear that men ruled this palace. Her "mother" never would have stood for such. "I'm retiring to train for the evening." He kissed her cheek lightly, lingering a little to long for her comfort, as he breathed deep her sweet smell. "You should expect me in our chambers at midnight. Do try to be lively this time."
He was gone before she could protest.
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The messenger had only taken an hour and a half to deliver the note and return to the palace, Eizo following on his heels. He embraced Bulma quickly at the back entrance, where she'd instructed the messenger to bring him. He hadn't the faintest idea why she called him so urgently to come.
"I was in the middle of a meeting with the king and queen," Eizo said as Bulma shut and bolted the door behind them. One look around and he knew he was in a random guest chamber, one that was most likely very far from where she knew her husband to be. "They did not appreciate being hurried, what with the condition their kingdom is in."
"Sir," Bulma sighed, her back against the door. "I hope you are not referring to my late brother in such an offhanded manner."
"I only meant that I can see no urgency here." He bowed his head slightly. Of course there was; she needed him now more than she even had in all the years they'd known each other.
Suddenly Bulma was in front of him, her arms latched around his neck, lips pressed to his with fiery lust. He understood instantly; she needed a release from her pain, a way, if only for a moment, to forget her life and just feel.
"How long will your husband not be a concern?" Eizo asked breathlessly, his hands already at work on her tight silky garments. How he loathed the traditional dress of women at these moments.
"We have until eleven," she breathed, helping him with her clothes. "He will be in our chambers at midnight. I would like to look presentable."
"Two hours?" He kissed her deeply as he carried her light body to the bed, lying her down, her clothes seeming to melt away. "If that is all I can have, my queen," he whispered, "then I will take it every time."
"This will endure for as long as it can. When my husband catches wind of my affair, you are to show your face as usual and make him believe that you have nothing to hide."
"And after that, my dear?" He ran his tongue along her neck, suckling at the smooth flawless skin. It had been ten days since he had been with her; his loins were in agony. Until he was wed, he would take no other woman to bed.
A seductive grin spread across her features. "After that day we shall have to be more careful."
The massive brass clock struck eleven far too soon for the adulterous pair. Eizo practically collapsed atop Bulma, covering her with sweaty kisses, his hands running playfully through her hair. After five times, and much foreplay, neither was tired and both were thirsty for more; more love, more flesh, more of the past. Their lives were moving too fast for them to keep up.
"Once more, my love," he whispered huskily into her ear. He kissed her flushed cheeks, her drooping eyelids, her tender lips. He never wanted to leave with musty velvet-covered bed. "My hunger can never be satisfied of you."
"Then once more will do nothing for your hunger, my foolish prince." She kissed him back, almost roughly, and sat up, not caring that her breasts were bare and free, a light sheen of sweat covering her entire body. She would need to bathe before going to bed. "Now you will always know the reason behind my secret correspondences," she said, rather brashly, as she stood and retrieved her crumpled outer garment. She slipped it over her shoulders, allowing it to hang open, her precious nakedness still very much visible and positively maddening to her bedmate. It seemed not to faze her in the least that it was ruined and she had no explanation for its appearance. "Will you bathe with me, sweet prince? I fear your coach will give way to gossip if he takes one look at your unruly hair."
"When will I see you again, Bulma?" He stood, wrapping his arms around her hot form. If he pressed it, she would have him again.
"That name," she whispered, shying away. "Would I could hear it from everyone's lips."
"Forgive me. I meant no injury."
"No apologies are needed with me. Now come. I've seen Aneko draw a bath before. I'm sure it is not difficult."
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"Thank you, Koto," Vegeta said gruffly, slipping his trusty messenger a few gold coins. It was more than enough to feed his family for months. "You are an honorable servant. I will not forget this."
"Thank you, sire," Koto said, bowing low at the waist as he backed out of the training room.
"So she thinks she can hide her lover from me, does she?" he chuckled softly, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Well, we shall see about that my queen. Get comfortable. I shall have my justice."
He padded across the room to a barrel that had been cut in half and filled, on the hour, with cool, refreshing water. He cupped his hands, having no need for a crude wooden cup or spoon, and drank deeply. His immediately reaction to his new wife's infidelities angered him to his very core. Though now, as the icy water rushed down his throat to soothe his thirst, he found his heart had been the organ wounded. For eight years he had waited for a sign that he would have her as his queen, but now, after the wedding ceremony, she was no more his than she ever was. He was going to have to do so much more to win her trust, her heart.
He frowned and shook his head sadly. He saw no possible way he could ever accomplished such a task.
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It was one month to the day that Princess Nyoko and Prince Yukio had been joined together, and still their wedding bed was untouched. In that time, Bulma had snuck Eizo into the palace three times, each time thinking she was safe and secure with the messenger she chose. Vegeta was growing increasingly agitated with the situation. How long did she think she could commit such heinous deeds and go unpunished?
One evening he could stand it no longer. She sat across from him, per usual, picking at her meat with delicate fingers, then wiping them immediately with her napkin. He would have to find some utensils for her; how she hated to eat this way. It was so unnerving to him to watch her like this, sitting there so properly, as if all were normal.
"I told you once before, Princess, that you were not sweet," Vegeta said, sitting back, his goblet clutched in his massive hands.
"What relevance does such a rude comment have, my lord?" she asked, giving a small smile.
"It is very relevant, my dear," he laughed coldly. "The moment our vows were spoken, you were supposed to have become completely obedient to me. And while I believe that sort of thing is outdated, I do, as your husband, expect a certain degree of respect."
"Your meaning throws me, lord." But he could see the fear in her eyes.
"Unless I am training, you are to be at my side at all times, is that clear?"
Bulma nodded, bowing her head slightly.
"And when I am training, you are to have a chaperone."
"A chaperone!? My lord! What for? Am I not a grown woman, capable of fending for herself in her own palace?"
"But you forget, Princess." He leaned in and brushed his knuckles across her smooth pale cheek. "This is my palace, therefore my rules."
"I demand to know why I am being treated like a dog."
"Surely you already know," he chuckled deeply, giving her a rough kiss on the lips. "I can taste his vile breath on your lips."
Bulma's eyes widened, but she didn't say a word. He knew! How could he know!?
"If you see that man one more time," he breathed, teeth clenched, lips back, "I will not hesitate to expose you."
"Very well," she sighed, composing herself. "At least give me a chance to tell him. He has a right to know."
"He has a right to be beheaded by me for such an injustice," Vegeta snapped, slamming his hand on the table. "But," he said, sitting back, arms folded loosely across his chest, "I will be lenient with you this one time." Bulma sighed with relief, placing her delicate little hand on his. He withdrew as if she'd harmed him. "Send him a letter, but never again am I to hear that you two were alone together, even for a moment."
"You must understand, lord," Bulma ventured, "how difficult it is for me to live in a palace I do not know, with servants whose names I can scarcely remember. I had only wished to have some…comfort of home…Forgive me."
"Would the presence of your old chamber maid amend this discomfort?"
Bulma's eyes brightened; it took all Vegeta's strength to not reach across the table and grab her, to kiss her with all the passion that boiled relentlessly inside him.
"Lord," she whispered, holding her hand to her chest as if her breath had gone out of her. "You would arrange that?"
"My queen is unhappy," he stated. "It is my job as your husband to correct this."
On the other side of the room, where the entrance was, a servant came dashing in, clutching an envelope to his chest. He was pale and gasping when he reached the table. He bowed to both the prince and the princess, then handed the envelope to Vegeta.
"My lord," he said, bowing lower. The moment Vegeta's fingers began to unseal the letter, his servant backed away and left.
"Perfect," he groaned, after only skimming the message.
"What news, sir?" Bulma asked, leaning in.
"The king is returning tomorrow." He threw the letter down. "A month early. How like him to disrupt my time alone."
"You have a quarrel with your father, my lord?"
"Call me Ve—" He stopped short, lowering his eyes. "Yes, a great quarrel, though nothing that would interest you, my queen."
Bulma frowned. She stood from her seat and came around the side of the small crude table, resting her hands on his broad shoulders. Even if he was a rude and thankless man, she could not deny her physical attraction to him. Perhaps tonight she would give him what he desired. It was the least she could do as his wife.
She leaned her head in, brushing her lips lightly across his ear.
"Forgive my forwardness, my liege," she whispered huskily, her hand traveling across his shoulder and into the deep V of his collar. "Tonight, when you come into our chamber from your rigorous training, you shall not find your bride in a slumber or exhausted from the day's events." She took her other hand and gently pulled his face towards her, kissing him fervently. It was not until his hand reached up to the back of her head that she truly realized what she was doing. She excused herself quickly, and hurried out of the room, leaving her husband in a sensual daze. Maybe he would skip his training secession tonight.
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"You are allowed to kiss him," Bulma reassured herself as she paced her chamber, her slippered feet scuffing the floor as she walked. "He is your husband, your lord. You should have certain feelings for him. It is natural." But she could not stop thinking of his attitude, his rudeness, the way he treated her as more of a dog than a mate.
And then, as her pace slowed and she stopped, her hand grasping the bedpost, she thought of Eizo. If Yukio did not know about her affair, then Eizo would be the man she shared her bed with tonight. It had been two days since she had seen him, and her body ached for a release. She felt hopelessly guilty having seduced Yukio into their bed, though what had Eizo expected? That they never consummate? That they never have heirs and continue the family line?
"No," she said firmly, her eyebrows knitted. "He is my husband. I shall feel no guilt or no remorse."
Suddenly there was a noise at the door. Bulma looked up as the heavy wooden slab slowly creaked open. She was surprised to see Yukio standing in the doorway, his crown gleaming beautifully in the candlelight.
"Sire," she said, bowing her head slightly.
He shut and bolted the door without saying a word, then advanced in her direction, his strides small and calculated. When he reached her, he placed one hand on her shoulder, pushing the flimsy silk nightgown down to her elbow. He did not look at her when his hand traveled to the other shoulder, and gently slipped the other side to the elbow, exposing her plump round breasts completely. When he finally looked up, he expected to see a blush in her cheeks, but they were as pale as ever.
"You are an amazing woman," he whispered, kissing her feverishly, his warm hands pressed against her bare back. "But I must confess something first." His eyes turned drastically from passionate to almost sad.
"You are allowed to have your secrets, lord," she breathed, her passion mounting. Silence! She wanted to shout.
"This you have to know." His face was nestled in the crook of her neck.
"Please." She kissed him roughly, her hands up on his face. "Words can wait."
He nodded knowingly and pulled her close.
Finally, he thought, his lips pressed to her warm skin. But she still didn't know…
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---Chapter 6!! Woo! Vegeta's getting' him some! :P But when will he tell her his true identity? And what will her reaction be? Will she remember her past then?
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Next time: How will Eizo take Bulma's news? And what about King Frieza?
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