Chapter Two:
The room stunk of blood, piss, cum and vomit. Each smell was so strong that you could pick it out from all the others if you thought about it.
This room was only one of about twenty torture chambers in the castle, and all beneath the basement, in dark corridors and damp halls that few knew even existed. There was only one way into these rooms, and only one way out…
A young Saiyan boy was strapped to the table in the center of the room. Men and women in white clothing stood around the table. Some washed instruments in the dirty sinks in each corner. Others sharpened them.
"Please… My love, don't do this. He's just a boy. He doesn't deserve this fate," a young woman pleaded, grovelling on her knees to the strong Saiyan male above her, watching the boy on the table with sharp eyes that glazed over all emotion.
"It's a known fact that a Saiyan's power is increased tenfold once they begin training without their tails. It's a mercy to do it while he's so young."
The boy let out a few gurgled cries as the man spoke, staring at the floor below the edge of the table.
"And he is my son. I will do with him as I please."
"Look at him," the woman continued to beg, "He's scared. you're scaring him. Can't you see his tears. Just let him go. Let him make the choice when he's older, as all Saiyans do. Wait until he comes of age. I beg of you—"
In the blink of an eye, the man slapped the woman so hard that her entire body spun entirely around before her face slammed into the concrete floor.
"Don't hurt her!" the boy cried out, trying to lift his head, despite the chains and straps that bound him, face down, to the table.
"Shut up, boy!"
"It's okay…" the woman said, struggling to sit up on her knees again, she got close to the table and smiled at the boy. "You'll be just fine, I promise. I'll take care of you when it's over, and you'll be fine. Okay?"
"Wench!" The man struck her again, harder this time. She yelped and slammed against the ground, but this time she didn't get up.
"Mother!"
"Enough of this! You don't need some common wench to help you when you're in pain! You're my son! You will endure this and you will be proud of the pain you can withstand! Do you understand me, boy?!"
"Don't hurt her..." the boy cried, staring at the motionless woman, face first in the concrete. "Please…"
"And never beg! No son of mine will beg for the life of a weak female! If she can't even sit up after two hits, then she deserves to be put down like a dog!"
"It… It'll be okay..." the boy heard the woman whisper into the ground. "I… I love you."
"Enough!" the man roared. "Do it now!" He reached for the woman and lifted her up off the ground from the back of her shirt.
"Please… have mercy on him..." she cried, tears mixing in with the blood on her face. The boy watched as the man suddenly slammed his fist through the woman's stomach, ripping out blood and gore, before dropping her lifeless body to the ground. The boy screamed, just as the dull edge of a serrated blade touched the base of his tail. His eyes went wide as they began to cut…
…
The castle shook.
Every person in every corner, from the servants' quarters to the throne room, from the Saiyan elites to the house mice felt it. It shook the base like thunder, but only those nearest to the blast heard the eruption come from the recovery room.
Bulma felt it in her sleep, but didn't wake. She was dreaming of Earth and of her parents. To be honest, she didn't remember her parents anymore. She only remembered that her father had gray hair and her mother was a blonde. She couldn't picture them smiling or laughing. She didn't have any memories with them… It made her very sad when she thought about it. But in her dreams, she made memories with them. Her mother was taking her out shopping at farmers markets, picking up fresh fruit. She remembered apples, which they didn't have on Planet Vegeta, and she told her mother all about the things the Saiyan planet didn't have. The conversations she had with her mother often got dark at some points, and then she would wake up. But she enjoyed this part, where she could just talk and talk and her mother would never interrupt her. In fact, since she couldn't remember the sound of her mother's voice, maybe she never spoke at all in her dreams… She couldn't remember. But when she did open her mouth, it was always a stranger's voice. It was sometimes a man's voice. But she could never remember it when she woke up—
A solid hit to her side jolted her awake. It didn't hurt so much as it was just… shocking to be woken up in such a way. She squinted her eyes and rolled over.
And froze.
The Saiyan prince stood over her, a hateful scowl on his face and his arms crossed a little too tightly. She jumped up and nearly fell to the floor.
"Your Highness!" she said, trying her best not to sound groggy. She looked back onto the bed and held her breath. She never realized she'd been such a light sleeper—the bed was a mess. She'd kicked the pillows and the blanket to the floor and the sheets were all bunched up at the foot of the bed. One corner was even off the mattress itself. "Oh… my… I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I must have been so tired. My Lord, please forgive my actions. I'll make your bed right away. I'll get new sheets and be back in two minutes."
But he was blocking her way out yet again. But instead of being afraid of punishment, something else suddenly came over Bulma and it was relief. She couldn't stop it…
"Wait," she said, breathing out heavily and taking a step closer to him. "Wait, you're okay." And she didn't know why, but she smiled. "I… I'm so glad!"
The prince's eyes went wide and his lips parted before Bulma realized her mistake. But when she did, her nervousness came right back in a hurry.
"Oh… gods… I'm so sorry, my Lord. I was so informal just now… I must still be waking up. I'm so very sorry. I'll get those sheets right away—"
"No, leave them."
"M… My Lord?"
"I want breakfast. Have it ready in ten minutes."
"Of course."
Bulma quickly bowed and headed for the door.
"Oh and servant woman!" She paused and turned. "Bring enough for yourself as well."
…
"That's a little weird," Chichi said, raising a delicate eyebrow. "Maybe he's still recovering from that head injury."
"I hope so. I hate when he acts like that…"
"He's done it before?"
Bulma frowned. "Well, not really. But sometimes he's strangely nice to me, and it's just uncomfortable from start to finish. He's never asked me to fetch my own breakfast though."
"Or invited you to eat with him. You know, if a man did that on Earth, then he was asking you out on a date." Chichi winked.
"A what?"
"A date? Have you really been on this planet so long?" she giggled.
"No, I remember now." Bulma looked at her feet. "It would be better if we didn't think about those kinds of things. You know how it is with Yamcha and all..."
"You're such a romantic, Bulma! Stop worrying about Yamcha. Almost every time you come in here, you make some comment about it, and it's never something nice."
"I don't know how you get anything romantic from me talking about Yamcha."
"No, but you're a romantic because you want something romantic… right?"
"I don't even know what that means…"
"It means tales of knights in shining armor, defending their princesses, slaying dragons for their wives, bravely protecting their daughters until the day they die. Don't you remember the fairy tales from Earth?"
"You remember that planet more than anyone else in the universe, Chi."
"Hmm… well that planet was our home… I would like to always remember where I come from."
"It's just worthless memories to me…"
Chichi frowned. She knew what happened to Bulma's parents and sister. It was the same thing that happened to everyone else's families. But it didn't make it any less painful, and she knew that.
"The prince said ten minutes, right? You're cutting it close, as always. The cart's ready to go. Don't be late."
Bulma nodded once and headed back to the room.
As soon as she entered, she heard a light snoring and sighed. She walked towards to table and turned, not expecting the double door to be slid all the way open. She had a perfect view of the prince, lying shirtless on top of the messy bed she'd created. She assumed he'd be tired after spending so much time in recovery, but that wasn't why she was staring.
Romance, huh? Knights in shining armor… and princes. She didn't like to admit it, but she remembered some of the old bedtime stories her father told her. She knew all about the fairy tales and the love stories… But she also knew that it wasn't her place to think about such things. Yamcha would sleep with her when the king demanded it of them, and he would keep doing it until she was pregnant with a baby girl. And if she happened to have a boy, she would have to do it all over again. And over again. And over again.
She inhaled when she felt a traitor tear fall down her cheek to her chin. She turned away from the sleeping prince and set up his breakfast as quickly as she could, doing her best to make as little noise as possible. When his plates were set up, she took out the single platter than Chichi had made for her and set it across the way, at the farthest seat from the prince. She removed the top to find three small pancakes, complete with a pat of butter and a cup of syrup on the side. She took out a rolled napkin from the cart and a fork and knife as well. She made her setup as pretty as the prince's and couldn't help but smile at her work.
"Late again, woman."
She jumped. He was always so quiet…
"I'm so—"
"Don't you dare apologize to me again. You're setting a record and the day's barely started."
Bulma lowered her head.
"Sit. Eat."
"Yes, sir," she said, almost sadly. She ate her pancakes in silence, ignoring the slurping and chewing sounds from the other end of the table. He was a messy eater, but he always cleaned his plate. So, when Bulma was full before she finished, she wondered if the prince would be mad about her throwing away her last few bites.
"I need a shower after this. I can still smell the blood on me," he spat, leaning back in his chair.
Bulma nodded once and moved to stand.
"Not yet, woman."
She paused and slowly sat back down, watching as the prince closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He looked like he had a lot on his mind.
"Are you going to be busy today, your Highness?" Bulma asked.
"Why would it matter to a servant girl like yourself? What, do you have some big plans for the day?" he snickered, rolling his eyes. Bulma looked down. She wasn't sure why, but she felt like trying to talk to him. After his near-death, Bulma did think about the fact that she'd never really talked to him before.
"Are you going to be training today, my Lord?"
"Of course I will. What a stupid question."
"Are you sure that's all right? You just came out of recovery and your injuries—"
"—What are you doing?"
"Pardon… my Lord?"
"What do you want? Spit it out, woman!" He slammed his fist on the table and Bulma jumped. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. Why was she so skittish?
"I… I'm sorry if I've offended you," she said, quickly standing and giving a little bow. "I'll have your shower ready for you in five minutes, sir." But when she turned, he was in her way, showing off that Saiyan speed of his. He eyed her for a moment before narrowing his eyes.
"What's your name again, servant woman?" he suddenly asked, and Bulma blinked a few times, confused. She couldn't tell why, though. Either it was because he seriously didn't know her name, or the fact that he seriously wanted to know what it was. Maybe her confusion came from both prospects.
"Bulma Briefs, your Highness…"
"And how long have you had this position?"
"Th… Three years, sir." Didn't he know this already?
"Hmm."
Bulma stood there for a while, not sure if she was allowed to look at his face, so her eyes darted from the walls to the floor and back again several times before the silence was broken again.
"Make sure the water is hot."
"Of course."
….
Bulma heard Prince Vegeta turn off the water and the creak in the floors as he stepped out and dried himself off. She waited a few minutes after cleaning up the table and pushing the cart outside the room, and he stepped out into the open, a black towel wrapped around his waist, and another in his hand as he grabbed his wet hair in clumps with it. Bulma carefully watched where each drop of water fell, and memorized it for when he left for his usual routine. She was surprised he'd taken so long already, especially with his breakfast request, but after what happened, it's not like she had a right to say what he should and shouldn't be doing with his time.
A knock at the door made her jump again, and she started to get mad at herself for doing it again. When the prince didn't budge, she stood and answered the door.
"There you are!" the green-skinned woman pushed past Bulma and walked straight at the prince, immediately wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning up for a kiss. Bulma was about to blush, but he slapped her instead, causing a silencing clap to echo through the room. The woman's head remained to the one side in her shock, and Bulma gulped.
The woman took a careful step back, her arms at her sides, and gave a small bow. She then looked the prince right in the eyes and smiled up at him before turning towards his bedchambers.
"My, my… What happened to your sheets? Did you have someone in there before me, or is the handmaiden just not doing her job?"
"Get out."
"Excuse me, your Lordship?"
"I said get out. I've already washed. I don't need your filth all over me this early in the day."
"Oh… Of course, my handsome Lord. I'll come back later tonight if you desire."
"There won't be a need for that."
"B… But… your Lordship…"
"If you show up uninvited again, I'll blast your head off and put your naked body on display outside my door for all to see. Is that clear enough for you?"
"Why? Are you trying to turn on the neighbors?" she asked seductively, wiggling her hips back and forth. She had guts, but Bulma noticed that she was still staying a good two or three paces from the prince as she spoke her backtalk.
The prince simply raised one fist, pointing straight out at the woman, and then opened his hand, palm facing out. Bulma tilted her head to one side, wondering what that meant, when all of a sudden a bright light began forming in his palm.
"Get out," he said softly, but the threat in his voice was unmistakable, and the green woman left in a hurry, without another word.
When she was gone, Bulma watched the prince slowly lower his hand back down to his side. He looked close to furious, as if he was going to lose control, but she could see his anger slowly slipping away. She breathed in relief.
"And what about you?" he asked loudly, and Bulma met his eyes.
"What about me, my Lord?"
"You don't want to try anything? Isn't that why you've been such a chatterbox today?"
"I… I don't understand. Forgive me."
"Forgive you? For what?"
"I don't know what you mean, my Lord."
"That's why you were sleeping in my bed. That's why your pulse rose when you were eating at the table. It's why your body heat increased when that whore got close me. It's why you've been talking so much about what I'm doing. You females are so easy to figure out. You think you can hide anything from me, woman?"
And maybe this was the reason Bulma never spoke to the prince before, or tried to engage him in any kind of conversation. Because simple order-following was easy, but conversing with royalty without getting killed… even her friends knew that would never happen.
"Wait... a damn... minute," Bulma hissed. "You think that this whole morning has been me trying to… what? Sleep with you? My pulse? My body heat? Are you serious?! I was trying to see if maybe after three years of dedicated service, maybe I could get to know you a little bit, and maybe you'd be interested to know a little about me, too. Because I do all this work for you for years and you don't even know my name?! You have some nerve, standing there all high and mighty while I bring you your food and prepare you showers and clean up that rotten mess you made yesterday! And you think you have some right to declare what I want?! Well, guess what, mister royal pain-in-the-ass! I wouldn't sleep with you if you were going to give me my whole planet back!"
There was a long moment of quiet, and it gave Bulma plenty of time to calm down and realize what she'd just done. Her face slowly went from rage-fueled to fearing for her life.
"I should have you killed for speaking to me like that."
"Then just do it and be done with it," she whispered, a big part of her already accepting her death.
There was more silence. She figured he was probably wondering how she should die. Maybe going over different torture methods in his head…
"What planet are you from anyway?" he asked.
"Don't worry, you blew it up when I was still practically a baby. You can't destroy it anymore."
"Why would I want to do that?"
"Well, you were thinking that would be my punishment, weren't you? Blowing up my planet? Well, your people did it already, years ago. You're a little late to the party."
"Oh just shut up and answer me."
"How can I answer you if you want me to shut up?"
"I am going to kill you. Answer me."
Bulma paused, wondering if he was being serious or threatening.
"Earth," she said softly. "My planet was called Earth."
"You're an Earthling… How interesting."
"And why would such a powerful Saiyan find a weak Earthling interesting?"
"You're going to regret it if you keep talking back to me."
"I've said so much already that I'm just surprised I haven't regretting anything yet."
Another pause.
"Do you want to die? Maybe that's what this is all about?"
"If I was planning on dying, I hardly think I'd care to talk to you in my last hours."
He lifted an eyebrow at her and took a few slow paces forward. Bulma backed up as he kept walking and soon realized that she was being herded into his bedchambers. She stopped moving before she hit the edge of the bed, but he didn't.
"You have such nasty things to say to me," he said with a sly smirk, "Why is that, woman?"
"Because you said you're going to kill me. Murderers don't deserve my respect."
"I am your prince."
"You're not my prince."
"Would you like me to be?"
"W...Wh..."
In the next moment, Prince Vegeta was less than an inch from her, and if Bulma took a step back, she would surely land on the bed, and that was the last place she wanted to be right now. So, she held her ground, knowing that her heart was racing and her blood was boiling.
"Please, step away from me."
"Or what? You'll scream for help? Don't make me laugh."
Bulma stared right at his naked chest, unwavering, unblinking. She held her ground, steadying her breathing.
"I said… Step away from me."
"And what if I don't, woman? What then? What if I grab you and throw you down and have my way with you? What will you do? Nothing. Because there's nothing that you could do. No one would come to help you, and if anyone was foolish enough to try, I would kill them for interfering with my fun. Do you not understand that? You, with your angry words and your rude way of addressing your prince."
"You're not my prince."
"Again with that? You are a stubborn one, I'll give you that." He paused and took a quick step back. Bulma still didn't move. He was still too close. "Although… what kind of a leader would I be if word got around that you spoke to me like a commoner and I did nothing about it?"
This was it. Something bad was about to happen and she knew it.
"Lay down," he commanded, narrowing his eyes, but Bulma shook her head. "I won't take you against your will. But you will lay down. Now." Fearing it could easily get worse, she backed up and slowly sat down on the edge of the prince's bed. "All the way, back down." She pursed her lips and did as she was told. She watched the prince gather up two of the fallen pillows and walk over to her. "Lift your head." When she did, he placed the pillows under her. He stood there for a moment, just staring at her. She stared back. "You're afraid..." he said, lifting his chin. "You should be." He reached for her throat and Bulma squeezed her eyes shut in fright, but what came next she wasn't expecting.
The wind was knocked out of her and her rib cage felt like it was about to implode on her lungs. She gasped for air, but only got just enough. Her eyes widened and she looked up at the prince, holding her anti-gravity collar in his hand, waving it around with a frown on his face.
"You'll spend one hour like this. I'll come back and put it back on, and you will immediately drop to your knees and beg for my forgiveness. Do you understand, servant?"
Bulma opened her mouth to answer, but her windpipe was almost closed from the weight and only a hoarse breath came out. She wasn't entirely sure she was going to last an hour, but the prince was already out the door, taking her collar with him…
…
Bulma woke up on a hard table, surrounded by bright lights and white coats. She gasped and sat upright, reaching for her throat. She nearly cried when she felt the collar back on her neck.
"You're awake. Good."
One of the people in the white coats was speaking, but she didn't know which one. They all looked the same.
"Your injuries weren't severe. If you're feeling all right, you can leave whenever you feel ready. Prince Vegeta has issued a command for you to return to his chambers when you are healthy again."
Bulma gulped. He throat and chest were a bit sore, but that was it. She wondered what they must have done to heal her. When the collar was off for only a fraction of a minute, she felt like she was going to die. How did she last a whole hour like that? How were her injuries not severe?
"You should hurry. He's not a very patient man, as I'm sure you know now."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Bulma sneered, struggling to sit up and then stand. She still didn't know who she was talking to, but one of the coats turned around and a woman replied.
"Well, you wouldn't be in here unless what he did to you was some kind of punishment. We were simply implying that you must have done something to test the prince's patience before he brought you here."
"Wait, he… brought me here?"
"And he didn't seem very happy about it, either."
"What… What happened?"
"He removed your collar? Are you having difficulty with your memories now?" A few of the coats turned to look at her, probably ready to give more tests based on her answer.
"No. No, I remember that part. I just… don't know what happened since then."
"That's understandable. You fell unconscious, probably after the first few minutes without your collar. The gravity here does that to weaklings like yourself. And longer than that and you would have died."
"A few minutes? That's how long the collar was off?"
"You wouldn't have survived if it'd been any longer."
Bulma looked at them in confusion. But Prince Vegeta said that it would stay off for an hour. But instead he let her fall unconscious and then brought her to recovery? That didn't seem like something he would do… She couldn't help but think that they weren't telling her something.
"I'd better be off, then. Thank you very much for healing me."
"Try not to piss him off anymore. You're body is a fragile one. You wouldn't be able to survive if the prince was truly angry with you. And our skills of healing are only so limited."
Bulma gulped and nodded before leaving the room through the swinging door. It was a bit of a walk back to the prince's chambers, and she wondered what would happen once she got there. Hopefully, he'd be off training or something. She really didn't want to see him. So much for showing respect… He treated her just as he treated his whores. Maybe even worse. She felt like he saw her as a prisoner. Just a weak Earthling girl that he could bend and twist to his will. She wished she could fight him, even with her words. But sadly, she would only end up getting hurt again.
She hadn't realized the strain on her muscles was so great and she had to pause in an empty hall and lean down on her knees to rest for a moment. She felt like she'd trained harder than a Saiyan, and that was only the affects of the gravity after a few minutes. She truly was weak… wasn't she? She certainly felt like it now. She could barely walk on her own, and the collar was back around her neck.
She took a few gulps of air and continued walking, using the rock walls for support, careful to not scrape her skin on the sharp parts or get too close to the candles and hot wax lighting up the hall.
She came to the door and reached into her front pocket. And froze.
Her keys… Where were they? She couldn't lose them. She had keys to practically every room in the castle, in case the prince asked her to get something that most others could not. But if she lost them… and someone else had them and tried to steal things or… She would be blamed. And then she wouldn't be dealing with the prince. She would be dealing with the king's wrath—
"Looking for these?"
Bulma turned to find the prince walking up the hall to her right, swinging her key chain around his fingers. A firm frown caressed his lips and his eyes looked just as dangerous as ever. Bulma's jaw shook in fright and she lowered her head, remember the last thing he told her.
Without being able to control herself, she cried as she let her knees hit the floor.
"Your Highness, please forgive me. I beg of you."
There was silence for a second before the prince spat, and Bulma looked at the small splotch of saliva sitting next to her on the floor.
"I shouldn't have removed your collar," he finally said, and Bulma looked up at him, her eyes red and wet, in surprise. "I forgot that you still had to clean up breakfast. You were in recovery for too long. You'll work through the night to complete your work. Don't leave until you've finished."
Bulma sat back on her heels and looked up at the prince, something strange in her eyes. He lifted an eyebrow expectantly and Bulma swallowed.
"Yes, my Lord." Her mouth was so dry. "If I may, your Highness. May I ask how long I was in recovery?"
"About six hours." He frowned. "I'll still expect a full meal for dinner, and a hot shower before bed. Don't be late, woman."
Bulma nodded, but something else was nagging at her.
"My Lord, why aren't you in training? Didn't you say that you were going to train today? Forgive me for asking, but I wouldn't want you miss it. If it's because of me, I'm so sorry. I'll—"
"Stop grovelling! Stand up!" Bulma stood slowly, and with noticeable effort. "I completed my training while you were napping! And why would I miss anything because of you?!"
"My apologies—"
"Why are you so noisy?!"
"I'm sorry, my—"
"Don't you know when to shut up, or do you need to be punished again?!"
"My, my..."
Bulma turned when a stranger's voice came from the other end of the hall. It was a fat, pink-skinned man in full Saiyan armor. He had a huge grin on his face as he approached them. Bulma heard Vegeta let out an angry sigh and immediately lowered her head.
"What do you want, Dodoria? Can't you see I'm busy?"
"What I saw was you getting all riled up because of a female," the pink man laughed. He seemed jolly on the outside, but Bulma saw a sneaky look in his eyes that she didn't like. "Imagine if your father saw you like this." He laughed again. Vegeta growled.
"Are you seriously trying to threaten me? Do you know how stupid that is?"
"It wasn't a threat at all, my Prince. I was simply stating that it's very un-royal of you to get so angry because of a weak maid. I could feel you energy rising from across the castle."
"The fact that you felt it and still came here proves how stupid you really are."
"Why, my Prince? Are you going to kill me? You'd have to explain that death to the king, as I'm sure you're aware. I am, after all, one of the defenders that his Grace, King Cold, sent here to protect the Saiyan as a sign of good faith. And my death certainly isn't something King Vegeta would like to explain to my king."
"Watch your tongue, or I'll kill you and say it was treason."
"Easy now. We both know you're stronger. There's no need for a fight."
"Then quit begging for one."
"It's just… now that I'm here. May I ask who this beautiful young lady is that has you so frustrated?"
"You may not. Be on your way before I blast you."
"Are you protective of her as well? How curious, little prince."
"It isn't wise to mock me, Dodoria."
"I agree. I should be on my way now."
The fat pink man stretched a sly smile across his face before walking right past the prince and being on his way. Vegeta's anger instantly turned on Bulma and he looked at her in disgust.
"Get in the room and start cleaning. You still need to fix my bed after you slept in it. I want a new mattress tonight to get rid of the Earthling stink."
Bulma's jaw almost dropped, but she held her tongue and bowed.
"Well?" the prince demanded, crossing his arms when Bulma remained bowed.
"I need my keys. Your chambers are always locked, sir."
"Tch," he spat again, tossing the keys at her feet and crossing his arms again. Bulma wanted to glare at him, but she stared down at the keys instead until her rage subsided. She held the side of her left leg and attempted to bend down without being in too much pain.
"I thought you were healed!" the prince roared suddenly. "How are you going to properly do your job when you can barely pick your keys off the ground?!"
"I'm sorry, your Highness." Bulma tried to sound sincere, but she was losing herself again. Her voice came out bland and uncaring, and she knew that the prince could tell.
"Enough of this," he grumbled, snatching the keys just as her fingertips reached them. He unlocked the door and walked inside, not bothering to hold it open for her. She grabbed it before it shut again and stepped inside behind him. Reluctantly, she closed it behind her, leaving the two of them in silence in a locked room. "Go to bed, woman."
"Wh… What? But…" She looked at the empty plates, still on the table from the morning. There was still light outside the single window near the garderobe entrance. There were crumbs on the floor and the bed was still a mess. No doubt the tub and shower were both flooded from this morning, too. Bulma waited for the prince to change his mind once he looked around and saw all the work that still needed to be done.
"Are you deaf?!"
"But… My Lord, your chambers are a mess… Please let me—"
"Do as you're told, servant woman!"
"Or what?" Bulma said slowly, sadly. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold herself back much longer at this rate. She wondered how long she would even live in the castle anymore. Now that the prince actually hurt her… she had such a hard time showing the same level of respect as before she'd seen this side of him, especially towards her. "Will you punish me again?"
"Do you want me to?" he threatened.
"Of course not."
"Then why talk back?" he growled.
"I don't understand when you try to be nice to me… after you could have easily killed me, but… you came back to give me my collar."
"Nice? Nice?!" He approached her dangerously and Bulma involuntarily took a step back, towards the bedchambers. "Don't misunderstand, woman. The only reason I didn't let you die is because I realized how much of an annoyance it would be to have another servant trained to do your job. It would take too long and I don't have the time or patience to get used to another female strutting around my chambers."
"I do not strut," Bulma glowered.
"Just get some rest so you can properly do your job. I don't want to have to watch you struggle like the weak Earthling you are. You'd probably destroy my dinner or inconvenience me again before the day is over."
"Are you seriously implying that you taking off my collar was an inconvenience to you?"
"Implying?! If you weren't so weak, I wouldn't have had to carry you to the medical facility! You could have just healed on my bed!"
"I'm sorry, was I too heavy for the great Saiyan prince?!"
"You're testing my patience again, woman. Watch what you say."
"Well, now it's a comfort to know that when I get punished, at least I inconvenience you."
"Not if you're dead..."
"But then I can bathe in the gods' glory of how you'd be having so much fun training someone else to do my job, right?"
"I'd just have someone else train the new wench!"
"Yea? And how would she learn that you like the red pillows on the left side of the bed? Or how you like it when the water overflows when you get into a bath? Or how you hate it when the center of your meat is too hot? Or how you need pieces of ice in your water? Or that you want a black towel after sleeping with a whore and a white one after you've finished training? Or what about when your clothes aren't in the right order in the dresser on the right? The new bitch would learn the hard way that—"
The prince was in front of her in a flash, and it took Bulma by surprise. She stumbled, and with how weak the muscles in her legs were, she tumbled backwards, hitting her bottom hard against the ground, smacking another sore muscle so hard she cried out.
"Is that what you are?" the prince asked, smirking. "A bitch?" He slowly leaned down, smiling dangerously at her, getting too close to her face. "My bitch."
Bulma took one last, long look at her sanity before slapping him as hard as she could with an open palm. The clap echoed for what felt like hours, and Bulma breathed like she'd just sprinted a mile, clenching her teeth so hard it hurt her jaw. When the prince finally turned his head back to look at her, he was smirking. She glared at him, with all the hate she'd been feeling since leaving the recovery room, hoping he could feel it emanating from her like a dangerous aura.
"You know… I haven't had a good fuck in over two days, and it's been a long two days…"
"You stay away from me," Bulma hissed.
"I don't think so."
He crawled forward and Bulma immediately put her hands up, trying to push him away.
"It's more fun when you fight," he smirked, pushing her down onto the floor.
"You're seriously going to rape me?!" Bulma cried out. "Are you fucking serious?! Get the hell off me!"
Vegeta froze for a moment, but then went back to smirking.
"You say the strangest things sometimes, woman. I'm not going to rape you… You're going to ask me to fuck you, and then I'm going to fuck you."
"How about I tell you to go fuck yourself, and then you get the hell off me!"
"So stubborn… I am the prince on this planet. And you will ask me."
"You're not. My. Prince!"
Bulma reached her hand up to slap him again, but he grabbed her before she got the chance. She gurgled for a moment before spitting in his face. He flinched and his smirk disappeared, replaced by a tight frown. He snarled and stood, grabbing her and dragging her up with him. Bulma cried out as he lifted her from sore muscles and threw her onto the bed. As he got closer, Bulma couldn't stop the scream that came out of her mouth.
"Shut up, wench!" the prince screamed back, throwing out his hand to point at her. "Get some fucking rest!"
He slammed the door behind him as he stormed out.