Chapter Twelve:
Bulma gulped.
Maron had dragged her and Goku over to an opening in the wall while Chichi set the table for the first course of the royal families' meal. They watched them through the opening as Chichi flawless glided through the seating and made sure not a fork or napkin was out of place. She was truly good at her job here, Bulma mused. But just as she was promised, Vegeta was sitting in full view, his back to her while he sat at the large, rectangular table. The king sat at the head, and three women sat on the side opposite of Vegeta. One was a middle-aged woman. The other was a young girl, and the last was an elderly woman. Bulma noted that she looked extremely frail. She also noticed how the so-called "Warkinds" resembled people from her own planet. They had pale-pink skin with dark hair. Their limbs and general stature were almost exact to Earthlings and Saiyans, as well.
"Why aren't you in there helping her?" Maron suddenly asked, narrowing her eyes at Goku, who stood behind them, also watching the meeting through the opening.
"Uh…," he looked down, "I would have, but… I don't think the king would react well to seeing me help Chichi with her kitchen work after… after what happened. I just didn't want to cause a scene in front of the guests."
"Are you sure you didn't want the king making fun of you for doing kitchen work?" Maron smirked.
"There's nothing shameful about being able to cook. To be honest, the king has probably never cooked a meal in his life, so if anything, I'm proud to be able to do something he can't do. And I only know what I do because Chichi taught me a few things, so—"
"Oh, shh! They're saying something!" Maron hushed, cutting him off. Bulma almost rolled her eyes, but instead she kept them glued on the table. It was the king who spoke first, probably to relieve some of the tension. Chichi was still gliding around the table with decorations, this time. They barely noticed her, which she was sure everyone was thankful for.
"We've already had our greetings," the king said bluntly. "Now, please enjoy this meal our servants have prepared for you, and we may discuss the terms at your leisure."
"I mean no offense, you Highness, but we do not have time for leisure as your people do," the middle-aged Warkind spoke, and Bulma found herself holding her breath. Did she actually think she could speak to the king that way and not be in trouble? But as she waited in dead silence, the king made no move, nor expression. Wasn't he angry?
"Of course," he finally spoke, and his voice was calm. "Then please begin." He motioned for Chichi, and Bulma's heart almost leapt out of her stomach. Chichi seemed to understand what he wanted, though, and she did a slight bow before rushing out of the room. She hurried over to them around the corner, but everyone remained silent. The opening wasn't soundproof, at all. And if the king knew they were spying on the meeting, they might all be dead.
"Maron," Chichi whispered, motioning for her to come over to her. "Food. Now," she mouthed, and Maron nodded and headed over, tiptoeing to their cart and grabbing a few things. "Remember what I taught you," Bulma heard Chichi say, before they both disappeared around the corner again. She was left with Goku, who just kept watching. She didn't want to break the silence, so she watched alongside him.
"As I'm sure you're well aware," the middle-aged woman spoke loudly and firmly, "Many of our women were raped to death by your soldiers when you invaded our planet for the first time, two years ago." There was so much venom behind her words, and Bulma just waited until the king couldn't take it anymore. But the large, terrifying man stayed quiet and, strangely enough, submissive to the woman while she spoke. "Some of those women were fortunate enough to live through the ordeal. But many survivors killed themselves," she spat. "But some did not… And a small number of them ended up with child."
"If you are asking for support for those children, I will gladly offer compensation. They will never go hungry or want for anything in the world," the king said, folding his hands together on the table.
"That's… not what I had in mind… In fact, these children are a blessing to my people. At barely two years old, some of these children are stronger than out soldiers, faster than our messengers, and more intelligent than our dedicated scholars. I must say, that the Warkind-Saiyan offspring are… remarkable."
"Just state your terms, woman," the king grumbled. "I don't have time for games." He sounded so much like Vegeta, Bulma thought. That was definitely where he got it from… Like father, like son.
"I am here in place of my sister, the queen. And she has instructed me to outline these terms for you. Not only will you take financial responsibility of the already-born half-breeds, but you will also provide us with Saiyan males to impregnate more of our women. My queen desires more of these spectacular and brilliant children to brighten our planet's future."
"It will be done," the king said, frowning.
"But that is not all," the woman continued with a smirk. She had something over the king… But what was it? Bulma couldn't figure it out. Why would the king act so submissive? It certainly wasn't like him, and she'd never seen him this way before. "That was only the frosting on the cake. My queen made one very specific demand, and she instructed me that this term is non-negotiable." There was silence for a moment as the woman made sure everyone was listening. Maron and Chichi stood near the door, looking at the ground and pretending not to listen. No one was paying attention to kitchen servants, anyway. Bulma's eyes were glued to the woman's mouth.
"Well?" the king pressed. "Tell me what the queen has requested."
"You must understand that your attack on our planet was uncalled for and oh, what a surprise to the royal family to suddenly find a Saiyan army on your front porch one morning. You must forgive me for saying this, but a small, meager meal and some chit-chat simply isn't enough for my queen to accept your peoples' apology. For all she knows, we could sign a treaty, and tomorrow you may as well attack us again. Simply put, we must have something valuable… Let's say, a reason for you not to attack us anymore."
"State your terms, woman," the king glowered. And there it was, Bulma thought. The king wasn't going to stand for this kind of underhanded insulting for much longer.
The woman smiled and waved her hand over the girl sitting beside her. "This," she said proudly, "is the oldest princess to the king and queen. By right, she will one day be the queen of the Warkinds, as well. And in order to establish everlasting peace between our peoples, we must have a unison of some kind between us. A connection, so to speak."
"What kind of connection?" the king asked, but Bulma already knew what the woman's demands were going to be. She watched them, barely noticing that she was holding her breath.
"There is no need for silly ceremonies, or unnecessary bonding. The queen has requested that the next prince or princess, after her daughter, be a noble half-breed, with strength, speed and intelligence like no other king or queen before her."
"We have plenty of elites and nobles," the king replied, narrowing his eyes, "You may have your pick of them."
"Oh, but you know that won't be good enough. For a princess… we must have a prince," the woman smiled. "The queen has requested that your son be the father of her new successor."
"That's ridiculous," the king spat. "I will not have my father's blood running through that… that child!"
And for the first time, Bulma looked at the child sitting quietly beside the arrogant woman with the chip on her shoulder. She was small… she couldn't be much older than fourteen, if these people aged the same as Earthlings. She swung her legs back and forth under the table and stared at her folded hands in her lap. She wore a pink dress and a frightened expression. This was insane… this woman was asking for Vegeta to… and to a child…
"Oh, yes you will. Because if you do not, my queen will retaliate against your people with all the force of our planet and her people. And all-out war with us will certainly result in a devastating destruction of both our populations. So much, that it would take centuries to rebuild our empires to what they once were. And maybe for next time, you'll do some research before attacking a planet that you assume is weak and frail. You made your mistakes, King Vegeta," she mocked. "Now, you must submit to our demands to make peace. That is your only option."
There was more silence, until the king finally stood. "Very well. It will be done." The woman nodded at him once. "But," he growled, "If you want a half-Saiyan child, that's one thing. But you're asking for my blood. My father's blood. The blood of the royal family of this planet. That is not something you should take lightly, because I certainly will not. As this child grows, I will be constantly informed of its progress."
"It will live on my planet and grow as a Warkind. It will have little-to-nothing to do with your planet or your people. We will not have the future leader of our people growing up to be a savage, relentless brute. We will, of course, enlighten her as to her background and what her Saiyan half means. But she will, by no means, be interacting with Saiyans in her daily life. You may be kept knowledgeable about her growth, but that does not mean that my queen will allow you to be a part of her life."
"You do understand that by right, a half-breed would also be in line for the throne of Planet Vegeta," the king glowered. "For that very reason, the child will be stripped of all rights on this planet. It will not be welcomed here with open arms as I'm sure your queen is hoping. The child will have no power over my planet or my people."
"I did not speak with her of such things. But, it is her understand that you would not attack a planet ruled by your own blood. If you can give me your word on this, then we can get started on the minor details of this arrangement."
The king slightly nodded, but Bulma noted that it seemed like a struggle to him. She also noticed that Vegeta hadn't said a word this entire time. Was he just here for show? Did he truly have no power in front of his father. This definitely involved him, so… She wondered if he would say anything, or if he had to be spoken to first…
"Very well," the woman smiled, suddenly waving her hand over to the elderly Warkind. Bulma had almost forgotten about the other woman. She was still as a statue. "This is my mother, the last queen, recently stepped down. While I must go home after these negotiations, she will stay here with the princess to watch over her, and make sure that these details are strictly followed. If they are deviated from, she will send word, and… well, you know the consequences of breaking our agreement here. I don't need to re-state them to you, I'm sure." She snickered, and Bulma was surprised the king didn't take her head off then and there.
"How old is this child?" the king asked, more curious than concerned. His eyes finally landed on the girl and Bulma looked away in disgust for a quick second.
"She will be turning thirteen in a few months."
Bulma gawked. So, the Warkinds did age the same as Earthlings… But thirteen years old… This was wrong in so many ways. She had to stop herself from barging into the room and screaming at all of them for their insanity.
"And my son will give her a child? Are you sure she can take that kind of physical stress? It would be a shame if she were to just… die."
"She is of age to be with child," the woman replied, skipping right over the king's insulting comment. "The likelihood of a Warkind and Saiyan's breeding to be successful is slightly lower than average, which is why I will be leaving her here with the previous queen. That is all you need to know. Once she is impregnated, we will take her, and the child's birth will not be of your concern anymore. We will inform you of its gender and nothing more, at first. Then, we will simply keep you updated on its growth and progress throughout the years. And if you have specific questions, we will decide how to answer your requests at the time when they occur."
"Anything else?" the king asked, his frown still in place. Bulma didn't know how the women weren't even a little frightened by him. She assumed that if they weren't bluffing about their ability to fight like the Saiyans, then maybe they had no reason to fear him… That would be something. She was a bit envious of them for a moment—being able to fight back the way she did. Bulma could only picture herself like that, fighting for her planet and her people. If only she'd had that power… But she'd never ask for something like this.
"I will take my leave of this planet shortly. I will report back to my beloved queen and if she has anymore demands, I will send them to my mother, who will relay the messages to you. All you have to worry about is following up on the agreements we made here today." And for the first time, the woman looked at Vegeta. She gave him an arrogant smile and nodded once at him. Bulma couldn't see if he responded or not with an expression, but he didn't move from his seat when she regarded him. "A shame I couldn't enjoy the meal," she added haughtily, lifting her nose and turning to walk out the door. She walked right by Maron and Chichi like they were lamp posts. At least, they could have passed for statues for the way they never moved.
Bulma stood frozen, still staring through the opening, even after the woman left the hall. Vegeta and his father both remained where they were, the king standing angrily, staring at the two who remained, and Vegeta in his seat. She couldn't tell what he was doing from this angle, or what his expression was. She couldn't even guess, either. And to be honest, she wasn't sure if he would actually see something wrong with this arrangement. He was a sick monster… She knew from three years of experience. But would he really do this to a thirteen year-old child?
"I'll be watching her," the elderly Warkind suddenly barked, and Bulma instantly recognized the woman's voice. It was the same one she'd heard in the hallway earlier in the day. She'd been the woman screaming at the child… But what had she been talking about, again? Bulma could only remember the screeching and the child getting upset. But then that child must have been the Warkind princess, too. She'd been so upset… Did she not want to do this? Was she being forced into this arrangement, as well? That was terrible…
"I'm sure you will," the king retorted, motioning for Chichi once again. And for some reason, Bulma's black-haired friend and Maron immediately began cleaning up the table. They hadn't even eaten any food. All that preparation and cooking had been for nothing. Bulma wondered if that happened a lot… She hoped everything wouldn't just get thrown out. Maybe she could have some of the leftovers…
"I will follow her to where you will impregnate her. I will examine the room to make sure that the Saiyan prince is truly the father. If you try anything—"
"Yes, yes. All-out war, correct?" the king sneered. He treated this old woman differently than the other. He wasn't concerned or wary anymore. These were people he didn't care for, and he clearly wasn't afraid to show it to their faces.
"Very well, we shall step outside. When the prince is ready, we will start tonight. He may take her to his room and bed her there as many times as she is capable. I will accompany them to inspect the chambers and the environment and I will leave once I have been satisfied with what I see there. No toys or machines are to be used on the princess. Is that understood? I've heard of your son's… fetishes in the bedroom, as I'm sure half the universe is aware of it, as well." The woman shot Vegeta a glare, but still, Bulma didn't see him move or hear him respond. And after a few more moments, she nodded, grabbed the princess by her upper arm, and dragged her out the door. The young girl didn't make a sound, and simply obeyed.
There was another brief moment of silence until Chichi and Maron finally cleaned up and left the room. Then he turned to Vegeta and smirked. "You'll do this. Give the young brat a half-Saiyan child. But once the old hag leaves," he said, "I want you to make the princess suffer for her people's insolence."
At that, Bulma finally saw Vegeta move, and she stood frozen, staring at the back of his head as he nodded to his father…
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"There's just no way," she breathed, once the four of them were back in the kitchen. Thankfully, Chichi was saving all the food. "I have to sleep in that room, you know! And if he even lays one fucking hand on that little girl, I'm going to kill him myself!"
"I… don't think you can…"
"She's not serious, Goku," Chichi sighed. "But she's right. He can't sleep with a girl who's barely even a teenager yet. They said she's turning thirteen soon, which means that is a twelve year-old girl that the old lady just offered up to one of the most ruthless people in the universe."
"Well, can't we have Goku do something about it?" Maron said, and Chichi shot her a glare. "I mean… we're all Earthlings… We can't stand up to anyone around here. And if we try anything, they'll just kill us. But Goku is a Saiyan, too. Can't you do something?" She eyed the tall man, while Chichi still glared at Maron. She didn't have anything to say in response, though.
"I… I can't go against the king. I'll be exiled, if not executed. I don't think there's anyone on this planet who can stand up to the king. Maybe no one in the universe. And even if there was, it's not like the king would just bow his head and listen. He's a ruthless fighter and a heartless ruler. He would die before listening to anything someone like me had to say. If he's made this decision… there's really nothing anyone can do about it."
"What about the prince?" Maron piped in. "Didn't you say you were friends when you were kids? Can't you try to talk to him?"
"That was a long time ago, and we weren't even that close. I'd be surprised if he even remembers me, now. I could try to talk to him, but I think I'd just get on his bad side and make more trouble for the princess. He's the same as his father. No one can talk to either of them without risking their heads."
"What about Bulma?" Maron asked, and her question was followed by a long period of silence. Chichi stopped wrapping the food and looked over at her. Maron just blinked a few times, staring at Bulma, and Goku stood there in thought. Bulma was silent, as well. And all of them were staring at her.
"What?" she suddenly spat out. "You're… joking, right? What about me?"
"Well… you and the prince have been… getting along recently, haven't you?"
"Getting along?"
"Bulma…," Chichi frowned. "You have to at least try… That girl… You know I'd do something if I could, but I can't. I just work in the kitchens and no one would ever listen to me. But you talk to the prince, and he has to care about you somewhere in that black heart of his, otherwise he wouldn't treat you the way that he does. You have to at least try to talk him out of this. If not because you think it'll work, then just try for the sake of that girl."
"But… if the king finds out that I tried to stop this from happening… He would kill me, too."
"That's why you have the best chance. Because Vegeta doesn't want you to get hurt, so he wouldn't tell the king if you tried to stop him."
Bulma held back a sarcastic laugh. "I can't believe you think that I could actually do something. Vegeta won't listen to me! He's never listened to me! Anything I tell him, he just does whatever he wants!"
"You have to try!" Chichi screamed, and more silence followed.
"And what am I supposed to even say to him?" Bulma frowned, lowering his eyes, "I can't just walk into the room and say, "Hey, Vegeta, don't you think it's terrible of you to force a little girl to sleep with you? Maybe you should just not do it, and then go tell your father that it's wrong, too. How does that sound?" Yea, right. Anything I say will get me killed."
"You could… negotiate with him," Maron said lowly.
"I have nothing to negotiate with, Maron," Bulma growled.
"Well… I mean… Everyone can see that he wants to sleep with you. You could take the girl's place—"
"Fuck off, Maron! I'm not sleeping with him!"
"Okay, maybe that's not the best way to go about this," Chichi shouted, getting between the two of them and holding her hands out. "Bulma," she said sternly, "We don't have time for this. That lady said that this is happening tonight. That means that they could already be in the room. We're not telling you to do anything. All I'm saying, is that you can at least try to talk him out of this. Say things he'll understand, like how a younger girl won't be as good as someone older and ask him if he wants you to call for a whore, instead. Something like that, even. It's better than nothing, okay?"
"Wait," Goku said, holding up one hand. "We're not even supposed to know any of this… Bulma can't just walk into the room an act like she'd been watching the entire meeting. She would have to pretend that she doesn't know what's going on."
"That makes it easier," Maron said, "Just distract him, then. If he wants you, then it shouldn't be too hard to keep his mind off of a girl who's butt and boobs aren't even fully grown in yet. She was flat as a pancake. He wouldn't even care about her if you showed him a little cleavage or something."
"That's disgusting." Bulma looked at the ground.
"Either way, we don't have time to stand around here and argue about it. Vegeta might even get suspicious if you don't go back to his room for a while, so you should get going. Goku, you needed to head back for the training house's night shift, right? And Maron, if you help me wrap this food, we can make some dinner trays really quick and then we're done. The sun is almost down now, anyway. And Bulma, I'll deliver the prince's dinner tray tonight, since you'll be preoccupied. I'll leave it in front of the door and I'll knock once, okay?"
Bulma nodded. And she watched as Goku gave Chichi a quick kiss, waved goodbye to Maron, and gave Bulma a small smile before heading out the door. Bulma stood there for a moment. She didn't even know what to say anymore. Chichi gave her a sympathetic smile, but she didn't have it in her to say anything else to her friend. So, Bulma just looked away as she turned and headed out the door.
This was crazy. Everything about this was crazy.
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Bulma paused for a moment as she passed by the medical wing, looking far down the hall. Was that where Chichi said the entrance to the dungeons was? Was there really an elaborate basement under the castle? And just how big was the castle? A part of her wanted to explore, but she knew she had something more important to do now, so she put her curiosity in the back of her mind. She would tend to that later.
She walked right up to the prince's chamber door and pulled out her key. But just before she could unlock the door, it swung open and the elderly Warkind stood in front of her with a nasty scowl.
"And who the hell are you?" she spat, nearly stomping on Bulma's foot as she pushed her way around her and out the door. "No whores are allowed in this room until the prince has done his duty to my people! How many times do I have to repeat myself?!"
"Uh…" Bulma stammered. "I—I'm not… a whore," she frowned. "I'm the prince's chambermaid."
"Let her in," she heard Vegeta's voice come from inside.
"She's not to touch the princess!" the old woman shouted, and Vegeta came around the corner and stood in the doorway, an inch from Bulma. Fortunately, he was ignoring her for now.
"She won't. She's here to clean and prepare dinner. That's all."
The old woman scoffed again before turning on her heel and storming off, probably to a guest room or something. Bulma immediately looked up at Vegeta. Before she could start talking to him about this… this issue… she would have to get him to talk about it first, because she wasn't supposed to know anything… And the last thing she wanted was for him to find out that she'd been spying on him.
She noticed the way he was looking at her now, eye's fixed on hers, and suddenly she remembered something. The last time he saw her, he'd kissed her again. She'd had time to watch him and do other things and talk to other people, but for the prince… Maybe he thought he'd been on her mind since earlier in the day. Or maybe she'd been on his mind…
He lifted an eyebrow at her and she crossed her arms.
"What?" she scowled, and he smirked at her. That was a good sign. So far, so good. But just as she tried coming up with something to start the conversation, the Warkind princess stepped lightly out of the prince's bedchambers. She wore a thin nightgown that dragged on the floor. She couldn't have been much taller than Bulma's shoulders. "Wh—Who's that?" Bulma asked, seeing as she'd have to be more direct than originally planned. The princess was here, in the prince's room. And by the sound of the old woman, Vegeta was expected to… do it… tonight.
"It doesn't matter," Vegeta finally replied, and before Bulma could ask another question to get him to talk, he grabbed the door and slammed it shut behind her. She jumped, and he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back into the wall beside the doorframe. Bulma gasped as the air was knocked out of her, but before she could even think, his mouth was on hers and he kissed her a bit harder than usual. His hands stayed on her shoulders, holding her against the wall.
Bulma had no idea what stirred inside of her, but she raised her hands and pummeled Vegeta with a flurry of punches to his chest. She knew he'd barely feel a thing, but her lack of enthusiasm was enough to make him pull back. She panted and groaned in his face.
"Will you cut it out?!" she screeched. "Stop kissing me! You can't do this anymore! Do you hear me?!"
"You don't tell me what I can and can't do, woman," he said flatly. The fact that his breathing was normal while she was breathing hard made her even more furious. How was he not affected by anything? That's why this needed to stop, anyway. He wasn't affected by her. He didn't care…
"Well, you still need to stop!" she shouted, not caring that she might have spit in his face a little when she raised her voice. "I have to do my job, and this… you doing this is very…" Distracting, is what she wanted to say. Prince Vegeta was far, far from unattractive, and when he did these things… It was distracting, at the least. But it was also a mix of things. She didn't know how to describe it, but if anything, it just confused her.
"What if I don't want to?" he asked, and she hated that he was being playful right now. Why was he always in a semi-good mood when she was trying to be serious?
He leaned forward and kissed her again, this time well aware that she was trying to push him back. She struggled, but he ignored her and forced his mouth to stay over hers. His lips were warm and his breath was cool…
"Stop!" she screamed, getting a hand free above his head and whacking his face. She didn't do any damage, but he frowned and pulled back again, staring at her. His expression was blank, and Bulma realized that the princess was watching them from the edge of the prince's bed. Her expression was blank, too.
"Why?" he suddenly asked, his playfulness gone in a heartbeat.
"Why what?"
"Why should I stop?" He quickly looked her up and down. "Your body reacts well to mine." He lifted an eyebrow, as if a lightbulb just went off in his head. "You don't actually want me to stop. And yet you fight me anyway. Why?"
"I…," Bulma trailed off.
"You started this," he said with a shrug, and she cursed herself for forcing a kiss on him to begin with. God, what was she thinking? "Which means that you wanted it. And you still do. So, stop fighting me."
"I can't…" Bulma turned her head away when he leaned forward again. He nuzzled his mouth into her hair instead and she squeezed her eyes shut.
"Why not?" he whispered, making her nearly shiver. She couldn't think of anything to say, but now his hands were roaming around her waist and she had to think of something or he'd think her silence was submission. She forced her eyes open and pushed against him again. Harder, this time.
"Because this means nothing to you!" she shouted, twisting and turning to break free. She almost had it for a second, but he grabbed her shoulders again and held her in place. "And that's not who I am, Vegeta! I'm not going to be another one of your nighttime prostitutes! I'm not someone you can just mess around with! If you want to play around with someone, there are plenty of other women in the castle that would love to do… whatever it is you like to do, okay?!"
He was silent for a moment, but then he smirked. "Right now, I don't want someone else."
"I really don't care what you want," Bulma said, looking away again. "I'm not going to be another conquest for you. I'm not going to sleep with you and then go back to changing your sheets and setting your table. I'm not just some… some convenience!" She gathered herself together. Shouting wasn't going to help her here. "Listen… you just think that you want to do this because I spend a lot of time here… But the thing is, you just want someone. It doesn't matter who it is. You mind has just… latched onto what's right in front of you. That's it. So, if you need that kind of… relief… then there are plenty of women I can call for you. That's part of my job, and I don't mind doing that. Not at all. But you can't keep thrusting your unchecked needs onto me because I'm here all the time. Okay?"
His face had turned sour. He wasn't smirking. He wasn't even frowning. In fact, he seemed a bit disgusted with her. And the strangest part was that it was what she thought she'd wanted. This was the reaction she'd been waiting for, and yet, for some reason... it hurt. Although it was better for her if he looked at her this way, she found herself wishing that he'd stop.
"Vegeta…," she said with a sigh, but when she opened her mouth to continue, there was nothing else she could say.
There were thoughts and feeling behind her, but nothing came out from between her parted lips. Whatever she thought she wanted to say, she couldn't think of it, and she certainly wasn't saying anything anytime soon. Her mind was cluttered with so many different things. This was just the frosting on the cake.
"Who's that?" she asked, pointing to the princess again. Even though the situation took a strange turn, she still had a job to do, and Chichi would be furious with her if she didn't try harder than she was.
"Why do you care?" Vegeta sneered, finally releasing her and walking over towards his bed. Bulma's mind raced. What if he asked her to leave them alone? What if she had to reveal that she knew everything so that she could try and stop him.
"I… don't. I'm just wondering why there's a girl in your room. Am I going to have to start bringing an extra plate to the table? How long is she staying? Are you related or something?"
"Stop babbling, woman," he said flatly, turning away from her. He was going towards the bed again. It looked like he was about to close the double doors. "This is no concern of yours."
"Vegeta!" Bulma shouted, and he paused to turn and look at her again. And she knew this was her last chance. If she didn't stop him here, he would close the doors and she would be separated from the princess. There would be nothing left for her to do.
Without thinking, she walked right up to him and kissed him. Hard. She placed her hands on the sides of his arms and did her best not to think too much about what she was doing. She stood on her tip toes for leverage and pushed herself into him. She shoved her chest into his, just like she'd seen the whores usually do when they first arrived to greet him.
"What was that about not wanting to be… convenient?" he asked, pushing her back slightly. She was relieved to find his smirk back on his face. "Tell me what you want, woman."
"I want…" She trailed off, searching her mind for an acceptable answer. She wanted him to tell her about this girl. She wanted him to let her go free, back to her planet. She wanted him to tell her… what the hell was going on. "I want… I want you… to stop confusing me," she whispered. It was pitiful, she thought—the way she acted around him recently. She felt like a child. He turned her into some naïve, jumbled person, and she didn't like it at all. She hated feeling like she had no control, not even of herself.
"You're confused because you're lying," he replied. "And you're trying so hard to be truthful to your lies that you're getting confused by the truth, and aggravated because you can't keep up with what you've been saying and thinking, and the difference between the two."
"I have… no idea what that means," Bulma frowned.
"First of all," he said, leaning back towards her and brushing his lips on hers. She shivered, and then mentally slapped herself for having no control. "You enjoy this." He smirked, breaking them apart but keeping his face close to hers. "Stop telling yourself that you don't want it. And second of all, maybe you don't know this, but Earthling females give off a very unique and natural aroma. You, particularly, have a very strong scent to you."
"W-What does that have to do with—"
"Did you really think you could stand that close to me, with no barrier between us, and I wouldn't notice you hiding at my back?"
"I… I don't know what you're—"
"You were there. With the kitchen wench and Kakarot. You listened to everything, so you know exactly who the Warkind princess is. And your sentimental Earthling morals are probably screaming at you right now, aren't they? Otherwise, you wouldn't be trying so hard to get me to talk about her."
Bulma just frowned, not caring very much that he knew the whole time. "Then you know you can't do what they want you to."
"I do whatever I want, woman. You know that."
"I won't let you, then."
His smirk was back. He gave her a try-me look as he crossed his arms lightly across his chest. Then he looked her up and down, slowly, taking in all of her with his eyes. She flushed.
"Lucky for you and your worthless morals, I don't want young females. I much prefer…" He continued looking at her and she wanted to slap him for it. But if anything, she was happy his attention was on her instead. And for once in her life, she was glad she had some kind of curve to her body. If she'd been flat, maybe he would have seen her as younger anyway, and less appealing… She shook her head. Why would she be thinking about something so stupid right now?
"Yea, I've seen what you prefer," she suddenly said, regretfully remembering all the big-breasted, curvaceous, model-status women that came to him almost every day.
"You," Vegeta said, suddenly motioning to the princess. He moved his hand out of the bedchambers and motioned for her. "Step out here and wait until I tell you otherwise."
The princess obeyed without question, stepping down out of the bedchambers and walking over to the table. She turned and faced Vegeta, but he had his back to her, facing Bulma instead, still wearing that devilish smirk.
"Maybe I'll share my bed with you tonight," he said, waving for her to go ahead of him.
"Oh, no you don't," she grumbled, "I'm not getting in there with you. Besides, Chichi said she'd deliver your meal in a few minutes and that was a few minutes ago, so it should be here any second now. You're going to eat, and then go train, or do whatever it is you do after you have dinner. Hopefully, I will be fast asleep by the time you get back. And if you wake me up, I'm going to be very angry. You hear me?"
Vegeta lifted a curious eyebrow, giving her a strange look. Bulma frowned again, not sure how to react. She'd never seen him look at her this way before. In fact, she'd never seen this expression on him ever. She couldn't figure out what it was, either. A mix of amusement and… pride? She couldn't put her finger on it, but again, she was just glad he wasn't scowling.
"I'm going out now, then," he said, turning for the door without another word. Bulma's jaw almost dropped at his obedience. "Have my dinner laid out by the time I get back." She nodded. "And, woman… If you're not asleep by the time I get back…" He looked over his shoulder as he opened the door and gave her another smirk, this one difference from the others—hiding something behind his words.
"Oh, don't worry. I'll be fast asleep," she shot back, just before he closed the door behind him. "I've had a long day."