Six Years Later…..
Bulma had been working as a drudge servant for as long as she could remember. Waking up early, catching a quick bath, and setting to scrub the floors, mopping them, cleaning the walls, polishing the wood, among other chores, were her daily routine as a slave.
The six years in that labor had taken their toll. Sleep and rest were limited and eating properly was almost prohibited. She was skinny, unhealthy and abnormally weak. But her fragile body did not even touch her strong and determined character. Her mouth was twice as big and loose as her own physique (symbolically speaking, of course). But that did nothing to help the situation. The other young servants and slaves hated her and she was usually the target of their cruelty. She became almost desensitized to hits and attacks. That's how much she was beaten. She was introverted, but defended herself with the wit of an owl, and that, if nothing else, was enough to keep her going and hope for a better life, for she knew that some way or the other she would somehow manage to leave the festered place in which she lived her pathetic life.
She'd been scrubbing the floor in the anteroom of the court, as usual. She picked up her bucket, with much difficulty, and placed it at another spot, when someone bumped into her, spilling the bucket and making a sopping mess.
"Watch where you're going, dumbass," she muttered angrily. After so much work, she had to start all over.
"What? Well, how dare you, you useless slave!" the mighty prince shouted furiously. His boots had gotten wet, "look at what you did. I should make you dry my boots with your disgusting hair!"
"And you're calling me useless. But you royal people always have to depend on others to do your work. Bet you have an ass slave who cleans your ass every time you shit," Bulma said, shaking her head.
In seconds, she found herself pinned against the wall, face to face with a very angry prince. She noticed two of his friends stood behind him, eyebrows raised.
"My father might let you get away with your disrespect and your loose tongue, but I assure you I am not my father and I am by far less compassionate. So you better measure your words...and measure them well, because I dont take crap from little ugly girls like you that need a good beating," Vegeta said contemptuously. Bulma stared at him through narrowed eyes. She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but she found herself incredibly weak to his deadly grip. She wondered how he was so strong and he was probably just a few years older than she was. He looked at her with disgust, and that angered her a lot.
As he opened his mouth to insult her even more, she spat at him, a big puddle of 11-year-old saliva landing somewhere between his mouth and his lower-right cheek. He gasped and let go of her as he wiped his face, disgusted.
"How dare you spit at the prince like that?" one of his friends exclaimed indignantly.
"You're gonna pay for that, you damn brat," the other one said shaking his head.
"You ugly, scrawny little thing. You'll pay for that!!" Vegeta yelled. Bulma smartly took this as her cue to run as fast as she could and get away from him while he was still recovering from his grossed-outness. (made up word, I know).
"Hey! You come back here!" one of the prince's sidekicks yelled. Vegeta stopped him and waved him off, "dont worry about her now, we got training to do. But let me bump into her one more time and I swear that little brat will cry like the baby she was when her mother gave birth to her. In fact, she'll be seeing from me later on."
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Bulma was relieved that her chores were finished for the day. Although the earlier encounter with the prince had delayed her from finishing earlier, she was glad she was finally done and would be able to take a quick bath and go to sleep.
Her plans were quickly ruined as Staela's yelling vibrations traveled to her eardrums.
"Celeste! You useless dirt! How dare you do this to me? You come over here right now!" she yelled.
"Yes?" Bulma bowed her head in respect but her eyes showed otherwise.
"The king wants to see me and you. I am being held responsible for your rude actions!" Staela shrieked.
"I didnt do anything to the king," Bulma defended.
"The complaint came from the prince."
"He insulted me first and made me start scrubbing the floor all over!" Bulma justified herself.
Staela grabbed Bulma's arm violently and furiously made her way to the throne.
"Well, I knew I would hear from you soon enough," the king said as Staela entered with Bulma at her side.
"Well, your majesty...I have been-'', Staela started, flattered that she had the king's attention.
"Not you. The kid," the king cut in. Staela sucked in her breath and her face turned red.
"Oh, yes, of course," she muttered apologetically.
The prince glared at the blue-haired girl who seemed to find something more interesting in the ceiling than in the king's room. She deliberately showed that she was ignoring the king, a disrespect worthy of execution.
"Dumb girl," Vegeta thought.
The king rolled his eyes, "Look, I have better things to do right now than threaten a useless child like you. But my son thinks it's important for you to be punished. He's right, you know. You're a slave and you're starting to cause a lot of talk amongst the courtroom members and everyone in the palace whenever you open your filthy mouth."
"Father, she should be taken to the dungeons," Vegeta suggested, glaring at Bulma.
"Why dont you go to your own dungeon, you filthy bitch!" Bulma cursed.
"I will not allow such language in my throne room!" the king shouted angrily as he stood up.
"Like you have such a clean mouth, your majesty," Bulma said sarcastically. Staela gasped.
"You're pushing your luck, brat," the king said dangerously.
"Let me kill her, father," Vegeta said, drawing his sword. The king stopped him.
"No, son. Death is the freedom of the slave," he said. "No food for her and no bed. Let her eat her words and find some confort in her shamelessness."
Bulma almost gasped. Sure, she could do without the bed. But no food? She was going to die for sure now. Although she expected a worse punishment. She stuck her tongue out at the prince, who clenched his fists in annoyance. He was starting to really hate the little slave girl. No one had ever challenged the king, the royal family and the whole race the way she did. And how dare she? A damn slave!
The king ordered Staela to leave and to take the child with her.
Vegeta pointed at Bulma menacingly, "This is not over. You will regret the day you spat in my face."
"And wish I could erase the retarded look on your face when I did?" Bulma laughed, "I dont think so, princey."
Vegeta narrowed his eyes as he saw her being grabbed by Staela and exited the room.
The king shook his head, "I dont know why you insisted on wasting my time, Vegeta. I dont have time to take care of your childish affairs."
"They are not childish, father. Dont you understand? She disrespects us, then all the slaves will think it's ok and they'll starft doing the same until we lose our edge."
The king smirked, "You know, I can only imagine what a wicked woman she'll grow up to be. Had she not been a slave or human, I would think you were a perfect match. She's by far more sayajin than many girls around here."
"You're full of it," Vegeta muttered as he stood up and left.
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Bulma stood in the garden sprinkilng the different kinds of flowers. It wasnt her job to do so, but whenever she finished her chores earlier than usual, she liked to go into the beautiful garden and tend to the flowers. Hoping, of course, that the queen didnt walk in- for it belonged to her- and find her near her precious flowers. She had to admit, the last few days, the flowers had grown a lot and looked livelier and healthier.
The sun beat down heavily on her head and sweat poured down; she felt incredibly dizzy. Summer season was almost over, but the sun had to send yet, a few of its last scorching rays. Plus, she hadnt eaten anything for almost one whole month. She survived on water, which she sometimes drank from the water buckets she got before she started cleaning.
I wish I could eat something good and delicious and yummy, Bulma thought wistfully. But her thoughts were interrupted as she heard steps approaching. She looked around frantically for an exit to escape, but everything was moving around in circles.
"Who's there?" a voice demanded.
Bulma's heart stopped for a moment. She saw a figure, dressed in royal blue, and just before it approached her, she passed out.
Queen Bella had noticed how her flowers had grown remarkably over the last weeks, but she couldnt explain how if she had forgotten to sprinkle them with water, especially now in the heat. She concluded that someone must have been doing something to preserve the beautiful garden; although whoever it was was running a risk every day they came in because it was royal property and permission to eneter was only granted to a select few. Today, she wondered who had entered the garden. She ran as she saw a young girl collapse.
"So it's you," she muttered as she looked at the fragile girl lying before her, "you're the one who's been taking care of my garden. Poor thing. Why, this heat is unbearable! It's no wonder that she fainted," the queen exclaimed as she felt the heat beating down on her.
She put her hand on the girl's forehead and tried to shake her up.
"Hello, come on...wake up," she said softly.
Bulma groaned as she opened her eyes painfully, "F-f-food," she managed to speak out before passing out once again.
The queen gasped, "This child is starving, my kami! Guards! Help me bring this child inside!"