Tempy's notes: Er, I just figured out how to switch the anonymous review thingy on. So, I now accept anonymous reviews. Yay!

Anyway, the third chapter. It's longer than the previous two.

I'm really glad that people are enjoying this (a shoutout to 22!). :-D

MindyKinamoto: I get plenty of viewers, but my anonymous review thing was off. I don't really mind not getting a lot of reviews though. No one ever really starts off getting a lot (or so I've been told). I was thinking about putting that summary up. Instead, I've just posted "Full Summary Inside."

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z. All characters rightfully belong to Akira Toriyama, my sensei and inspiration.

Summary: AU. After Videl accidentally steals a flower from the Ox King's garden, she finds herself in a rather peculiar predicament. She is engaged to his grandson— and she has no idea what he looks like! Would you go beyond the ends of the earth for the one you loved?

Red Roses

By The Temptress Rises

Chapitre III

Daphne

"Gohan! Gohan!" a perky voice cried as its owner bounced on my bed in his attempt to wake me. I knew, from experience, if I didn't acknowledge his presence, he would keep it up for over ten minutes.

"Yes, Goten?" I managed to grumble out in my normal morning slur.

"Mama says that it's time to wake up because… because… because… because… Breakfast!" the boy said, landing on my arm. I groaned. He wasn't heavy, he just landed on a nerve. If you've never had that done to you, it's quite the painful experience.

"I'm up! I'm up." It came out sounding like "Immup! Immup."

I tossed the blankets aside and swung my legs off the side of my bed. I flinched at the lack of heat of the stone floor. Goten rolled into my lap as I rubbed my eyes of any gunk that collected there while I was asleep.

"You better hurry up, she was having a temper tan… trantr… tantrumen." he said, struggling with the word.

"Tantrum, Goten. Tantrum. Now, off. You said I had to hurry."

He did and left while I dressed for the day ahead. I found him rocking back and forth on his heels, singing a nursery rhyme our mother used to sing to us.

"Red dragonflies,Red dragonflies,On the rocks gently they stop; On the water gently they stop; In the breeze gently they stop."

I smiled, remembering when I used to sing it. It had still been when our father was alive, before Goten. I shook my head, clearing my mind of the bad memories. It had been a little over six years ago but it was still on the back of my mind.

"Surprised you didn't go down before me." I told him.

"Mama said I couldn't go back down without you." he said, then he whispered, "I'm afraid that she'll make me… study."

I snickered. Our mother wanted us both to be scholars. It was, apparently, necessary if you were a prince. Yes, I am sadly a prince. My life involves countless hours learning how to count and categorize, speaking in foreign tongues, playing musical instruments, reading ancient texts, and understanding the ways of the court. Somehow, I had extra time in the day to spar with my family's friend, a silent and violent man who was heir to the throne of his family's kingdom, when he visits. He managed to send me flat on my behind every time. When he's not here, I'll practice with my brother or the few guards we have.

Our mother, a proud and kind woman who is not afraid to discipline her children, dislikes the fact that my brother and I fight. Our father used to and it reminds her of him. We try not to in front of her, but for the most part she doesn't go near the practice grounds.

She makes up for the fact that our father isn't there by cooking. She's always cooking. It's because my brother and I eat a lot. Not just "a lot" as in "high metabolism a lot," I mean "a lot" as is "the meal of forty men a lot." It's freakish, I know. You see, my brother and I aren't exactly human. We're half; the other part is called Saiyan. Saiyans eat a lot. They're programmed to fight, so we need a lot to eat.

So, when I came downstairs and found my mother in the kitchen, the table set for an army, and my grandfather waiting patiently, I though that it was going to be a normal day.

"Morning." I said, kissing my mother on her cheek as she finished the eggs.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." she hummed. "Did you wash your hands and face?"

"Yes, mom."

"Comb your hair?"

"It's always messy! No matter what I do, it won't lay flat!"

"I just asked if you combed it and I see that you didn't. Don't waste time right now going all the way back to your room, breakfast is ready. You can fix your hair after we eat."

"Oh-kay then."

"Sit down." she said, spooning the eggs into a bowl. "Goten, did you wash your hands?"

"Uh, yes, mama." he lied.

She rolled her eyes.

"Go wash them."

"Aw!" he groaned sliding off his chair and over to the water basin in the corner. He grumbled the whole way there, through his whole wash, and the whole way back.

"Thank you." our mom said, pecking him on the cheek.

He rubbed it off with the back of his hand in the way a child does when they were disgusted. The rest of us chuckled to ourselves.

Our mom sat down in her chair and we said our breakfast prayer in unison.

"God bless!"

And soon, my brother and I we shoveling food from plates, bowls, and platters to our personal plates and into our mouths. It didn't take long for us to eat, maybe fifteen minutes at the most. We left the table crumb free. Nothing was left uneaten.

I patted my stomach in content.

A wrap on the door caught our attention.

"Uh, Your Highnesses?" said a voice.

"Yes?" our mother asked, sitting up straighter. "Come in."

"There are foreigners in our garden. We don't recognize what court they're from."

"Gohan, would you mind checking them out?"

"Uh, sure." I said, blinking. My mother never sent me to do something like this. Then again, they were foreigners who probably spoke a different language than that of our small country's. Our small collection of guards may know how to read and how to work mathematical equations, but they didn't speak any other language.

I dusted myself off and nodded to the guard.

"Let's go." I said, grabbing his wrist and another guard's.

We found the small group in a shady grove, watering their horses. They were a small party; a tall man with many muscles, a handful of guards, two middle-aged women, an older woman, and a small, young woman.

They appeared to nothing out of the ordinary. They were just passing through. We could only act if they did something illegal.

We crouched up a hill, hidden by foliage, watching them silently.

My eyes studied them. The tall man was obviously important. The way that he carried himself, his clothes, and his mannerisms told me that. The two middle aged women were talking to themselves, the older woman, and the younger woman. They seemed to be discussing something that I couldn't hear. The older woman was quite obviously a nursemaid to the younger woman. Now, it was this younger woman that caught my eye.

I could tell from my position that she was around my age, maybe a year younger, and I could see that she was rather pretty. She was the daughter of the tall man, anyone would be able to see that. She wasn't full of herself, but she didn't lack confidence. She reminded me of a nymph from a myth. I couldn't quite recall the name of this particular nymph or the story, but there was quite a bit resemblance.

My eyes trailed her every move. For some time, she sat debating something but obviously got annoyed and started walking around. She meandered over to a patch of flowers and inhaled their scent.

I sniffed upon instinct. My mind remembered a ghost of a scent of those exact flowers. I smiled.

And then, she plucked one.

Tempy's endnotes: So, I wanted to get this up earlier but I couldn't. :-P Oh well. Sorry if there is spelling or grammar mistakes or something. I didn't send this to iOc like a usually do. I'll more than likely get her to look it over and then repost this with any corrections.

Ah, I need sleep. Goodnight. Zzzz…