Standing just outside her father's bedroom, Bulma cracked her knuckles nervously. She had been pondering the matter all through dinner, and she'd made a decision. Bulma was going to tell her father about Yamcha.
Yes, her father was weak. But he would want her to be happy, wouldn't he? Surely this news wouldn't cause him too much stress.
"Daddy," She called trepidatiously through the door. "Can I come in?"
A cough sounded from the other side of the door. A moment later it swung open, and there stood Maron glaring at the Princess. "Your father needs his rest," She said, somewhat too irritably, and Bulma shook her head. "He's my father, and I wish to speak with him."
Without another word strolled Bulma into the room, her head held high with indignance. Maron followed slowly, much to the Princess' chagrin. She'd been hoping to be able to speak in private. Perhaps she wouldn't mention Yamcha, after all. Not with Maron there…
"Daddy?" Bulma whispered again. "How are you feeling?"
King Briefs lay in his bed, his feet covered with a soft blanket. "I've had better days," He tried to laugh, his voice raspy. "But I held it together in front of the guests, that's what is most important."
Princess Bulma glanced hesitantly at Maron, who was standing in the corner. She looked back to her father, who was looking at her expectantly. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course sweetheart," King Briefs replied. "Come closer, honey."
"I'm going to get his medicine." Maron announced. "Princess, give him some water."
"Yes, ma'am." Bulma rolled her eyes, wondering how Maron felt entitled enough to give her orders. But this was about her father, and she picked up the glass off the bedside table.
"That's better!" King Briefs smacked his lips. "My throat is killing me from all this evening's chatter, dear."
"I'll try not to keep you, then." Princess Bulma fidgeted with her hands. Now that Maron was gone, she actually had a chance. "Daddy… Would you… Would you force me to marry a man I didn't love?" So terrified of the answer, a lump formed in her throat, and tears threatened her eyes.
"Of course not!" King Briefs replied with such urgency that he began to cough again. Bulma put a hand to his forehead, disbelief at his quick response. "You shall marry whichever man you choose. I will not force you into a marriage."
King Briefs had never wanted an arranged marriage for his daughter. He himself had been marrried by pre-determined plan, and he was very lucky to have had such a loving relationship with his dearly departed wife, Bunny. If Princess Bulma could experience just a bit of what that type of life was like, he would be at peace.
"But why do you ask this so suddenly?" King Briefs asked. And then, before the Princess had a chance to respond, in walked Maron with the vile of cough syrup.
"Sweetheart," King Briefs said. "Let us finish this conversation in the morning, when I am of sound mind."
'Yes, Daddy…."
Princess Bulma was strolling to her room, so happy with the revelation that she hardly paid attention to her surroundings. Her father didn't believe in arranged marriage! He wouldn't force her to marry anyone she didn't love! Perhaps this would mean that he would accept her love of a captain, after all.
It was because of these gleeful thoughts that she didn't notice Prince Vegeta, who had been pacing about the corridors, thinking over the conversation he'd had with his own Father. And Vegeta was so beside himself with this pondering that he hadn't noticed the Princess, either. Not until a familiar floral scent crossed his nose.
He looked up just in time to see her disappear around the corner.
What a good chance to strike a conversation, to feel her out. To confirm if his impression of her were accurate. Following behind, Prince Vegeta intended to speak her name when he was within reasonable distance. He turned the corner, just as she had, and her silhouette caught his breath. Two meters ahead she walked, just as gracefully as she'd entered the hall.
Without realizing it, Vegeta was picturing her walking like that through his palace's corridors. Would her steps remain just as soft? Would she be happy in a new place? What kind of Queen would she grow to be, whether it was beside Vegeta or someone else?
What was he doing?! Prince Vegeta looked down to his feet, willing the thoughts away. How could he be having ideas like this when he'd been so irritated about being here just hours earlier?
"There you are." Maron's voice caught the Prince's attention. Quickly he backed into the shadows, not wanting to think about how strange it would look if the Princess became aware of his presence now.
Bulma turned to see Maron marching down a perpendicular hall. Soon she was entering the same corridor, and without warning Maron forcefully grabbed the Princess' arm. "This way. Now."
Vegeta thought to step in, to say something about how inappropriately Maron was treated her Princess, but he couldn't yet decide if it was worth revealing himself.
"Get in there, you fiend!" Maron snapped. A moment later she was shoving the Princess into her quarters. Okay, that really was going too far. Prince Vegeta bit his lip, a bead of sweat forming at his forehead. Would it do to intervene? Would this cause conflict between his planet and Earth? He stood, listening for any sound of a struggle. And when none came after several minutes, he decided things must have been more civil than they appeared - despite how he didn't approve of her handling. And with that, the Prince began his walk back to his room.
…Inside the room Bulma stumbled. She nearly fell of her bed before catching herself, turning to see Maron closing the door. "What are you-"
"I heard what you told your father!" Maron hissed. "How could you imply such a thing?!"
"I- I-"
"You what? Wish to be the death of your King?"
"He isn't my King! He's my Dad! And I'm in love! In love with a naval officer named Yamcha. I want to marry him!"
THWACK!
Palming her cheek, Bulma stared in awe. Maron had slapped her. Had actually slapped her! Where was this all coming from?
"How long has this been going on?" Maron demanded.
In that moment the Princess felt genuine fear, confined behind the walls of this soundproofed room. The look in Maron's eyes was almost feral, and she couldn't understand why it would matter so much to her father's advisor.
"It's… It's been a few months," She mouthed… "I knew Daddy wouldn't approve, especially after Mommy's death…"
THWACK!
Another slap, on the opposite cheek. Bulma let out a cry and fell back on her bed.
"You lying little fiend! Keeping such a thing from your own father! And a naval officer!? You are the Princess of this planet, and you became involved with a poor naval officer?
"I love him!" Bulma yelled. The shock was subsiding, and anger was taking it's place. "He loves me!"
"Did you sleep with him?!" Maron demanded.
" What ?"
"Are you still a virgin, you Idiot girl!?"
"Not that it's any of your business!" Bulma cried, angry tears threatening her reddened cheeks. "But I am! We want to marry before we-"
Maron raised her hand to slap the Princess once more, but she paused when she saw Bulma flinch. Perhaps violence wouldn't be the resolution to this predicament. No, force wouldn't do. "You love a mere peasant when you could have anyone you want, including Prince Vegeta."
"Prince Vegeta?!" The Princess would have laughed if she wasn't so stunned by all that was happening. "He was quite nice this evening, but-"
"You will not talk to your father about this naval officer, understood?
"But-"
"You think your father would approve of you marrying a poor peasant? He intends you to marry any Prince you want, not a lower class."
"But-"
"You really want to be the death of him with news such as this?!" She hissed. "You want to cause him that type of stress in his ailment?!"
"No!" The Princess howled. Would it really cause that much pain? Was this why Maron was so beside herself with unwarranted rage?
"Your duty as Princess is to keep your father content." Maron's voice softened. "Don't you think?"
"I love my Daddy," The Princess whispered. Tears started to stream down her cheeks. "I would never do anything to hurt him."
"Good girl." Maron sighed. She backed away from the Princess calmly, wiping her swelling hands on her skirt. "Then you shall treat our guests with the utmost respect while they are here, understand? Your Father is worried enough as it is about forming an alliance with the saiyans."
"Daddy.." Bulma sniffled. The thought of doing anything to harm her father, especially while he was so sick, it was heartbreaking. And she'd almost done it before Maron had walked into the King's room. Oh, Bulma was ashamed. She'd almost done it to her dad…
"Dry your eyes, you silly girl." Maron said. Her voice almost sounded playful now. "You have not done anything to burden your father yet. We shall pretend this conversation never happened, for he doesn't need to know."
That evening, Maron met with Roshi, one the palace's servants, in the grand hall. Though she had no authority over him, Roshi was helplessly in love with her, and she knew he'd do any bidding she asked. "Fetch me Yamcha." She told him. "That naval officer that was just here during the banquet."
"He isn't far, I just saw him in the gardens."
Gardens. Maron scowled. He was probably waiting for the Princess to sneak out to him.
"Fetch him, now."
Moments later Yamcha came strolling into the hall, voluntarily, with Roshi by his side. "I heard you were looking for me?" He sounded flabbergasted. "Is everything alright?"
"Captain, I asked for your visitation. The Princess has confided in me about you."
"She did ?" His eyes widened. They hadn't spoken about this at all during their earlier meeting. Where was this coming from?
"Well?" Maron asked.
"Well, what?"
"Is it true? You've been carrying a secret relationship with the Earth's sacred Princess?"
It was then that Yamcha turned. He realized that the knights, which he thought was just armor on display, were moving closer to him. There were men in those suits.
"I love her," Yamcha said. The knights inched closer still. "I would marry her on this spot if I could."
"Unfortunately, that puts you at a disadvantage." Maron huffed. "Get him, boys!"
Yamcha tried to yell in defiance but a gag was shoved in his mouth. He bit down on it, trying to wrestle his arms free as they were forced behind his back.
"Take him to the dungeons." Maron said. "By the power invested in me by the King himself, you are under arrest for seducing the Princess."
No, Yamcha would have shouted if he could have. His feet dragged on the porcelain floors as the knights began pulling him away. Why had Bulma done this? Why didn't she just choose to run away with him?!
"What will happen to him?" Roshi asked, agast. He hadn't been expecting any of the events that just unfolded. Even the knights were answering to Maron's beckoning, and he knew it was because they were all jealous of the Princess' affections.
"He's to be sent to a distant planet after the wedding. Keep him quiet down there."
"Wedding?"
"No concern of yours, that is confidential. Now I have one more task to ask of you,"
…And so Roshi went, fetching the first prostitute he could find on the streets that would accept his money. Gifting her with bread and wine, she had a shower and a peaceful rest in one of the guest chambers that night.
The following morning the Princess woke with a knock at her door. She rubbed away the tears that were still in her eyes from the night before. "Come in," She called, sitting up in bed.
That was when Maron entered with a stranger with bushy brown hair.
"I apologize for my rash reaction last night," Maron curtsied to the Princess. "And I apologize if I have woken you."
"No matter," Bulma said, kicking her legs off the side of the bed. "What is the matter? Who is this, Maron?"
"One of the reasons I was so upset last night." Maron nodded to the stranger. "Charlese, introduce yourself."
"Princess Bulma," Charlese bowed. "I am Charlese… Yamcha's wife."
"Wife?" It wasn't registering with her, surely she hadn't heard right.
"Yes, his wife." Chelese stood again. "And I have recently found that I am pregnant with our first child. I've come to beg you not to take my husband from me."
"First child?"
Everything was blurring again. The Princess' head was spinning. Surely Yamcha wasn't actually married, with a child on the way. He was supposed to have wanted to marry her! They were supposed to be saving themselves for their wedding night!
"Many of us know Charlese, who has attended meetings in the past." Maron said matter-of-factly. "I am so sorry, Princess, but I knew you wouldn't believe it unless she told you herself."
"Please," Charlese dropped to her knees again. "I love my husband so. Don't take him from me, Princess, you could have anybody. I am just a simple peasant-"
"You can have him." Shaking, Bulma backed into her bed. She put a quivering hand to her mouth, fighting the urge to scream in hurt rage. "Y-You- You"
"I am so sorry, Princess." Maron repeated.
"I don't care!" Bulma howled. Tears flowed down her cheeks as fists flew to her side. "Secrecy would have been convenient then, wouldn't it?"
Maron and Charlese watched silently as the Princess furiously wiped at her eyes. "I shall not cry. I won't cry!" She howled. "I'm just so angry and confused. I'm sorry, but this will take me time to process."
"I understand," Maron bowed. "Take all of your time, I will let the King know you are feeling under the weather."
"Thank you, Maron… And thank you, Charlese, for your honesty."
Prince Vegeta was wondering what the King's advisor could want from him. She'd came knocking at his door shortly after he finished bathing and getting dressed. Perhaps it was because she was on his mind a lot lately, but he couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with the Princess.
He was right.
"I wanted to see you, Prince." She bowed. "For I thought it necessary to give you a head's up. There was talk of a betroval last night."
"With whom?" The Prince demanded.
"Prince Vegeta, please, I am merely a messenger trying to let you know." Maron bowed once more. "King Briefs is interested in offering the Princess for marriage in exchange for an alliance."
Vegeta couldn't help but the raise his eyebrows, sure that the surprise was obvious on his face. Was this a coincidence? Had the King heard the Prince's conversation with his father?
"Princess Bulma has been primed her entire life to become an elegant queen of honor," Maron continued. "She would make a strong Queen, and a loyal wife."
"And does she know about this?" The Prince asked.
"No. I do not believe so."
"Well, too bad." Prince Vegeta turned his back to Maron, a lump in his stomach. "I am the Prince of an ancient warrior race. Any woman would be glad to have me. I shall not force myself upon an unwilling-"
"She isn't unwilling, sire." Maron cut in, not caring that she was interrupting royalty. "Just unaware."
"Unaware."
"Yes. If you desire her, then let her know. It won't be long before she accepts your proposal."
"What proposal, Woman? I haven't said anything about proposing to that girl." But Vegeta was in deeper than he realized. The idea of King Briefs being agreeable to a union was making his heart pound.
"Let's stop playing games, shall we? Prince Vegeta. You desire the Princess, and she will be by your side. That is - if your army protects my planet."
"I will think on this," Prince Vegeta snapped. "That is all."
"And that is all I wished of you," Maron replied. "Some extra time to consider matters before the King mentions it himself."
"Thank you, then." Vegeta stiffened. "If that is all, I shall be going for my breakfast."
Breakfast went uneventfully, considering all of the treason occuring behind the scenes. It wasn't until nearly the end of his meal that the Princess made her appearance, much to King Brief's frustrated delight. "Where've you been?" He asked. "We were waiting for you all through the meal!"
"I had some…" The Princess shuddered, trying to think of a valid excuse to give to her father on her tardiness. Especially when there were guests. Finally she closed her eyes and curtsied. "Father, please forgive me. I wasn't feeling well this morning."
"Not sick, are you?"
"No, just quite tired." The Princess drifted to her seat, which was just to the side of the Prince. He could smell her again - that floral wave that came with her wherever she went. The Prince felt his heart starting to beat faster, side-eying her as she helped herself to a serving of fruit.
And then, when both of the Kings were deep into a conversation, the Princess decided to finally acknowledge the Prince. She'd felt his eyes on her all through her meal.
"I beg your pardon, but what is wrong?" The Princess asked.
"I-" Prince Vegeta seemed startled that she'd actually addressed him. He said the first thing that came to mind. "I've never seen a woman delight herself so much with eating an orange."
"Oh, silly Prince. Do they not have oranges on your planet?" She replied, "This is my favorite fruit. It's always been a comfort when I am feeling sad."
"And are you sad now?" The Prince raised a brow.
"Perhaps…"
"And why would you feel sad, Princess? You have everything you could possibly want."
Princess Bulma almost scoffed at this. "I do not have everything I want, silly boy." How was she so naturally flirty? The Prince didn't think she even realized this about herself.
"For example, I want my father to be healthy again, as he's been ill for quite some time."
"But that is out of anyone's control," Prince Vegeta replied. "Anything you can control, you can have."
"If only that were true…" Princess Bulma sighed. She finished peeling her fourth orange and carefully slipped a cut into her mouth. If only the Prince knew how painfully wrong he was. She wanted Yamcha, and she could never have him. For even if Daddy approved, he was a taken man. And she didn't want that. No, the Princess wanted the same version of Yamcha she had known a day earlier, before the world came crashing down.
"I must go soon," She finally announced. "I have equestrian training in an hour."
"You ride horses?" Prince Vegeta asked.
"Yes, it's a bit of a hobby of mine." She said. "But I am sure such a thing must be below you?"
"Yes." The Prince was blunt."But I'd be willing to give it a try if you would have my company."
The Princess looked to him, his dark eyes staring back at her. "Of course," She said, thinking that it would be nice to not be alone.
