It was noon, and Bulma was dressed in her riding outfit. She felt even gloomier than she had that morning - it seemed the more time that passed, the worse she felt. She couldn't believe she had agreed to letting the Prince accompany her during her training. After all, she hardly knew him!

"What's with the face?" The Prince asked. Bulma looked up and saw him leaned against a stable wall, dressed in a blue suit and white boots. Much different from how she had seen him up until now.

"What face?"

"That - never mind." Vegeta pushed himself from the wall. "So, which one will I be riding?" Vegeta slowly approached her. Bulma took a step back. She wasn't expecting his movement.

"Erm, well, you can ride this one over here. He's nice." Bulma gestured to the brown horse on her right.

"And which one is yours?" Vegeta took another step towards her. She decided to stand her ground, instead of backing up again. "That one over there. The Black stallion."

"Alright." A smirk lined his lips as he peered at the Princess. "Let's do it, then."

The horses were already saddled and ready to go, having been prepared by the servants earlier in the morning. Bulma led Vegeta to hers, giving the horse an affectionate pet on his long nose.

"Do you know how to get on a horse?" She asked.

"Do you ?" He couldn't help but to shoot back. Bulma merely laughed, turning her back to the saiyan. "Of course I do, watch,"

And then she mounted in one swift motion, kicking a leg over the horse as she settled into the saddle.

"Mph." Vegeta huffed. He walked to his horse, and instead of following the Princess' lead, he levitated into the air before easily plopping down on its back.

"Isn't that cheating?" Bulma asked.

"I got on, didn't I?"

The morning passed fairly quick, and despite her sadness about Yamcha, the Princess found herself laughing quite a bit. Why, she couldn't help but giggle when Vegeta struggled to control his horse.

"Stop doing that!" Vegeta growled at his horse. "Listen to me right now!"

"You know he can't understand you, right?" Bulma laughed. "Why do you talk like you're having a conversation with him?"

Patiently she showed Vegeta how to steer the horse, teaching him to kick its sides when he wanted to go, click his tongue when he wanted to trot, and how to say "giddy" when he wanted to gallop.

"Giddy? What a ridiculous sound!" Vegeta tssked.

"Just do it!" Bulma jeered. Rolling his eyes, the prince said it. So quietly that Bulma could barely hear, but the horse sure did.

Off it went galloping , Vegeta shouting an obscenity as it went. Bulma laughed and egged her stallion on. Soon she had caught up to the saiyan. "Race ya!" She called.

"Like hell you will!" Prince Vegeta replied. He was competitive by nature, and even with a ridiculous sport such as horse riding, he refused to lose. "Giddy, damnit, giddy!" He snarled, frustrated as Bulma gained the lead.

"Ha!" Bulma crowed. She looked over her shoulder and winked as she went, and the saiyan couldn't help but smirk. Once again he found himself wondering if she knew how flirtatious she was, because she made it seem so natural in her personality. She wasn't trying at all, he could tell.

"Eat my dust, sucker!" She joked, kicking her feet to encourage her horse.

"Hey." Vegeta snapped out of the momentary trance, competitiveness coming back at full swing. "How dare you leave me behind!" He kicked his feet, as Bulma had just done. The problem was that he did it a bit too hard. In one sudden movement the horse lifted its front legs in the air, bucking Vegeta off.

Without thinking, the prince summoned an energy ball in his hand. "You stupid, filthy, bastard of a-!"

"What are you doing?!" Bulma interjected. She came charging back on her horse, and jumped off as soon as she was within close proximity. "Don't!"

What was he doing? Vegeta looked at his hand, as if only just realizing that he was about to brutally slaughter one of the Princess' beloved pets.

"Knock it off! Stop!" She yelled again, all joy gone from her once giggling voice. She grabbed his arm and immediately gasped."Oh!"

"What? Are you alright?" Vegeta was worried she might have accidentally struck the energy ball. He looked to her, hoping not to see blood, and he was surprised at the look on her face.

"So warm," She breathed, staring into his palm. "And it's so big. I've never seen power like that before."

"What do you mean?" Prince Vegeta inquired.

"I've seen men do this, but it takes them time to summon energy. You did it so fast." She gazed up at Vegeta's face, her blue eyes glowing from the light of the ball. "What does it feel like?"

What did it feel like?

Nobody had ever asked such a thing before, and Vegeta found himself at a loss for words. How could he describe the pulsations in his palm, the strain in his blood that was relaxing at the same time? He found he enjoyed this challenge of a question, and he really liked that Bulma had been the one to ask it.

Lost in a daze, Bulma looked down to the energy ball again. It was good that Vegeta was watching her so closely, because she reached out as if to touch it. Instantaneously Vegeta withdrew his energy and the ball disappeared, just in time for Bulma's hand to fall into his.

His mouth nearly fell open, looking down at the delicate fingers in his palm.

"Sorry," Bulma stuttered, pulling back. "I didn't mean to-"

"Your skin feels like silk," the Prince said before he had a chance to stop himself. "Why is that?"

Truthfully, he was used to gruff calloused hands that came from a lifetime of physical exertion. Any hand he'd ever shook felt the same. But hers - it was so soft when he first took it and kissed it during their initial meeting, and it was incredibly soft now.

"I don't… I don't know." Bulma replied. Her cheeks were reddening ~ the only person she had ever touched like that had been Yamcha. And this had been accidental.

Yamcha.

Oh no, not Yamcha. A lump filled Bulma's stomach, and she gasped out loud at the threat of the tears. "I- I have to go." She sputtered, turning so the prince wouldn't see her face.

"Princess,"

"No! I need to take care of something!"

And then she took off running, and Vegeta held out a hand as if to stop her, but she was already long gone.

"Wait!" He called as she grew smaller in distance. "What do I do with these horses?! Princess!"

Through the field Bulma ran, audibly crying as tears balled down her face. The idea of Vegeta enjoying her touch terrified her. He wasn't Yamcha. She hardly knew him. Oh, Yamcha, was it really true? She needed to see him - to talk to him and hear it from his lips. That he was married with child.

Into her quarters ran Bulma, stripping off her riding boots, her leggings, her tight shirt. She threw her hat off and untied her hair, allowing it to fall past her shoulders. She quickly threw on a simple pair of jeans and a baggy T-Shirt that she kept hidden in her lower drawer. Yamcha had bought the outfit for her weeks earlier. Bulma grabbed a bag and went for her window, crawling out before anyone could see.

Once hidden in the trees near the palace grounds, Bulma opened her bag and retrieved some clips, pulling her hair into a tight bun. She threw a black wig on her head and wiped her eyes again. She was now in her civilian disguise, ready to confront the naval officer. And into the village she began her walk, knowing exactly where to go as her feet led the way…

Hours later Bulma was laying in bed, sobbing as she hugged her pillow. Yamcha had never answered his door. He was either ignoring her, or had gone off on some assignment for the military. But she wasn't going to be able to get that conversation. He hadn't been there to confront.

A soft knock wrapped on her door, and Bulma rolled to her side. "I do not wish to have visitors. Go away." She called, hoping the tears couldn't be heard in her voice.

"But Princess," Maron called from the hall. "I must speak to you about your father-"

The door swung open, Bulma's eyes upon the advisor. "What is wrong?" She asked.

"Never you worry!" Maron exclaimed, letting herself into the room. "What is going on here? Why have you been crying so? Don't tell me it's about that naval captain."

"It is," Bulma admitted. "I tried to confront him today and he wouldn't answer the door." She fell on her knees, crying into her arms as she knelt against her bed.

"Oh, Princess. Princess. " Maron put a hand on Bulma's shoulder, with much more tenderness than she'd had the night before. "Don't cry, my Princess. I didn't want you to find out this way, my poor Princess."

"Find out what?" Bulma lifted her head.

"Yamcha has gone missing. Charese says he ran off as soon as she told him about paying you a visit."

"What do you mean?" Bulma sat back.

"He is worried that his relationship with you has been outed among the castle. He fears punishment for maintaining a relationship with you."

"And so he just left?" The Princess asked. That didn't sound like the Yamcha she knew… But then again, he was always trying to convince her to run away with him…

"I'm afraid so. We have guards searching for him as we speak, but there is suspicion that he fled the planet with pirates."

"Guards?" Bulma breathed. "So father must know-"

"Yes." Maron put a hand on Bulma's chin, forcing her to look up. "And the news struck him quite hard. That is why I came to see you."

"But - I thought we weren't going to tell him!" Bulma exclaimed.

"Ssh, shh! I didn't! Someone must have overheard and leaked the information to him. He was beside himself with rage, but it took a lot out of him. He's grown incredibly weak."

"Oh no," Bulma jumped to her feet, but Maron caught her by the wrist. "Not so fast, Princess. I know you want to run and check on him, but I wanted to tell you a way that could raise his spirits."

"What is it? What can I do?"

"Finalize the deal with Vegetasai and marry the Prince."

She said it so matter of factly. Bulma gasped and shook her arm free.

"Marry the prince ?!"

"Many have noticed the way he looks at you. There is much talk of it. Rumor is that he will ask for your hand in marriage before they leave the planet. You must accept it, Princess."

"How would that make any effect on my Dad?" Bulma demanded. Tears were streaming yet again, terror at the scenario played before her.

"Marriage will finalize ties with Vegetasai, and permanently, too. It wouldn't provoke a war with the Cold Empire, and it will ensure peace for Earth. That means your father will he able to rest easy. It's his one wish - the protection of Earth."

"Surely there must be another way," Bulma begged. "There must be another way to form an alliance with King Vegeta,"

"No. It has been discussed to exhaustion. There is no other way. Vegeta is most likely going to propose to you, and you must accept it. Understand? For the health of the King, you must do your part."

There was no reply to this. Maron walked to Bulma's closet and pulled out a soft pink gown. "It's almost time for dinner. Get dressed."

Princess Bulma didn't speak during dinner. She sat at the far end of the table, staring at her plate and poking her food.

In the goblet beside her was red wine, filled to the brim. She sipped it miserably, considering how much had transpired that day.

The few times she looked up, she'd noticed the Prince side-eying her from his end of the table. She wondered if he was upset with her for running off the way she did earlier. Bulma took another sip,

Soon the plates were cleared from the table, leaving Bulma alone with her drink. She'd only picked at her food, unable to stomach it with her mood. Father wasn't at the table, she'd noted, which only confirmed Maron's story.

He must be so ill…

"Are you trying to burn a hole in the table with your eyes, or did they just get stuck like that?"

She looked up to see the Prince taking a seat beside her. Her heart fluttered - she couldn't help it when he sat so close.

"Really though, what's going on?" The Prince continued when she did not respond. "You ran off and left me with those horses, and made yourself scarce for the rest of the day. Now you're pouting in a corner as if someone's just nailed you to the table."

She almost grinned at that.

"How were the horses?" She asked. "I'm sorry I left you alone with them."

"That apology was much overdue, but I accept it all the same."

Taking another sip of her half-empty goblet, Bulma actually smiled this time. She assumed the horses must have been put away just fine - a groundskeeper was always nearby to assist.

"I didn't know you drank, I thought tea was your preference." Vegeta said, trying to change the subject.

"It usually is, but tonight I wanted wine."

"And why is that?"

"The same reason I like oranges," She shrugged. The alcohol in her veins, combined with her empty stomach, was rendering her far less reserved than normal.

"About earlier. Your hands-" Vegeta began, and Bulma knew he was going to give some awkward explanation of the event, which would be completely inaccurate to what it truly was.

"Let's not talk about that," She interrupted. "That's way behind us, don't you think?"

The Prince didn't reply. He merely raised an eyebrow, looking her over. "Are you feeling alright?"

Nodding with a little too much enthusiasm, Bulma took the last sip from her now empty goblet. That was the second helping she'd had that night. And too bad, for she wanted more. But she knew she mustn't.

"I'm fine, I just need to go the bed." Bulma stood abruptly. She wobbled a bit, nearly losing her footing, and caught herself with the table.

"I think you should be escorted back." The Prince said, standing as well.

"I know my way to my room."

"You're in no condition to walk by yourself."

"I'm safe in these walls." She said, almost irritably. She attempted a step forward to prove her point, but her ankles shook and she had to catch herself again.

"Let me walk you out of here before someone else notices your state." Vegeta's mouth was suddenly next to her ear, his breath hitting the side of her head and sending goosebumps down her back.

Without a reply, without even a nod of agreement, Bulma sort of leaned sideways into Vegeta's frame. She felt warm fingers wrapping around her wrist. And she felt him gently pull her forward, guiding her to the double doors of the hall. The lights were so bright, and Bulma hardly knew where she was going as her feet followed his lead.

Soon they were in the hall, much to Bulma's relief. It was much more dimly lit, and she sighed happily.

"Thanks Buddy, I've got it from here." She intended to walk away, but her ankle turned. "Eep!"

Thick arms were around her waist, keeping her from falling on her face.. Bulma gasped when her delayed nervous system finally put the information together and told her it was Vegeta.

Not Yamcha.

Her Yamcha was gone.

She attempted to pull out of Vegeta's grasp, but he held her firm. "You're going to hurt yourself." His voice said in her ear.

And a moment later she was laying in his arms as he carried her through the corridors. She opened her eyes once or twice, but too much was spinning for her to get a good bearing on where they were.

It wasn't until she felt the familiar cold silk against her skin did Bulma realize she was being settled on ber bed.

"There," Vegeta said. "And don't try to go anywhere. Go to sleep."

"Prince Vegeta," Bulma yawned.

"Oh, I am a Prince now? I thought my title was Buddy ,"

But the Princess didn't even register the reference he was making.

"You smell really good," She said. Matter of factly. As if he must know such information, as if it would be of use some day. And then she rolled over and fell asleep, not caring that the Prince was still standing over her. Watching with a surprised smirk.

Outside he stepped from her room, those last words replaying in his head. It was hard not to be flattered when such a sweet smelling, soft and beautiful Woman complimented him.

"Son."

The Prince jumped.

"What were you doing in the Princess' room?"

It seemed that they'd been followed. Prince Vegeta growled under his breath and began the walk towards the guest hall. "I wasn't doing anything you should be concerned about."

"Obviously not. You were escorting the drunk princess to bed."

Prince Vegeta's face remained stoic. "You noticed."

"How would one not?" The King cleared his throat. "Are you going to propose to her? We need to head back before too long."

This was enough to stop the Prince in his tracks. "Don't you think it's a bit early for such things?"

"Not by any means."

"Well, I do," Vegeta said. He began his walk once more.

"You know it must be done. And I know you find her attractive - I see it every time you look at her. Who could blame you, Son? She's quite a beauty to behold."

"Stop." Vegeta growled. He could actually feel his face reddening, and he hated it. Did his father know everything about him?!

"Do you love her?" The King abruptly asked. "You speak as if you do."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You don't deny wanting to marry her."

There was nothing to say to this, and the two walked the rest of the way in silence.

Once back in the confines of King Vegeta's room, the prince decided to ask him a simple question.

"Father. Did mother love you before you married her?"

"Of course not.. She was forced into marrying me." King Vegeta responded. He was in the restroom, eased into a full Jacuzzi tub. The door was open so he and his son could talk.

"Why would you allow that?" Prince Vegeta asked. "Why would you want to force a woman into your life when she does not want to?"

"Vegeta, I fell in love with your mother the moment I saw her, just like it happened to you with the Princess. I was the Prince and her family was more than willing to force her to accept me."

"And she did."

"Yes, she did. She married me and she learned to care about me. We had a very good marriage. And the Princess will come to care about you, that is just the way it is."

He had nothing else to say to this. The Prince had a lot to think about, and so little time.