"Oh, Chi-Chi. You don't even know the half of it." Bulma's eyes watered. Should she confess about Yamcha? Should she explain the joy and nervousness she felt around the Prince? For she enjoyed his conversation, but the thought of him admiring her rendered her absolutely terrified? Should she explain Maron's proposition?

The answer was yes. Bulma explained everything.

It took the better part of an hour to get the full story out. She minimized the details about just how close her relationship had been to Yamcha, unable to admit to it after learning of what a deserter he turned out to be. But Chi-Chi knew of him now, nevertheless.

"Oh, Princess, that explains so much. Like why you would disappear for hours at a time throughout the day." Chi-Chi had said when she learned about him. And when Bulma got to the part of the story about the Prince, she noticed Chi-Chi's knuckles were white. "The king wasn't at dinner last night, was he?" She said thoughtfully.

"No. So it must be true. He must be sick with grief about me and Yamcha." Bulma's eyes watered. "I never wanted to cause any of that."

"Oh, Princess, don't cry!" Chi-Chi wrapped her arms around her friend and brought her in for a tender hug. "We can't help who we fall in love with. It isn't your fault. Yamcha seduced you."

This only made the Princess feel worse, as if she should have been wise enough to recognize it. She began to cry more, unable to keep her lower lip from trembling. "What'll I do, Chi-Chi? I hardly know the Prince."

"Something I know is that the saiyans are a much more tender race than they appear," Chi-Chi said softly. Bulma looked up to see that her friend's cheeks were pink. "They are strong, and tough, and some are tempermental. But get one in private, and he'll make you feel like the entire world."

"Are you talking about Kakarot?" Bulma asked.

"Just trust me." Chi-Chi's blush deepened. "This doesn't have to be the end of your life. I'm sure the more you get to know Prince Vegeta, the more you'll understand what I mean."

Prince Vegeta had just finished a long day of training with his colleague, Kakarot. The sun was starting to set in the sky, and he stood on the balcony of his room watching it.

Once again he considered everything his father had urged the night before. He needed to propose to the Princess.

And he quite liked the idea of this, whether he wanted to admit it or not. She was so delicate and innocent, yet she hadn't taken his bouts of temper seriously when they were riding horses the previous day. She'd been the only Princess he'd ever met who would just laugh, or even make a remark to go along with whatever angry thing the Prince was impulsively spouting. As if it were a game.

It made him feel understood.

And the night before - oh, was that a night he wouldn't soon forget. Despite the fact that it was necessary and only happened because of her inebriation, Vegeta couldn't stop replaying those moments in his head. Holding her protectively as he escorted her from the Grand Hall. Grabbing her waist to keep her from falling. Carrying her in his arms to her room…

It had all felt so right. Prince Vegeta could see himself doing such things for the rest of his life, and he imagined future evenings of social events in each other's company. They'd be much more well acquainted, and the act of closeness would be natural. Normal. She'd be his wife, and she'd wrap her arms around him should he ever need to hold her steady. She'd demurely lean into his ear and whisper the words " You smell so good, " just as she'd said the evening before.

And Vegeta would smirk as he told her the same, free to indulge in her floral scent whenever he so desired…

"Son."

The Prince, not one to typically be startled, turned abruptly. "Father."

"We leave tomorrow. If you're going to do it, you must before we leave." King Vegeta said. "I must attend a meeting with the Kurkle people. It came up suddenly today."

"Not a hostile meeting, I presume." Prince Vegeta replied. His heart was beating faster from the news.. It was happening, and it was happening fast.

"No, just the same type of business. Consultation regarding the Frieza Regime. Apparently King Cold has decided to visit their planet in the upcoming days."

"Right." The Prince looked back out to the orange sky above the balcony. He licked his lips nervously, his mouth suddenly dry. He needed to go for a fly and think things through…

Bulma sat on her balcony that night, having slept the majority of the day away. Other than being a bit hungry, she felt quite alright in her current state

She was watching the sunset, which was something she didn't often do. She considered the conversation she'd had with Maron the previous day. The stories of betrayal that just didn't seem to end when it came to Yamcha. What was she to do?

"What's with the face?" A voice asked. Bulma turned to see the Prince hovering at eye level, watching her with folded arms. She couldn't help but feel deja-vu at the question.

"What face?"

"Nevermind," Vegeta let himself onto the balcony floor. "How do you feel?"

"Erm, not bad ," Princess Bulma replied. She backed up a tad from the saiyan, feeling his eyes opon her. Once again she remembered what Maron had told her of his admirations, and she pulled her robe tighter, as if to hide behind it. "Why are you here? Did you miss me or something?" She asked cautiously, unsure of what to say.

"What if I did?" He replied, raising an eyebrow.

Blankly, Bulma looked back at the saiyan. It was clear she hadn't been expecting such a response, and he watched her become less stiff in her surprise.

"Can I show you something?" Prince Vegeta asked, figuring he'd teased her enough.

"Um, sure-"

All the sudden the Princess was being hoisted on Vegeta, piggy-back style. She gasped and wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he took off without warning, and she couldn't help but scream as her hair blew in the wind.

"Watch the ears," Vegeta said.

"I don't like heights! Prince Vegeta!"

"And I am not very fond of horses, but yesterday I endured. Now I will take you flying."

"This isn't necessary!" Bulma gasped. "Is this your way of getting back at me for losing the race? Because it isn't funny! Please stop!"

"I am not getting back at you, I said I want to show you something. And trust me, Princess, it is funny."

And with that, Vegeta took off into the clouds. Bulma squeaked and hid her face in Vegeta's neck. She moaned fearfully, and when he realized that she was truly frightened he decided to slow down.

"Look," He said, bluntly but with a soft tone. Bulma hugged him even tighter and looked down, realizing he'd descended from the clouds. "Do you see?"

"Oh my," She gasped. Below was a large herd of what must have been fifty mustangs. "Look at that,"

"I heard you created a bill that prohibited their capture," He said. "I thought you would find this interesting."

By now the sun was completely gone, and the moon shined down on the horses, causing a glowing effect around their bodies.

"Y…Yes, they were becoming extinct. They were captured and forced into illegal racing. When they became old, instead of being set free, they were being sent to slaughterhouses. But how did you know?"

The mustangs began to move from her vision, out in the open field. "Follow them. Please!" Bulma urged.

"As you wish," Vegeta descended even lower towards the mustangs as he trailed their route.

"Oh, my. They're so beautiful!" Bulma breathed.

' And so are you, .' Was the first thought that came to Vegeta's head, but luckily he didn't say it outloud. How would she react if he told her such a thing? She'd gone running the day before when he'd commented on her soft skin.

She nuzzled her cheek against the back of his neck, resting her head as she watched the herd continue towards a glistening river. Vegeta could feel her limbs shaking, her teeth chattering near his ear.

"You're trembling. We're going back."

"Wait! Please!" She gasped. 'I'm alright!"

"You're getting cold."

"Just wait until they all cross the river… Please, Vegeta!" She begged. "This is so marvelous… Oh my goodness!"

The pleading in her voice, the way she gripped him tightly. Vegeta found it hard to deny this request. He sighed and made his decision. He would allow her to watch the herd cross the river, but then they were going back. On his terms.

"Oh, my! Look at that, Prince Vegeta!" Bulma gasped when the horses finally made it to the bank. Sparkling water splashed around them as they walked in, and with the moonlight it resembled diamonds. "This is so… wonderful."

It was enjoyable listening to her 'oohs' and ' ahhs' . And soon enough the horses had made it to the other side, where they began to graze. "Thank you so much, Prince." Bulma breathed. She was beaming from ear to ear, her eyes never leaving the herd.

"Okay, now let's go back. But first…" And Vegeta began to descend towards the Earth. They landed where they'd been hovering, and it was hard to see the river from this angle. Bulma's bare feet touched grass when she climbed from Vegeta's back. "Is everything alright?"

"Here."

With that Vegeta began to unclasp his cloak. Staring into her eyes, he wrapped it around her, pulling it tight. "This might help with your body temperature."

It smelled of him. Of body spray, of sweat, of testosterone, and… chestnuts. She breathed it in, feeling cozy as she pulled the cloak even tighter around. "Thank you," She smiled. "For this. For bringing me here."

She looked so pretty under the moonlight. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed into his own, that serene expression on her face. How cute she was nuzzled in that cloak. How at ease she appeared to be.

It was too much.

Vegeta felt himself wanting to put his hands under her chin, to dip it up at a perfect angle for a kiss. And for a moment he almost acted on these impulses. For a moment he wondered if she would let him.

"We should head back." He gulped.

"Alright,"

The following morning Bulma felt much better when she awoke. The scene with the horses seemed like such a dream, and for a moment she wondered if it had really happened.

Having slept the previous day away with only the bread Chi-Chi had served her, she was now eager for a hearty breakfast. And so she dressed quickly and made her way to the Grand Hall, hoping she'd see her father during the meal.

It was in the hall that she ran into Prince Vegeta, and his eyes widened when he saw her. "Hey."

"Good Morning, Prince." Bulma said. She was still feeling appreciative for showing her the mustangs the previous night. Still remembering the warmth of his cloak, still remember the smell of his neck. It made her want to blush. Instead, she curtsied, bowing her head as she did so.

"Such formalities are not necessary with me, Princess." The Prince said. Bulma was expecting him to find the act humorous, but there was not a hint of amusement upon his face. He looked rather serious.

He took a deep breath, and finally sighed. "Look. I will not lollygag. You must know that father and I are leaving today." He said.

"Oh." Was all Bulma could reply.

"I will not be returning unless I have an incentive." He continued. "As hospitable as you have been, I am a very busy man."

"Oh. I see."

"And I have enjoyed the past couple days of getting to know you." He added.

"Likewise, Prince." Bulma bowed her head again.

"Stop that. Again, formalities are not required in my presence. Look, I have a question to ask you."

And she knew. Knew that Maron had been right. Knew that he was about to ask the question she'd been informed of since he'd landed on Earth. Bulma knew what he was going to say, and she somehow couldn't face to hear it. This wasn't how she'd imagined her proposal to be. She'd always imagined it with Yamcha. She'd always imagined it after a romantic night of watching the stars. She never imagined it would be done like a business agreement.

If she didn't accept, her planet wouldn't be safe. The Prince wouldn't return, nor the saiyans, and her father would likely perish with stress. If she didn't accept, she would be letting her entire world down.

"Would you-"

"Yes." She interrupted.

"Yes?" His eyes widened. Clearly he was taken aback. "You don't even know what I was going to ask."

"Yes, Prince Vegeta. For what other incentive would you have to return? I grant you my hand in marriage. I accept your proposition."

" Really? " The Prince's eyes widened further. For her to be so eager to accept must only mean one thing. She felt the same way about him that he did her. There was an attraction between them, regardless of how many days it had been. And he need not worry about her being forced into a situation she did not want. She wanted this, too.

"Yes, Prince. Really." Bulma replied. She smiled softly, the way she thought one would just after accepting a marriage proposal.

"That settles it," Prince Vegeta said. "Princess, I want you to know that I will spoil you every day, and I will treat you as gently as possible. I will do my best to make you the happiest woman on Vegetasai."

She blushed, embarrassed.

He held out his hand as if to take hers. "May I?"

"Oh… sure." She placed her hand in his. The feel of his skin made her cheeks redden even more.. Especially when he squeezed her affectionately and began to lead them through the corridor.

Was this going to be the rest of her life? Holding hands like this? The Princess couldn't help but ponder as they moved closer to the Grand Hall. It wasn't necessarily bad, but just so… foreign. She'd never done something so intimate with anyone other than Yamcha. And even though she knew he was a manipulator and a liar, Bulma couldn't help but feel that she was betraying him. What would Yamcha say if he were in the room right now? Would he accuse her of infidelity? She was agreeing to marry a man without formally breaking up with her other.

Deep in his thoughts, the Prince was ecstatic as he walked to the Hall. As beautiful as he considered her, as enticing, he had assumed she didn't feel the same towards him. Yet she did. They would marry, and it wouldn't be forced at all. It was such a relief. She, the Princess, could have any husband she wanted. And she'd selected him.

In the grand hall sat King Briefs and King Vegeta. Having fallen ill with a cold the last couple of days, King Briefs was now feeling much better as he ate his fried ham. He'd missed the majority of his guest's visit due to his frailty, and he hoped this didn't compromise the possibility of an alliance.

"Father." Prince Vegeta's voice caught their attention.

Both Kings looked up to see the Prince and Princess holding hands. "We are engaged."

"Wonderful!" King Vegeta exclaimed.

"Marvelous!" King Briefs announced. He wanted to express enthusiasm at the news, but inside he was unsure. He could see the look on his daughter's face, after all.

Having always been an expressive child who wore her feelings on her sleeve, she never outgrew that trait as a woman. Right now she didn't look miserable, but not exactly pleased. King Briefs had always envisioned his daughter jumping for joy when the day came that she was engaged. Being the one who wanted to share the news, instead of standing idly by.

Clearly something was amiss.

"Are we sure this isn't too soon?" He asked. "Not that I wish to shed unhappiness at the decision, but the two of you have only known each other for three or four days."

Princess Bulma looked in her fathers eyes, surprised at his reaction. Was he giving her an out? But that wouldn't do. He'd still remain just as stressed as ever, and she couldn't let him down. "When you know, you know." She said.

The King wasn't so convinced. He opened his mouth to say something more, but just then Maron burst into the Grand Hall with a few of her colleagues. "I've just heard the news!" She called.

"How?" Princess Bulma demanded.

"Oh, the entire palace could hear the cries of joy!" Maron squealed.

"I'm not so sure-" King Briefs began to say, but Maron interrupted him.

"Oh, how amazing to see young hearts in love. Surely you wouldn't have accepted one another unless it was the real thing. King Briefs, don't you think so? If the Princess was unsure, she wouldn't have accepted."

"That's right," Gulped Bulma, and she couldn't help but to feel anger at Maron's words. Maron had been the one to bear the news, to really push the decision so sternly on her. How could she say this now? As if she didn't know? "I accepted for a reason, Father."

And this wasn't a lie. There truly was a reason to marry the prince. She just wasn't going to say what that reason was. Despite how the news would make her father happy in time, to rid him of worries about his planet's stability, he would not allow it. Not if he knew her motivation. He'd insist that she mustn't, and then leave Earth vulnerable to the Cold Empire.

No, that wouldn't do.

Bulma had to get married.