Tangled Up in Blue Chapter 10: Belle of the Ball, a dragon ball z fanfic

Tangled Up in Blue

Disclaimers: Like always, I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan from DBU for the title of Planet Souljin and the character Kail. Other characters and Souljin lore/details are all my creation. Also, reminder that I do go off of original ages with Bulla older than Pan since old habits die hard!

Author's Note: We have ARRIVED! I am so stoked to share this chapter with all of you. This has been the scene that would not leave my head, and eventually, out of it came a full-fledged story. To think this little love letter to my OTP has grown into over 100k words already is quite insane, but I'm eternally grateful for all the love and support. I hope, I HOPE you enjoy this as much as I do. This is part one of the ball!

Playlist Chapter Recommendations: Belle of the Boulevard, Fairee Soiree, LA FAMA, Iris, An Evening I Will Not Forget

Chapter 10: Belle of the Ball

Trunks had not felt very princely in days.

Ever since his humiliating loss against Zasso, he had been pushing down this gnawing feeling of inadequacy. This was certainly new to him, though the emotion wasn't completely foreign. It wasn't easy being the heir to the Capsule Corp. fortune and company, as well as the heir to the would-be throne of Vegeta. He was royalty, a fact his father would drone in his head over and over as a child, and he was essentially human royalty with his status as President of the Capsule Corp. empire. Much of his life had come without struggle.

And yet—

The expectations of others weighed down on him; a silent burden Trunks would pretend didn't bother him. Truly his parents' son, two workaholics in their own right, the demi-Saiyan powered through and buried it inside him, determined to not show that side to anyone. Taking after his father especially in that way, the proud hybrid didn't want to ever showcase his inadequacies for all to see.

Until somehow, a chance encounter with his childhood friend turned his world topsy-turvy.

He couldn't put his finger on it. This was Marron. For years, Trunks and her were two different people but found some sort of friendship in spite of it. Aside from Goten, there wasn't anyone else he trusted more. Sure, he would have the occasional thought of her in a less than brotherly way, but Marron was gorgeous; and he was only human, albeit half-human. She had the rare ability to drop his guard and heighten it all at the same time.

Last night's conversation with Prince Zasso regarding Marron brought Trunks to a strange realization. It would have been so easy for him to derail Zasso's interest in Marron, but couldn't. He didn't want to jeopardize his friendship with the blonde, even via dissuading Zasso from pursuing her. It technically wasn't his place.

Trunks sighed; he wondered if he'd ever know his place.

Staring in the mirror, he almost didn't recognize himself. Trunks donned a magnificent piece of Saiyan Regalia, crisp white with navy undertones and a strange symbol on the chest. Looking back at him, the reflection was a much more refined and regal version than he was used to. In some ways, it felt fraudulent; Trunks could talk a big game to make himself feel more important than he was, playing up his pedigree and confidence. In this ensemble however, it was a glimpse at almost what could have been.

Whatever uneasiness he felt inside, it was masked by the ever stoic gaze of Clan Vegeta.

"You look incredibly handsome, Trunks."

Blushing at his mother's words, Trunks was in the middle of trying to fasten the remaining clasps. "Thanks Mom," he said in the midst of struggling. An annoyed scoff unleashed under his breath and Bulma, sensing his frustration, walked over to assist. Trunks nodded in thanks while his mother fidgeted with the mechanism.

"I feel out of place in this," he confessed freely.

Bulma nodded. "I understand. We all are a bit–save your father."

She glanced back at Vegeta entering the room, having been done with his Saiyan Regalia for quite some time now. He certainly looked the most princely he ever had. Never coronated, Vegeta had refused a crown, but after much convincing from King Engei, he accepted a small circlet that had been crafted specifically for him for the occasion. Both Trunks and Vegeta had navy capes with the inside lined red; a telltale sign of Saiyan Royalty.

"Well, there's my handsome prince!" Bulma complimented, admiring her husband as his cheeks flushed. He grunted something under his breath and Bulma knew him well enough to know that was his way of accepting the compliment.

"Are you done yet?" Vegeta questioned, growing impatient.

"Hold your horses, Your Highness," his wife answered mockingly, "almost there."

Her nimble fingers did their best to hurry, and Trunks glanced at the symbol on his chest.

"I think they have the symbol the wrong way on here," Trunks commented, recalling a slightly different emblem on Kusa's garments as well as on various pennants throughout the castle.

"Fool," Vegeta chastised, "have I taught you nothing of your heritage? That's the Saiyan Royal Crest."

"Then why do the Souljins flip theirs?"

"Because they're wrong."

"Vegeta!"

"Fine. Because their ancestors were on the opposite side of the Sadalan Civil War," Vegeta continued, "and that faction of Saiyans inverted the symbol. Honestly, to see it plastered everywhere here feels like a mockery."

"Vegeta," Bulma clicked her tongue, "these people have shown you nothing but kindness, even going so far as to ensure the proper symbol on your own armor which they had so graciously custom made for you. You could stand to show a little more gratitude."

"I never said I was ungrateful," Vegeta insisted, "just that it's the wrong symbol."

"Maybe it was your side who started the war," Bulma taunted, eager to push his buttons yet still struggling with the foreign armor. "Maybe your family were the ones to change it. Ever consider that?"

Vegeta scoffed. "Don't try me woman," he said plainly, "this is not the night."

Bulma released Trunks' clasp to turn to yell at her husband. "Vegeta," she chided, "I did not squeeze myself into this gorgeous gown, which you have YET to compliment me on, may I remind you, only for you to call me woman."

"Can we not do this now?" Trunks groaned, knowing they were cutting it close as is.

His mother turned her head in a huff and made an attempt for the clasp again, but Vegeta intervened. "Give me that," he said, taking over. "It's not as difficult as either of you are making it out to be."

This prompted Bulma to mutter under her breath and leave to check on her daughter's progress down the hall. Trunks grew quiet as his father adjusted the strap with ease. At first, he felt embarrassed that his father had to step in and worried that he'd be chastised for being an imbecile. Especially after his sorry display in the barracks. But Trunks was surprised that not only was Vegeta silent, he seemed calm.

He was taken with the look in his father's eye—it was foreign to him. Usually, Vegeta just scowled in disappointment or, on very rare occasions, he would show a quiet sort of admiration. The current expression favored the latter.

"Dad?" Trunks questioned after a brief period of silence. Vegeta kept his focus on the armor, slowly raising his eyeline towards his son's face.

"For once, you look more Saiyan than Earthling."

The remark drove Trunks to lift his eyebrows in genuine surprise. It was certainly not something he was used to hearing from Vegeta.

"I…" Trunks was at a loss for words. He could sense his cheeks flushing while his heart inflated with pride; this was one of the closer moments the father and son pair had and Trunks appreciated the significance. For Vegeta to comment as he did, the younger Saiyan Prince knew his father must have truly felt that way. A shy grin appeared.

"I take it…that's a good thing?" Trunks said, almost knowingly.

Vegeta smirked, giving one last tug on the clasp. "As if you have to ask," he stated, finally finished with the cape.

Both briefly regarded each other with the same countenance, and while their coloring was different, the similarities of the duo was more than evident this evening. Even so, Vegeta's signature scowl returned seconds later as he stood about-face and snarled, "Now quit dawdling. The sooner we attend this affair, the sooner we can leave all the pomp and circumstance behind."

Trunks chuckled to himself. There was the Vegeta he knew.

Moments later, Bulma returned to the room and sighed. "Bulla is still getting ready," she said, bracing herself for the reaction. Vegeta looked annoyed but merely shook his head.

"Let the girl arrive late," the Saiyan Prince responded, "I'll not have the rest of us do the same."

His wife almost protested leaving without their daughter, but understood they had their own timelines. Vegeta walked past her and Bulma nearly followed suit, but paused when she saw Trunks still in front of the mirror. He looked deep in thought, touching the Saiyan crest on his armor with rapt attention.

"Trunks?"

He turned his head towards his mother, snapping out his daydream. "Yes?"

"Sweetheart, we're heading down," she said, "let's go."

With one last look in the mirror, Trunks tore away and followed his parents. Any apprehension he had would have to be buried once again.

Like he always did.

The splendor of the Souljin Palace ballroom could not be understated.

Situated at the bottom of a grand staircase, the hall was rich in blue and gold hues, with a substantial dance floor in the middle of the room. On one end, an ornate head table decorated to the nines, across the way, a plentiful buffet. Palace staff also made the rounds with appetizers and drinks, leaving no one to want for anything. There was a latticed wall that led to a large balcony overlooking the water gardens.

Candelabras irradiated the sparkling setting, and a full orchestra played tune after tune of melodious music. The dance floor was lively with men in their formal regalia while the women stunned in various colored ballgowns. Music trumpeted in the air, making it difficult to hear any and all introductions. Hundreds of conversations at once also brought the noise level to an elevated high.

For Goten, it was one of the more fascinating spectacles he witnessed in his twenty-nine years.

Joined by Goku, the two walked in on the tail end of the festivities starting up. Goten had come across his father in the hallway, both donned in their new custom finery, on his way to the ballroom. Dark blue capes hung at their backside, giving a sense of regalness that felt out of the ordinary for the two. As they entered, Goten was instantly captivated by the surroundings. Here he had already seen most of the palace, and yet, the Souljins continued to outdo themselves.

While descending the staircase, the younger Son man observed King Engei at the center of the head table, most of his family on the left side. He was carrying on a conversation with Bulma, while Vegeta was situated quietly in between. Trunks sat disinterested on the other side of his mother. Right next to him was an empty seat.

Bulla wasn't there, he noted. Maybe she was grabbing a drink or hanging with Marron and Pan.

He didn't have much time to wonder, as Goku's fidgeting caused enough of a distraction to get sidetracked.

"Everything okay?" Goten asked.

"I feel a little funny dressed this way," Goku admitted to his youngest. Goten gave an encouraging smile.

"This could have been your normal outfit in another life," he said, almost pensive.

Goku laughed. "Glad that wasn't the case," the elder man replied. "Give me my normal training gi any day over this."

The two men were stopped in their path by Princess Hinoki and her attendants. Her emerald gown gave the already majestic royal an even more stately appearance.

"Welcome Son Goku, Son Goten," the Princess-Consort greeted with a smile. "I trust your outfits are to your liking?" she wondered, ever the gracious host.

Bowing politely, Goten answered for both of them. "Yes, thank you again for your generosity Princess Hinoki," he said sweetly.

Hinoki beamed, eyeing the man up and down with a twinkle in her gilded irises. She wasn't inspecting him out of romantic attraction, that much was clear, but there certainly was something that prompted the Souljin royal to take an interest. Goten wondered if perhaps he bowed incorrectly.

"I'm delighted to hear that," Hinoki responded. Her body shifted to face Goku. "Son Goku," Princess Hinoki began again with a smile, "we've arranged a spot for you at the head table over at the end right past Prince Vegeta's family. We'd be honored to have you join us."

"Gee, thanks!" Goku responded in his genuine tone. Hinoki beamed at the older man's sincerity.

"Son Goten, you and your brother, along with the rest of the Earthling guests will be close by at another table. I do hope that's alright."

"It's perfect," Goten quickly assured. The less attention on him the better, he thought to himself. Goten snuck a glance at Trunks looking bored out of his mind at the head table and chuckled at the sight.

"Wonderful! Do let me know if either of you need anything," she stated, "I'll be making the rounds but please reach out to me or any of the palace staff should your drinks or plates need refilling. We've several buffets available as well if you'd prefer to grab yourself."

"Man oh man, Goten!Look at all that food!"

His son didn't even have a chance to answer before his father darted off in search of his next meal. He sheepishly grinned at Hinoki. "Appreciate all the help, Your Grace," Goten murmured, a faint blush of awkwardness ornamenting his cheeks.

Still sprouting a coy smile from earlier, Hinoki assessed the man in front of her again with fascination. She dipped her head to her attendants and they curtseyed and left the two alone. Goten found it odd but didn't dare to question the Princess-Consort. Stepping a bit closer, the shorter woman looked up at Goten and hummed an inquisitive noise.

"Tell me, Son Goten," the golden-eyed beauty stated. "I know both your father and brother's wives were unable to visit Souljin," she continued, "did you also leave a wife behind on Earth?"

Taken aback by the question, Goten stuttered before reply. "I'm uh–I'm actually not married," he answered. The other woman's eyebrows raised with interest.

"No betrothed then either?"

"None."

"Any relations of any kind?" she questioned curiously.

"I'm–"

Goten didn't quite know how to express that while he was single, he wasn't looking to be paired with anyone. "I have someone in mind," he said earnestly. Seemingly content with his answer, Hinoki's radiant smile only grew.

"I bet whoever has your attention is quite lucky," she complimented. The little flash of intrigue in her eye alluded to Hinoki knowing a bit more than she was saying, but Goten didn't want to be presumptuous. Clearing her throat, the Princess-Consort bowed her head. "I'll be sure to relay your status back to my handmaidens so they do not get their hopes up for a dance," she added.

Though her reasoning made sense, Goten was still a bit suspicious at the line of questioning. Even so, Hinoki was nothing but kind. "Give them my thanks at least," he said, trying to laugh off any nerves.

Hinoki beamed once more. "I wish you a pleasant evening, Son Goten," she finished, giving her best curtsy as she left to attend to her other guests.

Watching her leave, Goten wondered the motivation behind her sudden interest in his background.

With his father off to make a mess of the buffet, Goten decided to try and find Bulla—starting with locating the other women of the group. His eyes lit up when he was able to locate them at the edge of the dance floor.

Marron's ensemble was a light, pastel pink ball gown that flowed when she turned. Her beautiful, blonde tresses were worn down with just a touch of curling at the edges. Pan also styled her hair down, wearing a metallic silver piece that was more fitted and less-princessy…right up her alley. She looked super identical to his mother, and Goten couldn't help but smile at his niece's brimming adulthood. Sneaking up from behind, Goten joined the two on the sideline.

"Now what are you two lovely ladies doing over here alone?"

His friend and niece turned around to smile and greet him. "There you are," Marron remarked, "we were wondering when you'd join."

"Hi Uncle Goten," Pan waved, "you look nice."

"Me?" Goten asked with a light laugh. He threw up a hand and gestured at the quarter-hybrid. "Look at you! No way that's my niece all dressed up."

"Very funny," Pan stuck her tongue out.

"Trunks is stuck at the head table," Marron said, pointing over to their friend looking bored out of his mind. Goten noticed the still empty seat next to Trunks, wondering where Bulla was if she hadn't been with the girls. He didn't have time to speculate long before Marron continued speaking.

"And Uub is, well…"

The trio glanced at Uub who, once again, seemed to be at the center of a plethora of Souljin women.

Goten couldn't help but laugh, much to Pan's dismay, finding the sight a near repeat of their prior evening. "Uub certainly seems to be popular," he remarked, causing his niece to huff in frustration.

"These women act as if they've never seen a man before," she grunted, chomping on a chicken skewer with great intensity. Both Marron and Goten shared a knowing glance at one another.

"If I didn't know better Pan…"

"You don't know better, Uncle Goten."

"Yikes," Goten chuckled, "maybe that's my cue to go mingle elsewhere."

Marron laughed into her palm. She didn't blame her friend for wanting to escape Pan's ire. "Enjoy the ball, Goten," she said sweetly, contrasting the sharp tone his niece had used. "We'll catch up with you later."

With a wave, Goten left to go seek some more familiar faces. He searched the sea of guests for any signs of blue hair, but aside from Bulma, he wasn't able to locate any women with that feature. Granted, only one woman with that hair color was of interest to him. He sighed, hoping that eventually he'd cross paths with the illusive princess.

Since Trunks was occupied, the next option he noticed was Piccolo, who was easy to spot, but also tied up with a crowd of people curious to meet a Namekian for the first time. Thankfully, he didn't have to look too far to come across another Earthling. His older brother, the golden boy himself, sporting his one-bang hairstyle amidst a glasses-free face, which was quite the oddity.

"Busting out the contacts for this, bro?"

Gohan turned to see his brother snickering and chuckled to himself. "One of us had to be the attractive sibling," he teased.

"Ooh, ouch!" Goten clutched his heart in mock pain. "And here you've tricked everyone into thinking you're the nice one…"

Another light laugh accompanied the two brothers as they shared a quick hug. "Truthfully, I just didn't want to worry about fogging them up," Gohan confessed, "I always get a little nervous at these things."

"Nervous? You?"

Gohan smiled facing his sibling. "Sure. There's a ton of foreign dignitaries and council members attending. We're here to make a good impression, aren't we?" he said beaming. As soon as he uttered those words, the two brothers' attention diverted to some loud shattering of plates near the buffet. Evidently enough, their father may have been a little too eager when trying to fill his plates. Gohan sighed. "Well, most of us are anyway," he continued, shaking his head.

Goten chuckled in reply. "I can understand that," the younger sibling admitted, thinking of how he showered twice in a row because he was so anxious about looking presentable.

Handing his brother a wine glass from the passing waiter, the two clinked their glasses. "To overcoming nerves," Gohan said pointedly.

"Here, here," Goten concurred, taking a sip.

Gohan looked as if he was about to say something further, but he stopped mid-raise of his chalice. Whatever caught his gaze, didn't seem to be a bad thing. Noticing his brother's bemused countenance, Goten raised an eyebrow with curiosity. Turning in the direction Gohan was looking in, he understood what had captured the older man's attention.

What was capturing nearly everyone's attention.

Her.

At the top of the golden stairway, a beacon of light in blue. Donning a gorgeous fitted ball gown, the Saiyan Princess made her grand entrance quietly, but her aura spoke volumes. Decorated in aquamarine shades from head to toe, Bulla sparkled like a diamond unearthed from the ground. Priceless and precious.

Her dress included an off the shoulder sleeve and a one-shoulder sheer cape on the opposite side. It was certainly a gown fit for a princess. The ensemble contrasted greatly with the royal red her family was sporting down below, but it seemed only more eyeballs glued to her presence.

Though the commotion of the room was still in high gear, many stopped to take note.

None more so than Son Goten.

All sound faded. All thought left. All breath exhaled.

Noises ceased, lights dimmed, save for the ethereal glow that emanated off the porcelain skin of the princess. The material of her sheer blue dress had a sheen that glimmered as she made her way down the grand staircase into the ballroom. Illuminating her as if she was the only sight to witness in the room.

And to Goten, she was the only sight. The only thought. The only desire.

"B-Chan."

He whispered this to himself, but couldn't even tell. Goten's eardrums flooded with a strained heaviness that seemed to mute the music and conversations around him. An asteroid could have hurled itself towards Souljin and still, he'd be transfixed on Bulla as he burned in place.

His brother, ever observant, saw the starstruck gaze in the younger man's eyes and couldn't help the wry grin that formed on his lips.

"Something catch your eye?"

No answer.

"Goten?"

"Hmm?"

Gohan chuckled softly; his sibling hadn't even taken his gaze off Bulla when he barely acknowledged him. He knew Goten had been keen on the heiress however, this was another level entirely. An all-consuming attraction that seemed only to burn more intensely as she descended.

"Something catch your eye?" the scholar asked again in a mild teasing tone.

Vacillating his attention between Gohan and the Saiyan Princess, Goten hastily gave a polite nod.

And once more, his focus was solely on the woman in blue.

The elder Son felt a fondness in his chest at his brother's taken state. The prior evening, Gohan had unintentionally spied on a deep moment between Goten and Bulla. Though he had some natural reservations when it became first apparent there was a spark between the two, Gohan could see it plain as day on Goten's face the affection he held for the princess. It caught the scholar by surprise how much restraint his younger sibling exuded, certainly something he never really practiced in his youth. Goten had always been a little more hedonistic yet, this side of him was new. If Bulla brought that out in him, then maybe Gohan's initial concerns were misplaced.

"You know," Gohan began, careful with the wording of his next statement. "It's okay to admit Bulla looks lovely this evening, Goten."

Goten drew a sharp breath in response, gaze still averted. "Yeah," he agreed, to what he knew not, for he was completely enraptured elsewhere.

Another laugh passed Gohan's lips. His brother was a goner; and for some reason, Gohan found himself more apt to the notion than he expected himself to be.

Across the way, Bulla scanned the room for a certain half-Saiyan in particular. Narrowingly averting her father's eyeline, whose glower of annoyance at her tardiness was evident, the princess continued to search the crowd, until two sets of familiar black hairstyles paused her search. She briefly locked eyes with the younger Son man and her heart nearly lept out of her chest. The besotted expression on Goten's face was everything she was hoping for. Her genuine smile couldn't be wiped from her mouth even if she tried. With every intent to head in his direction, Bulla found herself surrounded at the bottom of the staircase by a bevy of soldiers vying for her attention.

"Princess Bulla, you look lovely!"

"Princess Bulla, do you need a drink? Let me fetch you something!"

"Princess Bulla," a gloved hand extended in front of her, "will you do me the honor of a dance?"

The blue-haired heiress lifted her eyes to a handsome soldier she faintly recognized as General Taikan's second-in-command, Lieutenant Nashi. Surrounded by multiple options, his request was certainly one way to remove herself from the small swarm she found herself in. With a polite smile, Bulla took Nashi's hand and replied, "I'd be happy to."

The frustration of the other soldiers was palpable as they each sighed and hmphed when Lieutenant Nashi led the Saiyan Princess away.

Goten felt a shift beneath his feet when he saw Lieutenant Nashi whisk Bulla out to the dance floor. He hadn't even had a chance yet and already, the younger hybrid was being courted by several Souljin men. Gohan, still readily observing his brother's movements, took note.

"What's wrong?" he wondered, already surmising the answer.

Stirring in place, Goten attempted to appear unbothered. "Nothing, it's just…" the younger man paused to collect his thoughts.

"What?"

"Bulla seems to be getting a lot of attention," Goten said with a hint of regret.

While watching the Lieutenant dance with Bulla, the elder sibling glanced over and observed his brother's disappointment. He gave a sympathetic smile. "Well," Gohan started to say, "maybe you should do something about it little brother."

Off guard by the change in demeanor from the prior evening regarding the subject, Goten cocked an eyebrow at his sibling. He sounded almost…encouraging.

"Huh?" Goten responded at a loss for words.

Remaining quiet, Gohan simply sipped his wine and nodded in Bulla's direction. Goten was still a bit perplexed at the sudden support, but he wasn't about to question it. Before he had the opportunity to act, the two were joined by a Trunks who somehow freed himself from the confines of the head table.

"There you are."

In his own little world, Trunks approached the two Son men, still playing around with his armor, unaware of where Goten's mind was. "These suits are stiff as hell," Trunks muttered to Goten, all while fidgeting with the collar.

Goten didn't register the annoyance as he kept his attention solely on the beauty in blue from afar. The unexpected advice his brother gave him floated in his head.

"Yeah," he answered absentmindedly.

Without taking his eyes off of Bulla, Goten distractedly handed Trunks the remnants of his chalice, and started to head towards the center of the ballroom. A man on a mission. Gohan chuckled quietly to himself when he realized what Goten was doing. Trunks' mouth dropped in confusion, looking at the half-empty cup and back up at Goten's fading figure. He managed to hand off the glass to a passing attendant as he took a few steps closer to the other man.

"What's with your brother tonight?" Trunks asked Gohan, hoping for some clarification. For a minute, the elder Son sibling broke his concentration on the dance floor and smiled at the younger hybrid.

"Who, Goten?"

"No, your other brother—of course I mean Goten!"

Gohan emitted a short laugh. "Easy, Trunks," he soothed, "I couldn't tell you. I think he's just enjoying the ball."

Trunks' eyes narrowed as his concentration on Goten's destination became all the more clear: his sister.

"You've got to be shitting me…"

…

Multiple subjects beckoning for her attention, one would think Bulla Briefs was living the dream.

As she danced with the Lieutenant on the floor, it was not unnoticed the amount of people staring in her direction. She had already been approached by numerous soldiers when she walked in, but it was clear other officials and guests alike were eyeing her too. She had been so concerned in garnering favor with Goten, it escaped her that she may have amassed some from the Souljin men in attendance as well.

Not that any of them mattered. Bulla wasn't here to break hearts, only to try and attempt to win one.

Bulla scanned the crowd, trying to relocate the Son brothers, all while attempting to appear not rude to her dance partner. Lieutenant Nashi was attractive and courteous, but she knew her heart lay somewhere else. She'd nod to give the illusion of paying attention, though if anyone were to quiz her, the heiress would fail miserably. Her eyes continued to traverse the room as they spun, until they finally landed upon someone approaching them.

The look of delight said it all.

"May I cut in?"

Lieutenant Nashi turned to see who tapped him on the shoulder, since the princess in his arms seemed to be enraptured with whoever it was. Faintly recognizing the half-Saiyan, Nashi smiled. Given the expressions on both of their faces, the soldier knew he couldn't have protested even if he wanted to.

"Certainly, Son Goten," Lieutenant Nashi conceded.

Though her attention had been elsewhere, the heiress brought her focus back on the Souljin soldier. "Thank you for the dance, Lieutenant," Bulla mentioned with a poised grace.

"A pleasure, Princess," the lieutenant responded, as he bowed. Bulla appreciated the man's well-behaved nature and were she not so eager to dance with her next partner, she may have entertained another dance with him.

As soon as Nashi released her hand, he gave a polite headnod to Goten and valiantly stepped aside. "She's all yours," he said kindly, heading away from the dance floor.

Yours.

The statement resonated with both of them as the two stared breathlessly at one another.

"Hi," Bulla was the first to break the silence; a touch of nervousness and giddiness both evident in her voice.

"Hi," Goten returned, and though his own nerves were there, the reverent tone he spoke in held a commanding aura. His sable eyes drank in her form, the princess looking even more ethereal up close. "You look stunning," he continued as earnestly as he could.

Bulla felt her face flushing uncontrollably at the compliment. The sweet manner in which he spoke, along with the taken stare, was everything she was hoping for with her ensemble. "So do you," she said, eyeing just how handsome Goten looked in his Saiyan Regalia. He was like the gallant knight from the fairytales she devoured as a child. "That armor suits you," Bulla added.

Another small wave of silence passed before the two chuckled at the quietness. Remembering where they were, Goten bowed with an almost practiced air. "Princess," he spoke in a jokingly formal tone, "might I have the honor of this dance?"

With a confidence that Bulla didn't know she possessed, she curtsied and replied, "Like he said, I'm all yours."

In an instant, Bulla felt his strong hands pulling her to him, the grip firm but tender. A small smirk graced his lips. "All mine?" he teased. His grip tightened around her waist, while his free hand interlocked her fingers with his own. Bulla shivered at the contact. "Lucky me," Goten breathed in her ear before the two began to sway to the music.

Bulla followed his lead, the dance floor blurring around them, leaving only the two in focus.

Goten feasted his eyes over her form; studying every detail of the intricate gown that took his breath away. The pale blue color only highlighted all of her already gorgeous attributes. He was always fond of the shade, but Bulla managed to make him love it even more. As they twirled about, all the guilt and worry he had felt leading up to that night seemed to temporarily evaporate.

Likewise, the Saiyan Princess couldn't believe this was all happening.

It was better than a dream, Bulla thought, it was her actual reality. Every little childhood fantasy of her being in the arms of the one man she idolized beyond all others, beyond even her father…here he was, holding her like she was the only person to exist.

She meant it when she said how handsome he looked in that Saiyan Regalia. Something about it felt so right. His blue cape caught her attention and she smiled to herself; though a darker shade than her own blue outfit, she loved the fact that their hues matched. Different enough to not alert anyone otherwise, but enough for Bulla to know she made the right call on the dress.

His footwork impressed the heiress, as she matched him step for step. "Is dancing one of your hidden talents, Goten?" Bulla kidded with her partner.

Without answering her, Goten dipped the bluette, who let out a tiny squeak of surprise. A tad reminiscent of her father, Goten's eyebrow raised with amusement. "One of many," he said suavely, admiring her from above. Pulling Bulla back up to his chest, Goten continued to study the features of the woman with delight and no pretense of subtlety.

Her own eyebrow perked up in curiosity. "What's that face for?" Bulla wondered.

"Just…enjoying the view."

"It is a nice ballroom," the bluette commented, a touch unawares. Goten chuckled.

"No you, silly."

"Me?"

Goten slowed their movements for a moment, his gaze unwavering. Bulla could almost hear pin drop in spite of the activity around them with how steeled his focus was. The second Son could only smile at her. He took a breath, absolutely confident in his response.

"You're the most beautiful woman in the room tonight, Bulla," Goten confessed.

Her heart nearly stopped as he spoke. With a blush, the princess replied, "You're just saying that because I'm your best friend's little sister."

Though lighthearted in tone, Bulla felt a pang of sadness as she uttered those words, trying to justify the other man's outward affection. While she wanted nothing more than to live out her younger self's daydream, the pragmatic side of her urged caution. The last thing she needed was to make something out of nothing. Even so, Goten's firm hold and enraptured expression were enough to cause the heiress to hope.

"If anything," Goten returned in a lower register, "I shouldn't be saying that because you're my best friend's sister."

The pinkness of her cheeks darkened into a crimson red, yet the grin on her face grew exponentially. Bulla leaned in further, enjoying their waltz and oblivious to the interested observers around her and Goten.

…

Gohan, satisfied with his younger brother's sudden bout of courage, chuckled to himself. Quiet enough where most wouldn't hear him, but loud enough where one demi-Saiyan took note.

"What?" Trunks asked, his arms folded as he watched his sister make googly eyes at his best friend.

Gohan turned to Trunks with a bemused expression. "It's funny," the older man replied.

Trunks mirrored his father's famous look with one eyebrow raised. "What is?" the prince wondered.

With a big smile, Gohan leaned off of the wall. "I just can't recall a time Goten has been so…" the scholar trailed off, searching for the right words. He was further distracted by the face of a pleading Piccolo, petitioning him to walk over to the opposite side of the room. Nodding in understanding, Gohan patted Trunks' shoulder, heading in the other direction.

Incredulous, Trunks widened his arms. "So…?!" he said, trying to lead Gohan back to his original thought. As the other man faded, he laughed yet again and playfully answered back.

"Smitten," Gohan finished.

Trunks stood there, mouth agape, immediately returning his attention to the dance floor. "Smitten?" he repeated to himself, noticing that Bulla was not the only one making googly eyes.

So was Goten; his best friend. His brother in all but blood. Looking every bit the word smitten, just as Gohan said.

He huffed in disbelief, almost marching himself towards the dance floor until a recognizable, dulcet tone goaded him in a different direction.

Marron's bright laughter was indistinguishable, responding to something Pan had said next to her. Pan's expression revealed some annoyance at whatever she had spoken earlier, which only seemed to make Marron chuckle harder.

Trunks loved it when she laughed.

The younger Saiyan Prince had his heart stuck in his throat observing her. She was radiance personified. Her golden locks stood out from the darker shades in the crowd, like a beacon calling him towards her. Though his brotherly instincts were kicking in, Trunks was intent on trying to enjoy the evening as best he could. He shifted directions and began his trek towards the blonde.

If that meant momentarily forgetting about whatever his sister and best friend were up to, then so be it.

The brothers were not the only family members observing the pair on the dance floor…

From the head table, Vegeta sloshed the Souljin wine around in his goblet with incessant force. His scowl was far more apparent than his son's version, simmering in silence while watching Kakarot's youngest whisk his daughter about the dance floor.

The nerve.

He considered himself fairly understanding at letting Goten continue his training with Bulla. Though Vegeta was disappointed at the lack of transparency by the both of them, the Saiyan Prince was not as unreasonable as many thought him to be. It was clear she was benefitting and Vegeta appreciated Goten's candor when confronted about it, even if he was annoyed that he hadn't been told prior.

Still, the proud prince assumed that the small olive branch he granted would deter anything else going on. Or, at the very least, result is more straightforwardness from the two. But, as his eyes followed the two, Vegeta could only stew.

"Tch," he muttered under his breath.

With Bulma engaged in a conversation on his left side and King Engei making his rounds about the ballroom, there was no one nearby to notice the bulging vein on his forehead.

No one, he thought, until an all too familiar voice rang out.

"Oh hey, Vegeta!"

Vegeta winced as his back was patted by Goku, whose free hand was holding a rather large turkey leg. Clearly making his way back to his seat, he too, happened to witness the sight on the dance floor and stopped in his tracks to watch.

"Look at Goten and Bulla go out there!" Goku commented, taking a bite out of the turkey leg. As he chewed, he continued. "They almost kinda look like a couple, ya know?"

The glass in Vegeta's hand almost snapped into a thousand pieces, angry heat racing to his face. Oblivious to the ire that the Saiyan Prince was exhibiting, Goku continued to happily eat his food, returning to his seat once more. It was at this time Bulma's conversation had ended and she witnessed Vegeta's internal rage bubbling up to the surface.

"Whoa, what's got you worked up, hot stuff?" Bulma wondered, taking note of her husband's reddened face. Too perturbed to answer, the prince scowled at the dance floor, pointing his finger at the display in front of them.

"Look," was all he managed to croak out.

Her wife's painted lips pursed in curiosity, following his eyeline to Goten and Bulla dancing together. She smiled warmly when she realized what he was looking at.

"Isn't that sweet?" Bulma stated. Vegeta snapped his head to her, aghast with horror.

"Sweet?!" he shouted back. "Pray tell, what is sweet about it?"

Her eyebrow perked up in confusion. "Goten taking time to dance with Bulla?" she commented quizzically. "Honey, what's gotten into you?"

Vegeta scoffed in response. "Our daughter," he began, "dancing with Kakarot's brat."

"Your point…?"

"It's…it's…"

At a loss, Vegeta couldn't find the right words to articulate his sentiments. Bulma gazed again at the younger pair dancing away, her motherly pride swelling.

"You know, Vegeta," she said, "I'd think you of all people would be delighted."

Swiftly turning his head, Vegeta opened his mouth to reply. Before he could answer, Bulma continued speaking. Her hand gently grazed his thigh and Vegeta winced at the contact, still uptight. "Look at her smile," Bulma murmured, leaning in, prompting him to return his concentration to the view before them. It couldn't be denied how happy Bulla appeared to be.

She squeezed his knee. "Let her have a little fun," his wife continued, "better with someone you know and like."

"I do not like–"

"Goten?" Bulma finished his sentence for him. A melodic laugh escaped her mouth. "You mean your son's best friend? The son of our friend? Someone who is basically your second son?" she asked. Another chuckle emitted from the scientist. "Sure, Vegeta, whatever you say."

Vegeta growled. "Regardless," he started to say, "doesn't mean I have to like him parading about with Bulla."

"It's a ball, Vegeta–that's what people do at balls. Wouldn't kill you to lighten up."

Sitting back further in his seat, Vegeta folded his arms, festering in silence. His woman could never understand the nuances; it was more than the brat's pedigree. The thought certainly had crossed his mind before, that while someone of Saiyan blood would be a preferred match compared to another sort of weakling, there was the other side of the coin, too. Someone like that could protect her, sure, but they could also do far worse as well. Whether or not Goten would ever do such a thing remained to be seen, unlikely as it was.

Nevertheless, Vegeta could tolerate many things, save for lack of candor. Judging by the way Goten held his daughter so affectionately, there was much the hybrid hadn't communicated with him. He wondered if he ever would.

As his eyes narrowed in on the younger man, he produced an unspoken warning.

I'm watching you, Third-Class.

Goten gulped as Vegeta's intense stare finally locked onto his orbs, the Saiyan Prince not faltering in the slightest. It was a sobering moment amidst the dreamlike state the two had been in. He had been so enraptured in the dance, part of him forgot they were subject to the eyes of everyone in the room. Including Vegeta. Feeling some nervous laughter bubbling, Goten averted his concentration to the heiress in his arms.

"Everything okay?" Bulla wondered. Her calming presence soothed him and reignited his confidence. Goten managed to sneak out a sly grin.

"Don't look now," he began, "but your dad looks like he's about to have conniption."

Already sensing she'd turn her head in curiosity, Goten spun the woman around to give her a better view of the head table without making it obvious. Bulla briefly glanced at her father scowling, who in turn, tried to appear as if he wasn't looking. Eyes rolled, Bulla shook her head. Returning her attention to Goten, she smiled warmly as she guided his arms to fasten just a little bit lower than before.

"Let him," Bulla said confidently. She wasn't going to let anything or anyone ruin this moment for her.

With his breath hitching at the more intimate contact around the small of her back, it took Goten a moment to register the bluette's tiny act of defiance. Impressed with her tenacity, Goten let out another chuckle.

"As you wish, Princess," he answered in a teasing tone. Holding her closer than ever, Goten was content in their own bubble. The wrath of the Saiyan Prince could wait a little longer.

…

From the sideline, another pair was paying attention to the closeness between the hybrids. One more supportive than the other.

"Nothing between them my ass," Pan muttered under her breath. She huffed at the sight, feeling a bit out of the loop. "Yeah right," the quarterling continued.

Marron could only laugh to herself at her friend's comment. Without wanting to reveal any more details, she remained quiet, observing their other best friend look every part the princess that she was. In the arms of a handsome knight in shining Saiyan armor, as it were, who just so happened to be their friend and uncle, Marron thought.

Feeling every part the proud older pseudo-sister, Marron found it hard to stop smiling. Bulla deserved a magical night with someone she cared so deeply for.

Hadn't every girlhood fantasy involved some sort of romantic evening like this?

Briefly glancing across the room, the blue-eyed blonde made eye contact with a certain lavender-haired prince. It was quick, however; his eyeline darted elsewhere after a couple of seconds, but Marron knew he had been looking in her direction. She felt the butterflies in her stomach multiplying.

"My, Majin Uub, are all Earthling men as divine as yourself?"

Pan scowled as her ears picked up an annoying high voice belonging to one of the several women surrounding Uub. For whatever reason, Uub seemed to be attracting as much attention as Bulla had when she entered the room. Pan didn't dwell on it at first; it wasn't as if the two had attended the ball together. Slowly but surely, she felt her insides twitch with aggravation.

"It's just Uub, I don't get it," Pan muttered under her breath.

Her older friend offered an encouraging smile. "Uub's a handsome guy, Pan," she started to say, "plus, he's so sweet. Can't blame these women for finding him attractive."

"Yeah, well they don't have to be so obvious about it."

"If I didn't know any better, Pan…"

"YOU don't know better, either!"

Rolling her eyes, Marron held her tongue, but still formed an amused expression at Pan's apparent jealousy. Her eyes darted back to the ever-growing group of women honing in on the defenseless Uub.

"Say Majin Uub, will you dance with me?"

"No! I was going to ask him to dance."

"I was here first!"

As the handful of Souljin women started arguing, Uub sank further into his seat. He shyly tried to decline their requests, but couldn't seem to formulate the proper words. Marron heard the faintest growl next to her, and within an instant, the quarterling at her side vanished.

"Sorry ladies, he already has a dance partner," Pan spoke as she dragged a confused Uub to his feet. "Play along," she hissed under her breath, looping her arm in his as they proceeded to the center of the ballroom. Uub seemed both a little frightened and relieved at his rescue, and both Pan and himself were red in the face with embarrassment as she fastened her arms around his neck.

The sight was a welcomed one to Marron, who knew that, despite any protests, the two were happy to be dancing together. She smiled as her azure orbs followed both pairs of friends on the ballroom floor. While the blonde was delighted to see the two would-be couples enjoying themselves, the slight gnawing of her insides indicated a sort of longing for the same.

Even with the advances of the handsome Souljin Prince, there was something gratifying about finding companionship with a lifelong friend. She saw it plain as day with Bulla and her childhood crush, as well as Pan with Uub. Marron wondered if she would ever find the same.

"Marron–"

Whipping around to the familiar gravel-toned voice of her youth, the human smiled when she realized Trunks had finally made his way over to her. Trunks planned to say hi, but alas that was the extent of his plan. Words escaped him as he hung his mouth open, soundless and uneasy. His friend started to formulate a drop of sweat out of concern.

"Trunks?" Marron posed, inquisitively. His wide-gaped stare almost unsettled her, were it not so handsome. Trunks took in a deep breath.

"Wow, you look…"

Once again, he was rendered speechless. Marron's eyebrow perked up.

"I look…?"

"Celestial."

She didn't mean to laugh at his candidness but the blonde was certainly surprised by his vocabulary. "Hundred dollar word for you, Your Highness," Marron winked in jest, "you sure I don't look silly?"

Trunks swallowed the air. "No, you look perfect."

Heat jettisoned out from her cheeks at his earnestness. "Thank you," Marron whispered quietly at the unexpected sincerity. She got a better look at his armor, enjoying how the spandex underneath clung to his muscles. Fresh memories of how they felt on top of her made her mouth dry. Her complexion only darkened at this.

"Oh, um, your armor…you wear it well," the blonde responded, trying to pay back the compliment.

"Thanks," he replied, rotating his stiff arm. "I feel ridiculous in it," he confessed.

"I know the feeling," Marron admitted, "we're not our usual selves tonight, to say the least."

Expecting her friend to make some sort of quip, Marron was surprised when instead, he trailed his steeled gaze over her form. "You're always pretty though," Trunks replied, no bravado in his tone, just authenticity.

Marron played with the curls at the end of her flowing tresses. The same nervous habit she always had, her heart thumped a million miles a minute, as she tried to make more small talk.

"Looks like everyone else is dancing," Marron changed the subject.

"Yeah."

"Looks fun."

"Yeah."

Marron's head turned to Trunks once more as it became all too obvious he had been staring. She released her hair from her fingertips. "Trunks," the blonde whispered, "you keep saying that."

"Yeah…"

Silence befell them, until it clicked for Trunks what she was trying to get at, his distracted state waning. The time for action was upon them and he knew he'd regret it if he never asked.

Now or never, Trunks.

"Marron, would you like to–"

"Lady Marron!"

The two friends turned to see Prince Zasso, looking every part the royal prince that he was, approaching them. Trunks was keen to discern the twinkle in Marron's eye with the other man's arrival, and part of his gut sank with realization that she seemed elated at his appearance.

"Good evening, Zasso," she responded cordially.

"Zasso," Trunks greeted.

The Souljin Prince gave a polite nod of acknowledgement to Trunks before returning his attention to the woman between them. "How exquisite you look," he complimented, as he took her hand to kiss it. The two smiled at one another, and for a moment, Marron nearly forgot the man at her other side, at least until he cleared his throat loud enough for both of them to notice. Still, the prince continued undeterred.

"You have the patience of a saint, Lady Marron," Zasso praised, "I'm sorry that I've been unavailable until now. Mingling with the masses is rather exhausting."

"You are fine!" Marron insisted. She turned to her side. "Trunks has been keeping me company," she said, catching his attention.

Before he could respond, Zasso beamed at the man. "A true friend," he commented. Pivoting his focus back to Marron, he extended his hand. "My lady," Prince Zasso continued, "may we finally have this dance? I've been looking forward to it all evening."

Marron was primed to grab his hand, until her gaze caught the pair of icy blue eyes beside her. "One moment, Zasso," she started, holding up a solitary finger. The blonde smiled at her longtime companion, a bit wistful at the question he had attempted to pose minutes before.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask, Trunks?" Marron wondered. Part of her held out hope he'd make an effort before she committed to dancing with Zasso.

Looking at the two, Trunks knew Marron was eager to join the prince on the dance floor. Who was he to stand in the way?

"Nothing important," he lied through his teeth.

Disbelieving her friend, she raised an eyebrow. "You sure?" Marron asked, giving him another chance.

As he eyed the blonde beauty up and down, a sort of princess in her own right, Trunks felt something shift. Though he didn't want her in the arms of Zasso of all people, he wanted her to have an amazing evening. She deserved that much at least. Whatever brought a smile to her face, Trunks committed to ensuring that, even if that meant spending it with someone else. He struggled to say the full extent of his feelings, so he simply replied, "I'm sure."

Prince Zasso nodded in appreciation and looped his arm around Marron's own. "Shall we?"

Still unable to take her eyes off her lavender-haired companion, Marron wasn't sure what to make of his answer. Especially given that Trunks had previously been so resentful of Zasso. She wondered if maybe he truly didn't feel how she hoped he did. Maybe he was just being nice to her. Maybe it was just his stupid pride that caused him to act jealous before.

Maybe he just didn't want her.

"Lady Marron?"

Her head turned to the handsome Souljin man, eagerly awaiting her confirmation. Marron gazed back at Trunks one last time; if he wasn't wanting to pursue her, at least someone here at the ball did. The blonde hooked her arm around Zasso's and beamed. "Yes, let's dance," she said, hiding any inner turmoil with a quick smile.

"Terrific."

Satisfied, Prince Zasso led her to the dance floor, and Marron briefly looked back at her childhood friend, if not just to confirm her suspicions. His crestfallen countenance however, made her second guess.

Trunks kept his emotions at bay, yet the unsettling rumble in his chest only indicated he felt more deeply than he cared to admit. When he saw Marron and Zasso reach their destination, he drew in a sharp breath, and flipped his body to make a beeline towards the bar.

He needed a drink. A strong one.

Lost in their own little world, the two demi-Saiyans swayed together, locked in a quiet embrace. Goten inhaled her perfumed scent, the remnants of coconut still present underneath the more powerful jasmine aroma. The mix was intoxicating.

Bulla hung onto his neck with a little more firmness. "This feels nice," she murmured.

A single digit traced her lower back, stroking with the utmost care. He didn't have to say anything to know he was in agreement, yet he said so anyways.

"It does," Goten whispered, causing her to smile.

With her back to the head table again, Bulla was curious if they were still being observed.

"Is my dad still freaking out?" Bulla chuckled, expecting to hear Goten's own rich laughter, but the intensity of his charcoal orbs took her by surprise.

He leaned in, narrowing the gap between them. Those onyx eyes Bulla had come to admire so ardently, they peered into her pools of blue with a sincerity that stalled her heart. By now, they were molded into each other's frame, their dance becoming far more intimate than before. The hand around his neck stiffened, as did the other hand Bulla had on the back of his head.

"Goten?" she continued in a softer voice.

Clutching her tight, Goten answered back confident as ever. "I'm not looking at your dad anymore," he confessed, staring her down.

Her stomach did a flip. "Oh?" was the only word she could muster out.

Goten shook his head. "Just you, Bulla," the half-Saiyan whispered.

The resolve in his response left her breathless. "Oh…" she repeated, feeling a bit weak in the knees.

Bulla saw his gaze dart further down her face, stopping at her lips. His own set parted, no more words coming out. As the music swelled, Goten twirled the heiress out and then pulled her back into him with a grip that would have been impossible to leave, yet still tender enough to convey the unspoken fondness between the two.

Not that Bulla would have left for anything at that moment.

Delicately, her fingers ventured further up into his hair, the bluette's own grip impressively strong itself. Her chest pressed against his, allowing for no space between them, save for mere inches near their faces. Close enough to hear each other's labored breaths of anticipation. Close enough to smell the mix of exotic perfume and borrowed cologne. Close enough to almost taste…

Half-lidded eyes soon shut as they inched towards one another, the intent clear.

Yet, their lips never met.

Right before the two Saiyan hybrids could connect, the music ceased to play, and applause roused them from their trance. With their surroundings becoming clearer once more, along with the reminder they were not alone, Goten and Bulla pulled back to observe each other. The disappointment palpable on their visages.

"B-Chan," Goten inhaled with a sharp breath.

Unsure what to say, Bulla followed suit with his name. "Goten," she trailed off. The quiet drumming of their thoughts muddled the sounds of the band beginning their next piece. Her thumb caressed the back of his head, hoping to recreate the magic moment that was lost unto them. He was almost tempted to lean in and take matters into his own hand, when another voice finally broke the spell.

"Oh Princess!"

The pair of demi-Saiyans focused on Princess Hinoki approaching them with a warm smile. Sobered by the Princess-Consort's appearance, Bulla loosened herself from Goten's hold. As much as she would have preferred to remain attached, she didn't want to make herself suspicious to the peeping eyes surrounding them.

"Hinoki, good to see you," the turquoise-haired woman responded.

Hinoki gave a quick bow of her head, momentarily observing Goten with a smile, before returning her attention to Bulla. "I have a few council members eager to meet the rest of Prince Vegeta's family…care to accompany me?" she said, already reaching to loop her arms despite a lack of answer.

"Oh uh, sure," Bulla fumbled, caught off guard by her new friend's assertive movement. She tilted her head back to see her dance partner frozen in place, trying to assess what just happened. Her heart tugged as she mouthed goodbye with a slight wave of thanks.

Confused by the Souljin Princess' actions, Bulla refocused her attention. "Hinoki…?" she barely got out before the older woman curled her lips upwards. Sensing her disappointment, Hinoki kept her eyes forward, calm and in control.

"Is Son Goten still watching you leave?" the Princess-Consort asked without moving her head.

Widening her eyes, Bulla rotated herself to look back and see Goten in the same place he had been moments before, still fixated on her every movement even as she faded from view. Her chest warmed at his spellbound state.

"He is," she replied.

The response seemed to please the other woman. Keeping her focus in front, Hinoki squeezed the heiress' hand. "My dear," she began, "always leave them wanting more."

While Bulla hadn't explicitly told Hinoki who she fancied, it was clear the Souljin Royal put the clues together. Bulla formulated a closed smile upon the realization that Hinoki was helping in her own way. She tore her head away from the dance floor, and looked ahead, squeezing Hinoki's hand in thanks.

Though it took a minute, Goten blinked himself out of his reverie, whisking past the other dancers since he was now without a partner. Still a little dazed from the experience, the half-Saiyan almost walked into brother.

"Whoa!" Gohan kidded. "You good?"

"I'm—"

He was something. Goten just didn't know what.

Marron would look to the side sparingly in between her responses to Zasso as they whisked about the dance floor. Though she was genuinely enjoying her time with the handsome prince, the blonde remained a bit forlorn at how her exchange with Trunks ended.

"Everything alright, Lady Marron?"

Her head spun back to see the golden eyes of the prince observing her with great intent. In his formal armor, they stood out even more than usual. She did her best to brush off any discomfort.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "a little distracted."

Zasso chuckled. "I should be the sorry one," he replied, "I normally am a much better conversationalist but I confess, around you, I seem to forget most words."

Her ocean eyes grew big. There was an earnestness to his tone that gave her pause. "Zasso," Marron said in a lower pitch, "I am flattered by the attention, but I'm confused."

"Oh?" he wondered, as they sashayed between other couples on the floor.

"You're royalty and I'm…" Marron trailed off, her humble beginnings never really bothered her, but ever since arriving to Planet Souljin, she felt the difference.

"You're wonderful," Zasso answered for her.

She was touched by the immediacy of his response. "You're too kind to me," Marron said, her eyes trailing downwards. A sigh graced her lips. "I'm sure there are plenty of Souljin women here who would be a bit more deserving of your time," the Earthling stated.

The tips of his gloved fingers cupped her chin and brought her eyeline back up. "Marron," Zasso commented, dropping the honorific. "You're more deserving than you know," he said kindly.

"Why?" she asked again, still disbelieving.

"There's just something about you," Zasso continued. The prince trailed his other hand over her waist. "The minute I saw you, I was drawn to you like a moth to a flame."

"You're not afraid of getting burned?" the blonde joked.

Zasso leaned in pressing his cheek against hers. "I'll gladly burn for you," he answered.

Marron shivered at his words, feeling rather like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Though it was hard to accept the prince's interest, he clearly was genuine. Clinging to him a little more tightly than before, Marron continued to keep her cheek to his, allowing herself to enjoy the moment.

After a superabundance of fake smiles and forced laughter, Bulla managed to free herself from the circle of council members and wandered over to the food for the first time that evening. Even with her ample experience possessing a Saiyan stomach, she felt more hungry than she had in a long time. Every time she added food to her plate, Bulla would immediately start eating and the cycle would repeat. Normally, she would try to be a little more ladylike, but between her nerves, adrenaline, and appetite she didn't care who saw her.

"Careful Blue, you'll choke on a chicken bone."

Mid-bite, Bulla spun around to see her best friend laughing at the inordinate display. Swallowing hard, the heiress dabbed a napkin on her lips. "Hey no judging," she kidded back, "I've seen you do far worse."

"True," Pan acknowledged, "but never in a dress."

The two women shared a laugh. Their mutual heritage was just one of the things that brought them closer together. It was nice to have someone understand the quirks that came with being of Saiyan descent. Finishing the last piece on her plate, Bulla's eyes darted around to see if Uub had accompanied Pan off the dance floor.

"Where'd Uub go?" she asked as she swallowed.

Pan snorted. "Back into hiding no doubt," she sneered, "those women were so annoying."

A mischievous sparkle shone in Bulla's blue irises. "If I didn't know better, Pan…"

"Kami! Will everyone stop saying that?!"

"It just seemed as if you were jealous," Bulla teased.

"Please," Pan scoffed, "I was doing him a favor. Now you and Uncle Goten on the other hand…"

Her face whitened. "What do you mean?" Bulla tried to play off casually.

"Don't give me that, Blue," Pan said, leaning in further. "We've been long overdue for this conversation. No time like the present."

"I–I mean–"

"Bulla! Spill."

"Pan…"

The two women turned to see Pan's father approaching them. With a brief dip of his head towards Bulla, Gohan refocused his attention on his daughter. "Make sure Grandpa Goku doesn't destroy the buffet, okay?" he instructed, their eyes now darting to the eldest Son heaping piles of food onto his plate at the next station over.

Pan gave a knowing look to Bulla, indicating they weren't done just yet, but bowed to her father respectfully. "On it," she promised, heading in the direction of her grandfather. "Grandpa! That food's for everyone!" the two remaining demi-Saiyans could hear from afar. Both chuckled as Pan faded from view.

Thankful for the save, Bulla offered a gracious nod. "Appreciate that," she acknowledged. Gohan returned a nod of his own.

"You don't owe anyone any explanations," Gohan said encouragingly to the younger woman. A spark of interest flickered in his eyes soon after. "Although, I am curious if my brother was being a gentleman out there," he continued.

Though a bit surprised by the question, evident by the flush of her cheeks, Bulla smiled. Reminiscing about her dance with Goten, she looked up at his brother, confident in her reply.

"Goten is the one guy I never have to worry about," the heiress answered with sincerity.

The devotion in her tone seemed to please Gohan. He smiled at her. "I'm glad to hear it," the scholar added. With a bit of a protective air about him, the older demi-Saiyan continued, "If he ever isn't though, you know where to find me."

Bulla blinked at the response, almost a touch suspicious as to the reason. Though she didn't think Gohan knew many details about her and Goten, part of her wondered what he did know. Even so, his words made him sound approving. That in itself piqued her interest.

Before she had the chance to press further, Bulla observed Gohan's eyes darken as a tall figure shadowed her from behind, interrupting them.

"Princess Bulla," a familiar voice rang.

She swirled around to see the statuesque frame of Prince Toge leering down at her; an expression that could easily be interpreted as predatory. Feigning interest, Bulla bowed with polite restraint. "Prince Toge," the bluette said courteously. The younger half-Saiyan noted Gohan's face still soured in the presence of the Souljin Prince.

"You've been in high demand this evening," Toge said pointedly.

Still trying to be agreeable, Bulla let out a practiced chuckle. "A little bit," she admitted.

His tall stature leaned in further. "Might I be next in line?" Prince Toge asked, extending his hand for her to take.

With a quick glimpse at Gohan, whose expression hadn't changed, Bulla found it an odd sight for someone who was normally so cordial. If he had any qualms, he certainly wasn't vocalizing them, but his visage said much. She glanced across the room to see her father also glancing over with a similar look, yet this was far from out of the ordinary. Bulla could also see the king sitting next to him showing an approving smile in her direction. Not wanting to offend either King Engei or his son, she took Toge's hand and presented a reserved smile.

"One dance," Bulla agreed.

Toge shot a pleased smirk at the Son man, almost as if he sensed his disapproval, and planted a kiss on Bulla's hand. "Lucky me," the middle prince said, now staring deeply into Bulla's blue eyes. Her heart sank at the familiar words, reminding her of what Goten had said exactly earlier that evening.

The Souljin Prince led his dance partner onto the floor, giving one last glance to the still simmering Gohan, feeling rather victorious. Bulla too, looked back to see Gohan's eyes softening with concern as he remained silent, but disapproving nonetheless. As she was guided by Toge, Bulla searched the room for another particular set of eyes belonging to a certain half-Saiyan. The princess frowned in disappointment when she saw the sadness in his charcoal orbs, lamenting that she was likely the cause.

…

Feeling his stomach plummet watching Bulla being led away by Prince Toge, Goten frowned. There was no small amount of wondering what the Souljin had planned. Whatever it was, he knew it couldn't be good.

Goten didn't have a claim to the princess, but the moment they shared earlier gave him a false sense of security that maybe she wouldn't have entertained any other suitors that evening. Maybe he had misread things?

Just as that thought crossed his mind, blue eyes honed in on him from the center of the ballroom. Soundlessly apologizing, Goten could tell that Bulla didn't seem to be as enthused as perhaps she appeared. Her eyes couldn't stay locked on him long, but it was enough to convey the dance wasn't her idea nor her desire.

And that gave him hope.

"Another one."

His ears burned with the voice of his best friend at the bar and judging by his misery, Trunks didn't seem to be in the greatest of moods. With one more longing glance at the princess, Goten started to walk over to try and see what was distressing her brother.

Two shots came by as Trunks downed the first one before Goten joined him.

"You okay?" Goten asked his friend, who threw back the second shot.

Trunks, wiping his mouth with the back of his glove, eyed Goten with an air of suspicion. He hadn't forgotten the earlier exchange between the man and his sister, but despite his unease, Trunks had more pressing things to worry about.

"Fucking princes," Trunks muttered, gesturing to the bar for two more drinks. Upon receipt, he handed one to Goten. Knowing Trunks' mood, the other demi-Saiyan took it without question. The two clinked their glasses and drank the potent spirits.

Goten observed Marron happily dancing in Prince Zasso's arms. While he notoriously teased his two friends about their obvious attraction to one another, it was unlike Trunks to seem so affected by the woman. Perhaps the fact that Marron never really had a true petitioner vying for her romantic whims somehow gave the impression that Trunks didn't have to take much action, if any. Seeing her laugh at whatever commentary Zasso was whispering into her ear, Goten knew that for the first time, his best friend had true competition.

"I'm sorry," was all Goten could manage to say in support. Trunks threw back another drink before he responded.

"It's whatever," Trunks tried to play off. He maneuvered his body around to face the dance floor thinking he had already seen the worst of it. Soon enough, he unleashed another groan. "Fuck, now he's dancing with Bulla?" the heir muttered, already signaling for an additional drink to be brought over. "Zasso's annoying but that guy is a fucking prick," Trunks added with disgust.

"Yeah," Goten uttered in agreement, not taking his eyes off of Bulla and Toge. He didn't dare say too much more than that.

If Goten's ever-increasing ki was any indicator however, there was plenty left unsaid.

…

Once again, Vegeta was subject to watching his daughter in the arms of another man.

It wasn't like he desired to control how she spent her time at the ball. She was an adult. She could make her own choices. She could dance with whoever she wanted to. Likewise, Vegeta could have his opinions.

And his current opinion was that the middle Souljin Prince was putting his hands where they didn't belong…

Bulma had left to go mingle, leaving her husband to his own devices. Vegeta assumed he would seethe in silence this time around, but as the only two at the table, King Engei decided to engage him in conversation.

"Our children look good together, Prince Vegeta," King Engei remarked, smiling as he watched Bulla and Toge dance.

"Hmm," Vegeta didn't give a full response, taking note of how firmly Toge pressed into his daughter's sides.

Clearing his throat, Engei continued the conversation. "May I ask," he began again, "is Princess Bulla promised to anyone?"

This caught Vegeta's attention, prompting him to turn towards the king. "Promised?" he questioned, having a sinking feeling what Engei meant.

"Betrothed," King Engei elaborated, eliciting a scoff from the Saiyan Prince.

"No," Vegeta said curtly. His tone didn't invite further discussion and yet, King Engei decided to press on.

"She's a beautiful young woman," the Souljin King complimented. He smiled when he peered out onto the dance floor once more. "I couldn't help but think perhaps a union between her and one of my sons would be beneficial."

The vein on Vegeta's forehead returned, both in response to Engei's suggestion and Toge's continued exploration of Bulla's figure. He turned sharply to the older man, his expression already saying a thousand words. "My daughter is not some political pawn to be used for alliances, Engei," Vegeta lambasted.

Realizing he was misunderstood, King Engei put a hand up apologetically. "I meant no offense, Prince Vegeta," he said sincerely. Clearing his throat, the king sought to explain himself. "Arranged marriages are commonplace here on Souljin," he clarified, "I just thought…"

Vegeta grunted, his patience wearing thin. "Whatever you thought," the prince retorted, "unthink it."

"I just thought a princess of her caliber deserved to be with a prince, is all I meant, Prince Vegeta. Please forgive me."

The darkened eyes of the Saiyan pureblood zoomed in on his daughter. His chest tightened as he observed her in all her glory. Vegeta was reminded of all the times she insisted on playing make believe as a child, to which the Saiyan Prince would begrudgingly oblige. She truly was a princess in more than name and blood, he thought. His entire life changed the moment she was born. Though he would do anything for his wife and son, Bulla was someone he'd kill for.

Seeing her blue gown glisten in the light, he thought of the lavish childhood party dresses and her insistence on him dancing with her. It was hard to refuse her then, and almost even harder to refuse her now. While Vegeta knew Bulla was no longer that little girl, it was as if stages of her youth flashed before him. The emotion in his gut was somewhat overwhelming, though Vegeta did his darndest to hide.

"Not even a prince is worthy of Bulla," the Saiyan answered poignantly, the quiet love for his daughter evident in every syllable he spoke.

Touched by Vegeta's candor, King Engei smiled. Watching his son twirl Bulla around, an amused thought came to mind. "If not a prince," he posed to the other royal, "then who?"

Before Vegeta could respond, his attention shifted to the spiking energy coming from the other corner of the ballroom. As he scanned the room, he recognized the ki as Goten's, taking note of the man next to his son at the bar. Though Goten's outward manner was calm, he seemed intently fixed on the center of the dance floor. Vegeta followed his eyeline to see that the younger Saiyan was concentrated intently on Bulla and Toge.

Goten must have sensed someone was watching him, because he turned to face Vegeta across the room. The purebred noticed that unlike before, Goten's stare did not waver in the slightest. There was an undercurrent of unease both men could sense. With only a look, the two conveyed the same sentiment: protect Bulla.

While there was a brief understanding between them, Vegeta hadn't completely forgotten his earlier annoyance with the halfling. His wife's words echoed in his head regarding Goten being someone he liked. Like was a strong word. Tolerate was more apt. Still, if given the choice between only two men, Vegeta would take his chances with Kakarot's brat any day.

The angel you know versus the devil you don't.

"I'll admit, I had presumed to see you in Saiyan red this evening, Princess Bulla. Part of why I chose an oxblood cape to match."

His comment brought Bulla's attention back to the tall figure in front of her. Her dance partner seemed practiced no doubt, but she felt out of sync with their movements. The black and gold regalia he sported did indeed have a red cape, and Bulla was ever the more thankful she changed outfits so they hadn't coordinated.

"It didn't feel right…the dress I mean…" she attempted to recover.

"It's just as well," he said, eyeing her body. "You are a vision in any color. Certainly, the belle of the ball, Princess," Toge remarked as they swayed.

A weak smile returned while the heiress shook her head. "I wouldn't say that," she responded modestly.

"Nonsense," Toge dismissed as he pulled her in. Whispering into her ear, Toge added, "All eyes have been on you this evening. Understandably so. Who wouldn't want the chance to be with the Saiyan Princess?"

Bulla found it hard to welcome his clear attempts at flattery. She entertained it well enough earlier in the week, but her heart wasn't in it. Truthfully, it never had been.

"I'm just your typical woman," the princess continued.

Toge leaned over, his tail curling around her waist to bring her closer to him. "Nothing typical about you," he murmured in her ear. Were he a different man, Bulla may have been susceptible to such charms, but whatever veneer Toge initially portrayed was coming undone by the seams. Bulla knew what sort of game he was trying to play with her, and thankfully, she had better sense than to try and play it.

The bluette made an attempt to lean back and create some space, but the grip both his arms and tail had her in was stronger than she anticipated. It unsettled her.

"Toge," she started to say, but was interrupted.

"You've such a gorgeous figure, Princess," Toge continued. While Bulla's backside was hidden from the head table, the middle prince took advantage of absent eyes prying. His large hand snaked over her, firmly cupping her rear with a possessiveness that was unearned. "I'd give my left arm to see more of it."

Immediately, Bulla's eyes shot wide open. It was plain on her face the growing disgust, as she successfully managed to remove his fingers from her posterior.

"You're being a bit too familiar, Toge," she chided, struggling to mask the contempt in her timbre. The comment didn't seem to deter him as much as amuse him.

"Oh?" he responded with a pleased scoff. "Here I thought we were becoming better acquainted," Toge laughed, his tail still wrapped around her.

"Do all your 'acquaintances' have to deal with your hands on them?"

"Usually, there's no objection."

He spun her out and pulled in tight, seizing her in an even stronger hold. Bulla was aware that Toge was an anomaly compared to most Souljin men when it came to his strength, though part of her thought her Saiyan blood would give her an advantage. Clearly, Bulla had underestimated the man. Her heartbeat quickened its pace. The nerves and unease nipping her insides.

"Toge," she said warningly.

The middle prince bent over and placed his lips to her ear. "If I'm too familiar," he said darkly, "it's only because I'm all too familiar with your type, Princess."

There was a quiet rage brewing within, and the daughter of Vegeta was seconds away from boiling over. "And what type is that?" she asked, almost regretting it.

Boldly, Toge returned his hand to her rear, attempting to make a claim to it once more.

"The kind that has yet to be broken in," he answered, unashamed at his vulgarity. "Believe me when I say I'm equipped for such an undertaking. You only have to ask."

With the pretense of cordiality tossed out the window, Bulla fumed and found the strength to remove both his hands and tail from her person. It took a practiced amount of effort to not make a scene and ruin everyone's evening, but Bulla did not want to give Toge the satisfaction of that. She was Bulla Briefs; she suffered no fools. Still, she made her feelings very clear at that moment.

"Thankfully Prince Toge," Bulla uttered through clenched teeth, "you'll never get that chance."

Inside she was screaming, but Bulla retreated with a quiet dignity, making a beeline through the crowd to the balcony overlooking the water gardens. As she left, Toge's taunting laughter haunted her steps.

…

Goten shifted from his spot as he watched Bulla exit onto the terrace. While he wasn't sure exactly what happened, clearly something was amiss. Though she kept her composure, the spike in Bulla's ki told him all he needed to know. He half-expected his friend to make a comment but Trunks had stopped watching the display, instead focusing on a fourth round of drinks. Even Vegeta had been dragged out from the head table by King Engei and was distracted from what occurred. With everyone else seemingly occupied, Goten was the only one to witness her leaving.

Intent on following her, the demi-Saiyan marched in her direction without question. He was nearly successful too, until his path was blocked by the very person Bulla seemed to be escaping.

Furrowed brows greeted Prince Toge who looked as cocky as ever with his arms crossed. "Those famous Saiyan temperaments," he clucked.

The smirk on his face grew wider, clearly attempting to get a rise out of Goten. Yet, the hybrid seemed determined to not let the Souljin Prince rile him up as he once again tried to pass by. Just as before, Toge sidestepped to halt the halfling.

"It's to be expected," Toge continued, obviously not deterred by the lack of reaction. He gazed at Goten with a dark countenance. "An inexperienced woman such as herself would be overwhelmed by the touch of a real man for the first time," he added.

Goten maintained his glare, still doing what he could to avoid engaging with the other man, but Toge was making it difficult. "I do wonder though," Toge resumed, "if she tastes as good as she felt."

Spinning around, Goten's charcoal eyes intensified their glower. Toge had his fill of taunting the previous evening and the hybrid was in no mood for a repeat performance.

"Don't talk about Bulla that way," he commanded, sparing no venom in his voice.

"Have I touched a nerve, little Saiyan?"

"Say whatever about me, Toge. I can take it. But I won't let you disrespect her."

"What? As if you haven't thought the same thing?" Prince Toge laughed. The middle prince merely scoffed with amusement. "Come now," Toge sneered. "I think we're past the point of denial, Son Goten. You're more like me than you realize."

"I'm nothing like you," Goten responded contemptuously.

Trying to pass by for a third time, Goten felt his shoulder checked by the Souljin royal. "That's where you're mistaken," Toge said in a low tone. "You want a taste of the princess just as badly," he added, "there's no hiding it. I can see it all over your face."

"Look," the hybrid snarled, "you've clearly had your fun. I'm in no mood to argue. Move or I'll move you across the room."

"Finally, a threat! I was beginning to think you were a defunct halfbreed."

"Toge," Goten growled, "let me pass."

"You still haven't answered."

"I mean it. I'm not going to tell you again."

"Fine," the prince relented, adjusting his body. He jeered derisively, something clearly amusing to him crossing his thoughts. Goten started to dart past him. "It's just as well," Toge said. The vagueness was enough to pause the hybrid.

Bending in closer, Toge whispered, "You can stretch her out first with that third-class tool of yours."

Something snapped inside at those words.

Goten could hardly control his fist rearing back to strike the prince, but the impeccable timing of his father passing by prevented such a scandal from occurring.

"Whoa! Hold up, Goten," Goku said, grabbing his son's wrist. The momentary inner storm quashed itself as soon as Goten heard his father's voice soothe and stay him. Heaving through his nostrils, the demi-Saiyan attempted to calm himself.

Goku shot a confused look at the younger man. "What's gotten into you?" he wondered, gently releasing the wrist after a suitable amount of time.

The younger Saiyan's glare could have pierced through the thickest of stone. Never taking his eyes off Toge, Goten responded, "Prince Toge made some inappropriate remarks."

"About you?" Goku blinked, knowing that Goten was far from rash.

His son turned his focus from the Souljin Prince to him. "About Bulla," Goten spat malevolently.

Suddenly, it hit Goku why Goten was upset. With his own face hardening from the typical cheerful demeanor, the eldest Son looked expectantly at Toge. "Is this true, Toge?" the pureblood wondered. His voice had grown more stern, equally as protective.

"A misunderstanding," Toge tried to placate with a wave of his hand. "I think perhaps my turn of phrase may have been taken the wrong way."

"That's bullsh–"

"Goten," Goku put his hand on his shoulder to calm his son once more. Still keeping a serious face, the Saiyan returned his attention to Toge. "Whatever it was," he began again, "I wouldn't say it again, Prince Toge. Especially about a lady."

Unfazed by the warning, Toge bowed almost mockingly. "You humble me, Son Goku," the Souljin Commander said with faux candor. "Perhaps not all of the Saiyans are prone to violent tendencies," he added with a wink to Goten.

Before Goten could react, Toge passed by the two men bidding them adieu. "Enjoy the rest of the ball," he said with a menacing grin that only served to irk the half-Saiyan further.

Clenching his fist, Goten gritted his teeth. "It wasn't a misunderstanding," he tried to justify to his father, but Goku returned his hand to Goten's shoulder.

"I know, Son," the pureblood assured. "You don't get worked up over nothing," Goku continued.

There was some small relief to be had with his father's insight. Feeling a bit ashamed at his lack of control, the hybrid dipped his head. "Sorry I almost lost my temper there," Goten apologized, "appreciate you deescalating things."

Goku's signature grin came back to his face. "Usually it's Vegeta I'm calming down," he said with a laugh. "Guess it's a good thing he's occupied," he added, glancing across the room at his old friend being introduced to different officials.

Goten still seemed disappointed in his behavior, keeping his head low. Again, Goku placed a reassuring hand on him. "I'm glad you're protective over your friends, Goten," he praised, "let's just try to not make a scene while we're here. Okay?"

Nodding, his son agreed and patted the hand on his shoulder in thanks. "Understood," Goten promised.

Goku relinquished his friendly grip, allowing Goten a bit of space. "Now that that's settled," he said changing the subject, "there's plenty of dessert waiting to be eaten! Better get some before they run out!"

Taking off towards the buffet for perhaps the fifth time that evening, Goku left his son to his own devices. Goten couldn't help but smile in amusement at the ability his father possessed to be so simultaneously carefree yet serious when it mattered most. It was something he deeply respected about the man. Goten did his best to emulate all the best parts of Goku, but it was a tough shadow to stand in. Still, he admired the man's aptitude for knowing the right thing to say.

His eyes darted to his fist, still clenched and shaking. It had been eons since something set off Goten that significantly, and part of him wondered what sort of trouble he would have caused were it not for Goku's intervention. The younger halfling sighed. He couldn't be sure if it was just protectiveness that prompted him to respond in that manner or white hot anger, but it wasn't normal for him, that much was certain.

Still, when he saw that twinge of pain on Bulla's face as she had darted outside, it evidently was all the motivation he needed.

Realizing there were no further barriers in his path, Goten set out towards the balcony, intent on making sure Toge's harsh words hadn't soured Bulla's night.

The two moons of Souljin were full and bright, a glorious backdrop to the splendor of the gardens.

Both Bulla and Goten were the only occupants on the balcony, not so unlike the night months before. With the noise of the ballroom becoming fainter as he walked the vast terrace overlooking the water gardens, Goten approached the edge until he was paused by the beauty before him.

It was a familiar image; the heiress leaning over a railing, admiring the moons overhead. Drenched in silver starlight and shadow, the sheer blue dress she wore only served to illuminate her further.

From behind, it was hard to deduce her expression, but Goten heard Bulla emit a faint sigh, indicating some evident frustration. Though he had merely observed the previous altercation from afar, her proud demeanor underlied a marked frustration. Goten knew she was upset, carrying an untold burden that even he couldn't begin to try to understand. It tore at him.

He never wanted her unhappy.

Striding with purpose, Goten made his way next to her at the railing, leaning over and looking up at the twin Souljin moons, making just enough noise to not startle her. As soon as she felt his presence, Bulla's posture seemed more relaxed than before, a wave of peace washing over her.

The princess turned to her companion, whose eyes met hers with a reverence that warmed the inside of her bones.

"Hi," Goten murmured, a callback to their earlier greeting on the dance floor. Bulla smiled softly.

"Hi," she returned in a similar manner.

The quiet melody of the streams and nighttime fauna echoed in the distance, a soundtrack of tranquility that only served to set the mood. Bulla tucked a string of loose hair behind her ear, allowing a perfect view of her face. Goten's breath hitched at the sight of her. It almost distracted him from his task at hand, but when her smile faded back to a straight, thin line he was reminded why he followed the heiress onto the terrace.

Goten leaned further over the railing and gazed down at the water gardens. "Toge is scum," he said, sparing no contempt for the man.

The wryest chuckle escaped Bulla's lips, amused by the accuracy of the statement.

"It's funny," she began, staring up at the twin moons. Goten turned to face her as she kept her cerulean eyes pointed towards the sky. "Even before you said anything, I just had a feeling about him," Bulla continued. Another small scoff emanating out from her mouth. "Should've just refused the dance but didn't want to be rude in front of the king," she explained.

Bulla returned her attention to the man at her side. "Silly, I know," she said with a mocking grin.

The ebony-haired halfling knew her self-effacing demeanor was a ruse. Her attempt at humor only belied the true discomfort underneath. While Goten understood the defense mechanism, it saddened him too. He faced the gardens once more, the serenity clashing with the inner turmoil he was sure Bulla was experiencing. Tilting downwards, Goten uttered softly.

"Always trust your intuition, Bulla," the older man stated. Raising his eyes to meet hers, he offered a comforting smile. "It'll never lead you astray," Goten promised.

Feeling a familiar heat build in her belly, Bulla's lips parted to reply, but was stalled by his genuine advice. Eventually, she managed to form her own grin. "Thanks Goten," the heiress responded.

A pleased hum of silence came over them. The two resumed observing the magnificence of the water gardens. While Goten was distracted, Bulla inched over to be closer to him, his nostrils stinging with her perfume as they were elbow to elbow. She kept her focus straight but lowered her head gently to rest on his muscular arm. Breathing a sigh of relief, Bulla felt infinitely more at peace.

Looking down, Goten was surprised at the forwardness, but enjoyed the action nevertheless. His attention quickly concentrated on the moons above, pleading in silence for the same courage Bulla so evidently showed. The fluttering of his heartbeat sounded as loud as a drum in his head, but Bulla seemed unperturbed.

As he stepped back, Bulla lifted her head in surprise, worried she may have been too cavalier. All fear was quashed once Goten extended the same arm back towards her to take. His calming presence and handsome grin solidified this.

"Walk a bit with me?" he invited the bluette.

Absorbing the words, Bulla hesitated just for a moment until realization dawned on her. Just the two of them…strolling together in the moonlight…

How could she say no?

The Saiyan Princess smiled back and snaked both her arms around his. Bulla raised her turquoise eyes to the dark irises she adored so much. "Happy to," she answered with confidence.

Emboldened by her certainty, Goten didn't hold in his toothy grin, drawing her close as they meandered towards the stairway leading to the water gardens. Enjoying the sensation, Bulla tightened her grip on the brawny man. She felt so safe with Goten, so womanly. With him, it was easy to forget the night's earlier events.

Bulla could smell the scent of his cologne and his usual musk mixed together, but another fragrance permeated the atmosphere. It was a scent that had become more familiar to the princess over the past few weeks during her shower time. The recognition caused her face to heat, as well as another part of her entirely. While hope hung in the nighttime air, Bulla knew all too well the other sensation that lingered there too–

Desire.

Chapter ten…and THENNNNNN…

Hehe you'll have to find out the next chapter!

Chapter 11: The second half of the ball finds Goten and Bulla alone in the water gardens with no one to distract them–no telling what could happen. We also check in with a few other characters back in the ballroom.

But thank you all for the support! It's only going to heat up from here, but it's still a slow burn so I'll be easing you all in ;)