Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Reason vs feelings ❯ First Impressions ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or its characters.

After having left my room, I moved quickly towards the Banquet Hall. I wasn't really late but couldn't delay my apparition any longer, it would be an insult towards our guests and, as much as I had wanted to avoid this arrangement, it was already too late to complicate things with this kind of incidents.

I could see how feverish the whole palace was. Servants seemed to be rushing everywhere. Since my father crowning, never had a previous event been so crucial. I was sure to be the only one not bouncing off the walls at the moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I make my way through the massive blocks of gray stone constituting the labirynthic corridors, heels clicking rhythmically at each footstep. Maybe it's just the lack of light, but everything look gloomier. In fact, the presence of wall sconces seems to make it darker, since beyond the confines of brightness all is utterly shadowy.

I wonder why, with all the technology and luxury we possess, my father never picked out better lighting. Maybe he wished to keep the straight-out-of-Medieval-age look particular to this wing of the palace. Or maybe he never though about this kind of details. For my part, I used to think it gave a fairy-like aspect and loved to wander around. Now, I feel constricted by its somber atmosphere and the caustic reek carried in the air, like a sense of doom is pervading every inch of the place.

I unconsciously fasten my pace until I reach the eastern staircase, which curves and bifurcates from the entrance hall into a double horseshoe in a marble sweep. Quickly striding downstairs, I pass helmeted and cuirassed lined soldiers of the royal guard, their red and gold uniforms adding to the glitter of the evening.

With every step towards the Banquet Hall, I begin to feel very self-conscious of the hectic ambiance which seems to seep throughout this area of the palace. I can hear soft notes of classical music, light footsteps and muffled voices of people mumbling and chattering. I stop in front of two-folding massive doors, my stomach slightly churning, and almost jump when a deep and bubbly laugh rises from around the doorframe.

The royal guard at my left shots me a discreet sideway glance, obviously wondering what I'm waiting for. I wrinkle up my noise with disdain, putting up again a composed and perfect façade, while hoping no one has noted how I had been fidgeting with the smooth fabric of my dress. A nervous gesture I could never get rid of.

With an almost imperceptible motion from one of the guards, the automatic heavy doors swing open with relative ease, and almost every eye in the room is glued to me immediately, the atmosphere seeming to have become curiously quiet all of sudden.

I plaster a fake polite smile on my face and walk measurably across the vast and opulent Banquet Hall, without haste and with unhurried purpose, the sea of people surrounding me splitting into two. As I move over a floor laid with ivory and gold, conversations begin again little by little, but on more trivial subjects. I can still sense hundred of eyes on me, watchful, expectantly, passively waiting for events to unfold. And there's such a tangible tension in the air that I wince slightly.

The guests talkative faces repel me suddenly. They are nothing but a bunch of obscene masks applied to filthy thoughts, ulterior motives and conniving machinations. Their hypocrite bows and perfidious smiles make me want to howl. I see in all of them a band of mute conspirators coiling a tight web around me for their calculated sneaky plan to succeed. They are all leagued on this arranged marriage, no one is innocent.

But the anger building inside of me is quickly alleviated as I discern a fierce glinting in my father's blue eyes and I smile inwardly thinking of the adamantine rage that seems to consume him. I'm only a few steps away but he obviously can't wait for a tongue lashing as he walks briskly up to me, a disgruntled crinkle appearing at the corner of his thin mouth.

- "It's about time, Princess. You are late!" he says, his discontent apparent in the cold, clipped tone of his rough voice. I can neither miss the emphasize he puts on my title. It's an unmistakable reminder of the reason why I'm here.

- "Such a behavior should not be forgiven. Do you really want this arrangement to fail?" he asks, his voice deepening to a low bass. There's a perceptible edge on his tone which suggests he doesn't expect to be answered but I'm unable to bite my tongue.

- "Is an answer necessary, father?" I say with sarcasm, perfectly controlling my voice and feeling really prideful of it. His expression hardens. He hasn't either let slip the unasked question I put through the word father : How can you do this to me, your only daughter?

- "Don't even think about starting!" he warns me, two small wrinkles misshaping the apparent serenity of his features "You already blemished our reputation enough like this. Now, behave!"

His intense glare tells I better not ruin this for him. My face goes stony as he spins around in the soft rustle of clothe and hurriedly retraces his steps down the length of the room. I silently follow him, my eyes burning a hole in the back of the resplendent purple and gold outfit he's wearing. I'm only fashionably late, no need to blow off steam. Anyway, I know he's right over one thing at least : it's neither the place nor the moment to begin an argument.

Thus, with grace and dignity, I picked up my pace and sidled up to his side. As we approach the dais upon which four thrones are set, I look up, with an odd mixture of unbearable curiosity and lingering apprehension, towards the platform's top holding the kings seats. On the occupied light-colored marble and ruby quartz throne, sat a very lordly man, whom I assume must be King Vegeta.

In all his fearsome glory, from his superior stance to his cold and arrogant manners, the tall and broad king upheld an innate aura of imperious authority and higher power which seems impossible to withstood. Even his brown hair is impressive, sweeping up in flame-shaped prominent widow's peaks, it seems to defy gravity itself.

Suddenly, he spots us and cool onyx eyes bore into mines before checking me out with patent interest. I feel like a piece of meat under the stare of a starving beast.

- "So, this is your brat?" he questions my father in a voice laden with haughty contempt, and I tense hearing the word he uses to design me. Brat? Could he really ignore the name of the person to whom he bethroded his son?

- "Yes, she's my daughter, Princess Bulma... Bulma, this is King Vegeta..."

- "My Lord" I greet, forcing the proper amount of respect into my tone that's expected, while bowing slightly. I'm certain my father is really pleased by my obedience.

- "... and his son, Prince Vegeta" he motions to the person at King Vegeta's right who's sitting in another throne, on the next step down.

I dare stare at my future husband and my eyes almost wide in awe. Reminding the King by his name, the Prince is not only an extension of his father but as well his carbon copy. Though, I already note some differences other than the obvious age gap. Like the reddish highlights in the Prince's ebony hair or his smallest height.

As I salute him, I notice he doesn't reciprocate, his demeanor imbued with disdain. A superior smug look is smeared across his face and he stares down at me with the coldest darkness I ever saw in someone's eyes.

- "What do you think, son?" King Vegeta asks while stroking his bearded chin lightly.

- "Hmph... She will do" he says in an icy and emotionless voice, with an aristocratic turning up of his sharp nose. Then, crossing his arms over his chest, he looks away like I'm of no further interest.

His words and behavior are almost insulting, remaining just beneath the thinnest limit of affront, and I feel frozen by the implications. He obviously doesn't want me any more than I want him. I'm merely a vessel to bear his offspring whom would link our families forever. My wishes or fears don’t matter at all for this bigheaded sorry excuse of a rotten Prince. A Prince, what a joke. A true Prince has at least some respect for the persons of his station.

King Vegeta takes his son's answer with a raised eyebrow then gaze at my father, who harbors an almost indiscernible frown.

- "It's propitious that we deal with you, King Aldevar. For you sure have your people's best interest at heart" he says sternly before his lips curves upward, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. But it can't, in any case, be mistaken for a smile.

- "So, why don't we start celebrating this auspicious occasion now that your brat has finally graced us with her presence?" the Saya-jin ruler adds, his tone deliberately lighter although the hard glance he drops on me is rather admonitory.

As quickly, my father calls for dinner to be served and walks with King Vegeta towards the giant head table. I follow with the snotty Prince at my side, his navy blue cape, attached to his armor's shoulder pads, fluttering behind. Slowly, everyone begins to take place along the numerous and amazingly dressed banquet tables, on which arrays of the greatest food known in Tekriehl are being laid.

I sit down on the gold trimmed high-backed chair, welcoming the cozy red velvet cushion. My father, at my right, presides the table with King Vegeta, also flanked by his son. As I look around, I wonder how we have managed to settle all those people and still have a vast dance area left. The Banquet Hall is of a rather immense extend but it seems like everyone who's anyone in the Empire has turned out for tonight's feast.

The lavish dinner goes rather well. Everyone seems to enjoy the delicacy dishes but I'm utterly surprised with the startling amount of food ingested by the Saya-jin delegation, each one consuming about 10 times what a normal person would eat daily. Every table is filled with conversations and laughing, exquisite wines and sparkling champagne making our guests loosen up and giving the banquet a more lively dimension. Still, considering the sulky mood this situation has me in, I'm merely listening to whatever it's said. Instead, I keep sneaking glances at my future husband, trying to amass as much information as I can but his composure is quiet impermeable. And, when this part of the feast it's over, I feel really relieved.

As soon, a large crowd of people starts to gather at the dance area, talking innocently amongst themselves. But I know it won't last. In practice, this kind of events quickly slopes in a venomous pit of snakes. High ranked peoples always seem to be fighting for position or influence, even if it's done in the subtlest of ways. Sometimes the faces changes but never does the game. Tonight, it's going to be worst due to King Vegeta presence and I'm already sick of it.

- "Father, I feel the air is too heavy in here. If you excuse me, I would like to go outside" I said, leaning slightly over him, my voice's softness belied by a very audible insistency.

- "Of course. But make sure to come back for some dancing" he agrees with a frail smile but I can tell by the sourness of his tone and the slight stoop of his shoulders that he's not thrilled.

I work my way diligently through the dense crowd offering commiserations and murmured congratulations, to which I respond with a brief smile or an inclination of the head. Slipping outside into the large adjacent balcony overlooking the gardens, I'm glad to find that no one has already wandered over here. I breath in the chilly air, the nighty breeze carrying the crisp smell of autumn leaves.

Then I amble towards the ivory rail and rest my forearms on it, the stone's coolness causing me to shiver. I feel so emotionally drained. It's like something has wrenched all my desires and exhausted all my hope. Sighing heavily, I gaze up at the sky, which is strewed with twinkling points of pins. Suddenly, a shooting star streaks across, its blazed trail lighting up night's dome.

I close my eyes, fold my hands together in prayer-like fashion and make a wish on this falling celestial body. Maybe it's childish but I'm quite desperate. I don't know how I will be able to live without Yamcha. I would give anything to be reunited with my soul mate. And that's exactly what I plead for.

"Be careful what you wish for, girl" says someone close behind me, shocking me out of my thoughts. As I turn around, I already know to whom this cold and unpleasant voice belongs. A few steps ahead, Prince Vegeta stands straight and stoic, arms crossed over his chest and an emotionless expression hardening the sharp edges of his face.

Anger slowly quenches my sadness, for not only has he disturbed my quietness but also addressed me like a simple commoner. I chew at my innards, concentrating hard in keeping my hostility in check, then I say with an underlying irritation :

- "I don't understand what you are talking about, Prince Vegeta"

He sneers, depthless coal eyes voids of any joy darting upon me, before a smirk curls over his lips.

- "Do not lie. It's a disservice to yourself" he says with a slight accent in his words. I stiffen in an attitude of dignity and feel the impassive mask covering my face extend to all my body like a carapace.

- "What... " I begin but stop as quickly the lie about to get out. Denial it's not an option. Whatever crap I would try to feed him, I'm sure he won't swallow. There's a wild intelligence in his orb's depths that tells me so.

I wince inwardly. I can't talk to him about Yamcha. There's no point in telling him anything. So, I just decide to drop the subject.

- "What are you doing out? Shouldn't you be talking with my father and the court's members?" I ask with faint interest, not without a point of venom below.

- "Shouldn't you be attending the reception instead of hiding here like a coward? I had at least expected that a Princess worthy of her title could handle the rigors of this kind of events" he says with the annoyance of a man who doesn't like to be questioned, and his mouth produces such an impression of arrogance that it feels as if each one of his words are falling downwards lower creatures.

- "Well, I had at least expected that a Prince worthy of his title could have some manners. Looks like we were both mistaken" I reply instantly through gritted teeth, my temper's grip having been totally wasted by this intolerable asshole.

He stays silent but his thoughts are crystal clear : I could care less. Then, for a second, I see his dark pits gleam with something I can't name, but it vanishes too quickly for me to really register and I'm only left with the cold stare of his unreadable eyes. They are assessing me, partly dissimulated behind his smooth brown lashes, and nothing in his demeanor lets me believe he's going to break this uncomfortable silence any soon.

- "What do you want, Prince Vegeta?" I ask finally, unable to stand his scrutiny any longer, my voice void of the exasperation which is clearly apparent on my features.

- "What makes you assume I want something from you?" he says rudly.

I pull my head slightly back, to have a better sight of his frame, and I try hopelessly to study him for a moment, unable to decide how to answer. He really seems to personify cold calculus and inhuman speculation, and he obviously like to play mind games.

- "Well, what are you doing here then?" I inquire dryly, making an effort to outline an informal gesture.

- "Obviously you are too dense to understand that the reason I didn't answer you previously is because it's none of your business... but as you want so badly to know about my presence here, I would just say that I couldn't suffer the weak inhabitants of you forsaken planet any longer, so I came here. Too bad I had to run into the noisiest and most tedious one" he says, raising his chin smugly, his features not altering of an inch.

- "So why do you even bother talking to me?" I ask matter-of-factly, ignoring the spur of hatred his words trigger.

- "I just wanted to see how annoying you truly were before taking you as my wife" he says, with a shade of evilness, his lips quirking up into a slim grin.

I stare blank at the jerk in front of me, clenching my jaw tightly to prevent the string of insults that's threatening to come out. I hate this arrogant prick, it's official. I can't believe my father he's going to make me marry this conceited bastard.

Abruptly, I whirl around and focus on the inky firmament, hoping he would just walk away. But, instead, he steps closer.

- "So, what did you wish for, girl?" he demands lowly, his icy voice hardly relenting, scraping a chill down my spine. I step aside, feeling awkward by his proximity. I wait the time of one or two heart's beats then decide I'd better spit it out.

- "I wished for our marriage to never happen" I confess then steal a cautious glance at the short yet stocky Prince. Anger is what I expect but it's that same insufferable smirk he graces me with.

- "It makes no difference for me whenever you want or not this union. It's merely a political arrangement that my father negotiated and which fulfills my race needs with the least amount of inconveniences"

- "And you always do what your father says? Yet you don't look like a follower" I state, the words bolting out before I realize it. As soon, his eyes become pits of black fire flashing savagely and his predatory features express something similar to animosity.

- "Don't presume you know me just because we exchange some words, girl. I'm only doing this because it actually suits my designs. My father knows better than to ask for something I would utterly disagree" he says with a voice as hard as metal.

- "What about feelings?... did you never want to marry someone you actually love?" I ask, trying to control my voice as much as possible because I know I'm venturing on thin ice.

He scoffs ruthlessly, his posture exuding more arrogance than I though possible for someone to sustains.

- "Feelings are for weaks. They are an open door giving to your soul, rendering you vulnerable and love... it's just a fabrication, a lie" he says, revealing through his harsh tone how much he despises this idea.

My eyes wide in astonishment and I feel a frozen ball growing in my stomach. I don't know what I expected with my question but it's certainly not such an awful answer.

- "You can't be serious! I loved my former boyfriend and it was the most marvelous experience of my existence"

- "Then, you are weak" he snarls, his fierce stare boring into my eyes reprovingly.

My lips quiver with anger and I must press them together and wait before answering, like this simple muscular effort would help me to regain my composure.

Of a sudden, he starts to spin on his heels, obviously ready to walk away from our conversation. But I still need some answers, so I extend my arm towards his shoulder... and I'm stopped in mid air by his hand lashing out with incredible speed, his fingers folding roughly around my wrist and causing me to gasp out loud. I find myself unable to move while he holds me a hairbreadth away from his chest, feeling an almost incredible surge of power emanates from him. And all words I had planned on telling are drowned as soon in my fear.

- "Don't you ever try to touch me without my consent!" he hisses, his voice dropping down into a deadly pitch and his cruel unwelcome black orbs flashing furiously "Now listen, wench, and listen well because I will not repeat myself again... Don't suppose I care at all about you because of our impending marriage. In fact, I would be better off without a spoiled and whining little weakling of a wife to get in my way. But I need an heir and that's merely where you fit in. It's that clear?"

I nod, unable to find my voice, still dismayed to have awaken such hostility when I had just hoped to obtain more responses. As soon, the pressure of his grasp lessens and I snatch back my hand. As he waltzes away, I can't tear my eyes from him, incredulous as how quickly he has shifted from the coldness of a spirit wholly on the defensive to a fire burning with a vertiginous hatred.

When he reaches the Banquet Hall's entrance, he stops and turns half an inch, peering over his shoulders, his unmoving glare on me like a feline ready to leap.

- "Never forget that you aren't unexpendable" he says in a voice as icy as death before disappearing inside the crowded room.

And a shiver passes through me, a special and complementary shiver, adding to the ice already running inside my veins, as a single thought pops up in my mind : I'm going to have to marry this cold monster.


**************************************************** *************************************************************************** ************************************

~ Hope you liked this chapter but don't forget to let me know what you think. I don't think I will be able to writte next chapter before a month or two because I'm pretty busy lately. Still, I will do my best. ~

**************************************************************** *************************************************************************** ************************