Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unfaithful ❯ Part One: 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

..................................U N F A I T H F U L

................................................................ ...................Rhapsody~*



________________________~* Part One*~: Memories
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Bulma could be found early the next morning strolling through the palace gardens with Nataliah, her longtime handmaiden. The thought of traveling alone with Yamcha to Vejitasei made her feel an aching loneliness deep inside. Soon enough, she could have Yamcha as her only companion, with the exception of Nataliah. Earth's queen deemed it high time that she got to know her maid a little bit better, or suffer the lonely consequences.

Nataliah had been 'given' to her on her seventeenth birthday, as was traditional with most young girls. Having a maid was a sign of wealthiness and fortune, and Lady Briefs had never been one to pinch pennies for the sake of reputation. Bulma had never known much about her until she asked her about her home one time years ago-- she was from the other side of Earth, someplace in central Russia.

Nataliah was about Bulma's age. She had long, straight brown hair that she usually braided away from her face when she was working, and hazel eyes to match. She wasn't what someone would have called pretty, just decent. Bulma's mother saw to it that she looked at least second-class and provided her with plain, dull-colored dresses suitable to her station.

Bulma hadn't ever talked with her maid very much, as some of the other girls did. She even knew a few who had gone so far as to confide their innermost feelings to their maids. But to Bulma, Nataliah had always been the enemy, a willing accomplice of her mother. She had been mistaken, she realized as she spoke quietly with the girl. It had never occured to her that Nataliah had had a life before coming to serve her.

"Are you happy here, with me?" Bulma asked a bit timidly, plucking a magnolia off of its tree and caressing it with her gloved fingers. "It must not be very pleasant to never see your family."

Nataliah hesitated to answer, which Bulma could understand. She must have been afraid that she might insult Bulma with her comments. "I suppose so. My family was quite poor, so I could never have had the kinds of clothes I have now, nor the beautiful shelter." She lifted her face to the palace and smiled. "If my sisters could see me now, they would never believe it."

Bulma frowned, feeling a pang of sympathy for her handmaiden. She had ripped her away from her family and all that she had held dear. Bulma had never known what it was like to have a supportive, loving family, but she imagined that it must have been wonderful. Now Nataliah was somewhat like her-- without friends or anyone to talk to, with the possible exception of the occasional cook or butler.

"I would have never accepted you as my handmaiden if I had known that you had a family," Bulma assured her, letting the magnolia drop to the cobbled ground and get swept away by the warm breeze. "I would have had my mother search for someone who had nothing else to do with their life."

"It was not your choice to make, my lady," Nataliah hurried to correct her. "Your mother mentioned to my father that she was looking for a specific kind of person, a quiet person who would give her no trouble. She claimed that she could find no one else. Do not worry, my home was not one that was full of opprotunity for a girl like me."

Bulma offered a shaky smile, but made no reply. As far as she knew, her mother could have purposely ripped the girl away from her family. She wouldn't have put it past her. They reached the end of the gardens and found themselves in front of the large maze that Yamcha's father had constructed out of rose bushes for the amusement of the courtiers who wished to go for a stroll. Bulma lifted the skirts of her pretty white dress, embroidered with tiny red rosebuds along the waist and bust, and stepped in, savoring the heavy smell of fresh roses. Nataliah lifted her own powder blue skirt and followed her.

"Forgive me for prying," she began timidly. "But I overheard one of King Yamcha's servants say that you were to leave for Vejitasei tomorrow morning. Is this true?"

"Yes," Bulma admitted bitterly. "Yamcha craves some action. He is planning to stage a treaty with the Saiyans to bide time for preparations. I am being made to go with him, so that he can wear me on his arm like an accessory, no doubt."

"My lady, if there is anything--"

"If you don't mind, I mean to take you with me," Bulma informed her, stopping at a fork in the path. She studied each way, then went to the right. "I would very much like to have a companion."

The two young women shared warm smiles, and for the first time in years, Bulma felt as if she had a friend.
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The Queen and her handmaiden wandered the maze for a half an hour before finally rounding a corner to meet the center. Bulma always loved to come here-- the white stone benches and beautiful rose bushes made a perfect spot for daydreaming. She could remember herself coming here and sitting in the warm sun (but not long enough to tan, of course) and pretending that she was a little peasant girl who was late for her playdate with a friend. Being late had been an integral part of her childhood, so why not daydream about it?

"M'lady," Nataliah warned under her breath, stopping Bulma from rounding the corner to the center of the maze. "I can hear voices!"

Bulma nodded and moved beside Nataliah, where she could hear a little better. She smiled at the thought that even noblewomen weren't entirely unknown to eavesdrop. But as soon as she recognized the voices, she was sorry that she had done so.

"But, King Yamcha, your wife--" Bulma recognized the soft, breathy voice of one of Yamcha's personal assisants, Anyce. She lifted her chin and moved to a thin spot in the rosebushes so that she could see the two.

Yamcha hushed her. "My wife doesn't have to know..."

Nataliah gave a little gasp behind her as Yamcha leaned forward to kiss the young servant. At first, she made no response, but then relaxed and responded to Bulma's husband, sticking her dirty little hands in places that they should never have ventured. Bulma would have been jealous, if she had felt an iota of compassion for Yamcha in her heart, but instead felt sorry for Anyce. She would be banished from the palace in a matter of hours. Yamcha never failed to get rid of the evidence. The Queen stepped back from the rosebush and motioned for Nataliah to follow her. The handmaiden took one last bewildered look, then hurried after her mistress.

"Your Majesty, aren't you going to do something?" she asked anxiously.

"It is pointless now," Bulma told her wearily, brushing a rose petal off of her skirts. "If I had thought that to be a wise action, I would have began interuppting him long ago."

"If you can forgive me saying this, lady," Nataliah began. "You are the most beautiful woman in the universe-- everyone knows that-- so why would the king need to... to commit adultery?"

Bulma smiled tightly at her handmaiden. "No woman will ever completely understand what is going on in the mind of her husband, and I am certainly no exception. But if I had to make a wager-- I'd say that its because he is an ass." The woman snapped open the parasol that she had been carrying violently and hurried past Nataliah, her royal hips swaying.

Nataliah stopped walking and dropped her hands to her sides. She watched Bulma disappear around a corner of the maze with sad, sympathetic eyes. Bulma was a strong woman, there was no doubt about it, but there was only so much abuse that one person could handle. Before she had stormed off, Nataliah had detected the barest trace of tears in the corners of those blue cat eyes. What made it so much worse was the fact that most of the courtiers were well aware of many of the things that Yamcha got himself mixed up in, and thought Bulma to be either incredibly stupid or very greedy for marrying him. They made no efforts to mask their dislike, either.

It was amazing what the human soul could endure.
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From the start, before he and Bulma were even introduced, Yamcha had been extremely jealous of every man that looked Bulma's way. Everyone was unprepared for what took place when she happened to look back-- with a flirtaceous smile, no less.

Lord Byron was one of the highest-ranking noblemen in the court, but he had not been good enough for Bulma's mother, no matter how hard Bulma pleaded with her. Byron laughed a little too much, enjoyed too many of the pleasures in life, and did not care enough about the royal hierarchy or politics for Lady Briefs. He was a blond-haired, green-eyed devil, a real looker with more charm than any one man deserved, and he certainly knew how to use it. He had been known to the people of Earth as a classic bachelor-- womanizing and living it up, but all of this stopped when he was introduced to Bulma. It was as if he had become a new, better man. Bulma received flowers and tiny little boxes of chocolates (scandalously delicious) nearly daily from him. Lady Briefs almost had a brain aneurism every time they were delivered to the door.

Just before they were about to go public with their serious relationship, and Bulma was struggling to conceal a delicate diamond ring on a very special finger, something unexpected happened. Lord Byron came knocking at Lady Bulma's door one morning, his face twisted into an expression of deep hurt and pain.

"I am being banished from the kingdom," he informed her numbly, fingering an official-looking piece of paper as he spoke. "For disorderly behavior."

Bulma could hardly believe what she was hearing. Disorderly behavior? Byron might have done a few things that the older women did not approve of, but he certainly wasn't stupid enough to do anything that could earn him a serious punishment. "I can't believe that. What does it say?"

"Who cares what it says?" Byron dismissed bittery, crumpling the note and dropping it to the floor. "Both you and I know the reason for this. I am being sent away by ship tonight, bound for Australia. I am also being stripped of my title."

"Stripped of your title?" Bulma's heart raced wildly. What were they going to do? "I don't care what anyone else says. I'm going with you."

Lord Byron stood over her, allowing himself a tiny ray of hope. But then he got a better look at Bulma's wide, beautiful blue eyes and couldn't allow her to do such a thing. "That would be impossible. I could not allow you to do that to yourself. And besides, the reason I am being sent away in the first place is so that you would be left here, alone, for Prince Yamcha to comfort."

A tear slid down Bulma's cheek at the realization that she might never see her fiance again. Byron smiled softly and brushed it away with one hand. Bulma seized it before it dropped to his side and held onto it furiously, her lips set in a determined line.

"I will do whatever's necessary," she said. "I love you."

"I love you also," Byron responded, his eyes darkening with sorrow. "But even if we did decide that you would come with me, I very much doubt that you would be permitted to. It would hurt me to see you poor and starving in some barren land, hindered by the likes of me."

"I would give up the clothes on my back to make a life with you," Bulma promised solemnly. She held up her engagement ring for him to see. "We are supposed to be married this summer, Byron, we cannot be separated. Not by Yamcha, not by anyone else in the world."

Her fiance closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to rip down the doors of the throne room and kill the man who had ordered this done. When he opened them again, Bulma had her ring back on her finger and was cradling it stubbornly, her cerulean eyes wet with unshed tears. She was most definitely an Earth-bound angel, a prize to had, and she had almost been his. Byron took a step back from her doorway, causing her to break down and sob quietly, her thin shoulders shaking.

"Remember this, if nothing else-- I love you more than anyone else in the world, and I will never love another for as long as I live," he promised her, lifting his left hand to show her his own golden band. "Good-bye, Bulma-chan."

Bulma could hardly watch as her first and only love walked away from her for the last time. Despite her desire to be brave and handle this in a calm matter, she could not restrain her emotions for any longer. Slowly, she stepped back inside. Squeezing her eyes shut, with her wet eyelashes tickling her cheeks, she leaned against the door and slid to the ground slowly. Nataliah found her there a half an hour later, sobbing for all she was worth.
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Surprisingly, word of Lord Byron's banishment did not spread fast. Bulma was extremely grateful-- it would have killed to her to have her mother find out the reason for her seclusion in her room while she was so torn apart. Later that night, at the time Byron was scheduled to leave, the desperate girl donned a hooded cape and slipped out of the palace.

She was headed for the port, where Byron's ship was to leave. She thanked the timing-- if it hadn't been for the cover of darkness, all of the city would have seen her sprinting through the streets with tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. That was hardly a ladylike thing to do.

Byron stood at the dock, awaiting the order to be loaded onto the ship like meaningless cargo. His green eyes held a sorrow that matched her own. They narrowed in alarm when he recognized her slim form.

"Bulma? Lady Bulma?" Lord Byron caught her in his arms, shaking his head in disbelief. "I am so sorry... People are going to say things about the accusation when they realize I am gone-- but don't you believe them."

Bulma pulled down her hood and hushed him. In Byron's eyes, it was the loveliest he had ever seen her. "I know what has happened. Yamcha did this-- and its all my fault." The distressed woman covered her face with one hand and braced herself against Byron with the other.

"Don't blame yourself," Lord Byron whispered, running a fond hand over her hair. "I love you, no matter what happens."

Bulma pulled away from him, her blue eyes wide with terror. "Don't ever say that! If Yamcha ever found out about our engagement, he would have you killed. You are the most wonderful man I've ever known-- and I envy the lucky woman who gets you."

Lord Byron shook his head, his green eyes confused and hurt. "There will be no other woman, Bulma, I've already told you that. Only you." Then the guards moved in on him, and Bulma backed away slowly. "Release me at once! Let me at least say good-bye!"

Bulma pulled her hood back up to hide her tears and lifted a hand in one last farewell. The diamond on her left hand flashed in the moonlight. "Good-bye, my lord."

Lord Byron's features twisted into an expression of irreparable pain as the guards took him away-- an image that would have to last Bulma a lifetime.

She never saw him again.
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Bulma had retreated to the private royal gardens to be alone. She sat in a white whicker swing beneath her favorite tree-- an old weeping willow that had harbored many a distressed queen in its day. She stared off into space, her blue eyes hollow and as empty as her expression. All she had to show for her pain was a single, dried tear. She was getting better at concealing her emotions every day.

Unbeknowest to Yamcha, who couldn't care less and wouldn't have noticed anyway, she still wore a delicate diamond ring on her finger, the very same one that had been given to her years ago by her only love. She thought of him today for no particular reason. Just like him, her small group of friends had eventually been shipped off one by one also, victims of her 'fortunate' beauty.

The swing rocked gently in the warm spring breeze, causing the drooping willow branches that framed it to rustle pleasantly. Bulma reached out to caress a pretty yellow leaf, and her eyes focused again. Byron existed now only in her memories, and he was never coming back. It was a fact that she would never fully adjust to.

And now she and Yamcha were going to Vejitasei. Though she had heard many bloody tales about the Saiyan's supposed primitive culture, she had also seen many of the paintings done of the landscapes on the planet, and had always admired them greatly. Art had always been one of her passions, but due to her place in society and partly by her gender, she was forbidden from engaging in much more than still life. Traveling to Vejitasei would give her a firsthand look at the dangerously beautiful nature that she found so appealing.

She had been sent word (Yamcha hardly had time to waste on his wife anymore, with all of the plans that he was making) that they were to take off the next morning. The trip would take almost two days. Bulma's heart sank at the thought. Two days in a confined space with Yamcha, who wouldn't have anything to occupy himself with besides bothering her. The Queen of Earth gripped the side of the wicker swing and squeezed her eyes shut tightly, silently willing herself to die. If she tried just hard enough, she thought, she might be able to pretend that she weren't here, that she was off on some distant planet where she could be safe...

She had been sitting there, gripping the swing with all she had, for nearly a half an hour before Nataliah made her way over to interuppt. She stood before her queen for a moment, her hazel eyes sympathetic. Finally she cleared her throat. Bulma did not stir.

"My lady?" she said hesitantly, reaching out a hand to touch her mistress' shoulder.

At the sudden contact, Bulma started and blinked rapidly. She appeared confused, as if she no longer knew where she was. When she saw the old willow tree and her concerned handmaiden, it all came back to her. The pretty face fell, and she sighed.

"What is it?" she asked, testier than she normally might have.

"You've been outside for a while now, lady," Nataliah reminded her. "If you aren't careful, your skin might burn."

A sunburn? Unthinkable! Bulma resisted the urge to stay put and acquire the golden skin tone that she had always longed for, but knew that it would be impossible. Earth's queen must maintain her ivory pallor, or there would be hell to pay. The woman stood slowly, smoothing her white dress down daintily and smiling tightly at her maid.

"We wouldn't want that, now would we?" Bulma brushed past Nataliah and headed for the palace, trailing her fingers over the exquisite flowers as she went. "Have you received any word from my king?"

"Pertaining to what?" Nataliah asked. Yamcha usually had his advisors and assistants keep Bulma posted on what was going on, but most things weren't even worth listening to. Bulma had long since ordered her to not even bother memorizing them.

"What else?" Bulma pointed out impatiently. "Vejitasei. I should think that the possible chance of a war would be important enough to stand out in your mind."

Nataliah swallowed, unsettled by the sudden change in Bulma's temperament. Where was the woman who had just recently been trying to befriend her? "Nothing, lady. Were you expecting news? I could always speak to--"

Bulma shook her head. "If it were important, I would know." She plucked a rose from its bush that matched the ones embroidered on her gown and twisted it between her fingers. Nataliah caught up to her and watched the rose as it spun in Bulma's small hands. "Do you think that the people there will be friendly?"

"I could not say, Your Majesty," Nataliah said sympathetically.

"Please stop calling me that," Bulma insisted absently. "You've been calling me by my title for my entire life. Please stop-- it makes me feel detached."

"I am sorry." Nataliah could not for the life of her get used to not adding the typical 'my lady' or 'Your Highness' on after her sentence.

"No apology is necessary." Bulma released the rose and watched it fall to the ground, scattering bright red petals over the white marble pathway. She seemed hypnotized by the color so like that of blood. "Run along to the palace and tell Yamcha that I will be delayed for dinner."

Nataliah furrowed her eyebrows, puzzled by this statement. "But, you might--"

"I'll try my best to stay in the shade," Bulma assured her.

The handmaiden noted her lady's glazed over, emotionless eyes and hurried to do her bidding.
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Rhapsody~*
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