Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unfaithful ❯ Part Two: 11 ( Chapter 11 )

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

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

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



________________________~* Part Two*~: Temptations
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Bulma winced as Nataliah eased the cerulean-blue wrap over her injured waistline and gently smoothed it down to a perfect fit. The bruise was painful, but not the worst she had sustained by a considerable margin, so she gritted her teeth and did not comment on her pain. Doing such came so easily to her now.

"M'lady..." Nataliah breathed. "The color is breathtaking, and it matches your eyes beautifully."

Bulma stepped over to her mirror. Her reflection stared back dully. She looked good, yes, but did not feel it. "Yamcha will be pleased."

"And you aren't?"

"He wants to impress Prince Vejita's security council with my looks rather than his intellect," Bulma responded bitterly, fingering her dangling silver earrings. "Which is asking for failure, if you know anything about foreign policy."

"Is the purpose of this trip truly to maintain peace?" Nataliah asked.

Bulma's eyes wandered over to the dresser that contained her perfume, and she wondered if Yamcha would notice her wearing it. It depended on the strength of the liquor provided, she supposed. "Of course not. But he could at least put some effort into pretending that it is." Her mind was made up-- the perfume beckoned to her. "Excuse me for a moment please, Nataliah."

The handmaiden, who was far too well trained to ask questions, ducked her head and obeyed.

The human woman lunged at the drawer eagerly and sprayed the heavenly scent onto her body. The smell of the stuff brought her back to that afternoon, when she had been secured in Prince Vejita's strong arms. Bulma quickly steered herself away from such dangerous thoughts and hastily returned the bottle back to its hiding place. Rather than call Nataliah back into the room, which now reeked of the stuff, she exited the room and went to her. It wasn't as if she weren't wearing enough makeup already.

Nataliah, who was going to accompany Bulma to the dinner, as was proper, smiled in greeting. She wore a simple beige wrap, designed not to take any attention away from her queen. Bulma wished that she could trade places with the girl for this night.

"Are you ready, Your Majesty?" she asked.

Bulma briefly thought of saying no and feigning a fainting spell, but something stopped her.

"Of course," she replied.

The queen dismissed the possibility that Prince Vejita was her reason for attending.
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"You wouldn't believe the natives on this planet, Your Majesty," Radditz continued in his condescending, what-pathetic-simpletons way. He seemed to have forgotten that he, too, used to be a lower-classed citizen. "I was ready for them to start chasing us with pitchforks or-- or homemade firecrackers or something."

Magdalene smiled tightly as Radditz, ever the loud-mouth, guffawed over the audacity of it all. She loved the boy like a nephew, but his ego had inflated to rival even her son's as of late. And the wine he was currently 'getting a little taste of' did not help at all. The other members of the security council-- Radditz's father Bardock, brother Kakkarott, Vejita's childhood bodyguard Nappa, and finally the sullen Turles-- tried not to let Radditz catch wind of their annoyance.

"So the leader approaches us and says 'Please-- spare our lives! We mean your empire no harm!' and Turles goes 'You're doing it harm by opening your mouth!' and the man is just speechless," Radditz pressed on. "He died with that pathetic look on his face. And right after, Nappa goes 'So that's why they say not to make sour expressions-- your face really will get stuck that way!'"

Only Nappa laughed along with Radditz. Vejita, at the head of the table, glowered.

"What's the matter, Vejita-sama?" Nappa asked. "You were there, and you laughed pretty good."

"Nappa," Bardock, ever the mediator, scolded. "There are times when you and Radditz's brainless comments are inappropriate, and this is one of them."

"Alright-- Dad," Nappa grumbled.

This earned chuckles from not only Radditz, but from Turles also. The usually stone-faced Saiyan could not help himself.

"Would you all just shut the fuck up for a second?!" Vejita snarled suddenly. The table went silent. "I don't know about the rest of you idiots, but I am here to conduct an introductory meeting, not happy hour!"

Magdalene could not help but smile with pride at her son's coldness. He had known these men for all his life, and normally would have gladly joined in on the fun, but when it mattered most, he was able to conduct business in their presence. "Vejita is quite right. Perhaps you should be discussing the matter at hand rather than mocking your latest purging victims, Kami bless their souls."

"Kami?" Turles muttered. "More like Satan, considering where we sent them."

No one laughed this time, because Vejita's black eyes flashed red in anger.

"What, exactly, are your goals for this meeting tonight?" Bardock asked Vejita, after shooting a black look in both Turles' and Radditz's direction.

"I want to indimidate, but not enough to make the bastard feel like he's in over his head," Vejita replied, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. "I want him to feel like he can win, so that when his plan fails, it will be all the more amusing."

"Yeah, and then we can take his woman!" Nappa exclaimed crudely. His Saiyan comrades joined him in his loud, rude laughter.

Magdalene chose this point to intervene. "That will be quite enough of that, Nappa."

Vejita scowled. "There you go again, attaching yourself to the latest victim." Inside, he congratulated himself on hs cover. If this was Magdalene 'attaching herself', then what the hell was he doing?

"She cannot help that her husband is a monster," Magdalene said, with a careful glance at the door. "In case none of you remember, I myself was in her rather frightening position some years ago."

"Humans are so stupid," Turles commented. "Since they do not have life-mates, they assume that they have the privelege of abusing any other bitch that comes along."

Bardock sighed. "We are not here to discuss the ethics of the human race."

"For once, the old man is right," Vejita said. "Who gives a shit?"

Kakkarott spoke up for the first time. "I care-- Bulma is really nice."

"Address royalty in a more respectful manner," Bardock corrected him sternly.

"But she told me that I could call her by her first name," Kakkarott protested. "She did!"

Radditz narrowed his eyes. "You're a liar!" he accused. "What woman in her right mind would go for you?"

Kakkarott was about to reply when the doors of the room opened and the human monarchs of Earth were announced. Silence fell upon the room as Yamcha entered, pulling Bulma along like an accessory. Behind them, a timid handmaiden followed.

Vejita, though he had been trying his damnest not to, met Bulma's eyes. Judging by their wide, vulnerable appearance, something had gone wrong. Try as he might, the prince could not help but wonder what it was. It was Bulma who looked away first, however. Yamcha scowled and yanked her forward, so that she was closer to him.

"I am King Yamcha, and this is my wife, Bulma," Yamcha announced with an oily grin. "On behalf of me and my people, good evening to all of you."

"Welcome," Magdalene responded before her clearly agitated son could put his two cents in. "Please, take your seats."

Bulma felt the queen's eyes on her, prying, as well as those of the rest of the security council. She tried not to meet any of their glances as she took her seat between Yamcha and Magdalene. She was painfully aware of Vejita's strong presence directly across from her. Nataliah stood behind her chair, ready to do her lady's bidding.

Vejita did not look too excited to be in this situation, either. He was frowning as if this event were nothing but an inconvienance. "Now that we're all gathered together like a happy family, introductions are in order." Bulma noticed the disapproving look cast by Magdalene to her son and could help but feel amused. "The bald fool next to me is Nappa, and the angry bastard beside him is Turles." The two burly men did not seem fazed in the least by the surly introductions. "You've already met Kakkarott. Beside him is his father, Bardock, and his brother Radditz." Then his menacing onyx glare focused in on Yamcha, who fidgeted a little in his chair. "They may look stupid, but even they know better than to fall for anyone's bullshit."

Bulma felt their (with the exception of Kakkarott and his seemingly level-headed father) glares honing in on she and her husband, and knew that Vejita was not making empty threats. It was becoming apparent that they were in way above their heads, and it was certainly too late to turn back now. "Its a pleasure to meet all of you," she managed, when Yamcha said nothing. "My husband and I look forward to conducting business with you."

The sullen man Vejita had called Turles elbowed Radditz, who grinned broadly. Bulma was shocked to notice a gleaming gloden tooth obstructing his smile. "The pleasure will be all ours, Your Majesty."

"Ignore Radditz," Magdalene advised with a fond smile. "He cannot help that he's an idiot."

Bulma watched, mystified, as the Saiyans laughed together as if they were old friends sharing a cherished inside joke. Back on Earth, she and Yamcha had never had a friendship with the people they worked with, no matter how long they had known each other. It was frowned upon, and considered to be too 'relaxed' for world leaders. Yet here the Saiyans were, interacting in a matter that family would. Beside her, Yamcha appeared to be equally puzzled.

Only Vejita did not laugh. Instead, he watched Bulma as she glanced around, clearly confused at their relaxed manner. But it was not just confusion in her eyes-- it was also jealousy, and a desperation to be included. She looked as if she were a child, starving for the love of her elders.

Then, unexpectedly, she turned and met his gaze. The electricity that had generated between them earlier returned, and a becoming blush spread over Bulma's nose and cheeks. Vejita found comfort in the fact that she, too, hadn't been able to forget their kiss. It was not pleasant to hold the secret alone. Then Yamcha whispered something to her, adn the eye contact was broken.

"Now, that will be quite enough of that please," Magdalene called out over the raised voices of the Saiyan men. "We don't want our guests to feel left out."

"Left out?" Radditz repeated. "Do you think that they want a piece of this?"

"Can it, Radditz," Vejita snapped. "You seem to have forgotten the purpose of this meeting."

Kakkarott grinned. "Yes-- dinner! I heard tha there was food involved."

"You heard correctly," Magdalene informed him. She then signaled to a nearby servant, who bowed and left, apparently to find food. "I apologize for making you wait."

Yamcha made an attempt to smile. "Its all right. Now, isn't some negotiating supposed to be going on?"

Bardock leaned forward and shot Vejita a look. "Let us not rush into things," he advised. "This dinner is supposed to be a means for us to find common ground, not a way for us to rush hastily into such an important matter."

"I fail to see the point in delaying," Yamcha argued. "Amendments can always be made later."

Bulma averted her eeys down to her clasped hands, which rested in her lap. Yamcha was making fast work of pretending to want peace. At this rate, war would be declared by the second meeting. She thought of Byron and Maylene back on Earth, and all of the other innocent people who had been adversely affected by her husband, and found that she did not have the stomach to allow him to do it again. "Kakkarott-- that woman that you left with earlier, I can't seem to recall her name. What was it?"

All eyes turned first to Bulma, then to Kakkarott, who blushed like a schoolboy. "Chichi. Her name was Chichi."

Bulma nodded. "I remember now. Its people like Chichi that we have to keep in mind here. We aren't here to determine our futures alone, but also those of our subjects-- the innocent people who depend on us to make their world a better place to raise their children and live out their lives. Monarchs change, but the people do not. They point of leadership is to bring about peace for everyone while you can, not to wage needless war for th selfish causes that don't even apply to them."

Magdalene smirked at the shocked reactions of her fellow Saiyans. "Well spoken, dear. You are quite right. When it comes down to it, our subjects are all that we have."

Bardock nodded in agreement. "I can say from firsthand experience that her words are true. Citizens don't care about how diplomatically their leaders handled a trade deal. They just want it done quickly, and done well."

"You should be grateful to whoever suggested that you bring your wife along," Magdalene said to Yamcha, who did not appear to be too pleased with Bulma taking his spotlight. "She may prove to be a valuable asset to our plans."

Yamcha forced a smile at his fellow leaders. "I'll make a note to do that."

The doors of the room opened, and the spicy smell of Saiyan cooking floated over to the people. Heaping plates were set by the men, and even Bulma and Magdalene.

Bulma stared down at her food for two reasons. The first was because on Earth, spicy food was never enjoyed by the first class-- it was considered to be food fit for the few who possessed what the nobles snobbily dubbed 'gall', but in fact was courage and spunk, something that they themselves could never fathom. And the second reason had to do with the huge helpings that were on her plate. Ladies on Earth were never allowed to eat more than a few mouthfuls of food, lest they ruin their impossibly tiny waistlines.

Yamcha looked taken aback as well. He pushed his food around the plate like he had forgotten how to eat. Bulma could feel his eyes shift to her every once in a while, as if he were warning her not to eat either.
Then, solely because Yamcha did not want her to, Bulma picked up her fork and began to eat. She was surprised to discover that she had never tasted better. Her husband followed suit, though he did not look especially excited about it.

"You'll like dessert best of all," Magdalene assured them with a knowing smile. "Saiyan chocolate is well... you have to eat it to believe it."

"That's for sure!" Kakkarott exclaimed with his mouth full of food.

Bulma glanced around at the Saiyans, puzzled. They wolfed down their food with the manners of those from third class, with the exception of Prince Vejita. He did not seem hungry. He instead glared at Yamcha, as if plotting all the ways he could snap hisneck. He must have felt her eyes on him, because his gaze shifted from her husband to her.

Bulma's skin prickled with goosebumps as he held the eye contact with an expertly emotionless face. Bulma wondered what he was planning on doing about their earlier encounter. Had he forgotten her already? Yamcha sighed beside her, and Bulma realized how silly that was-- she was a married woman, not a schoolgirl with a crush.

"I've been thinking of how played that piano so beautifully, m'lady," Magdalene started as she pushed her plate aside. "Do you play anything else?"

Yamcha stiffened up beside her, and Bulma's heart sank at Magdalene's grave mistake. The bruise on her side throbbed, a sickening reminder of what might be coming to her later.

"No," she replied blandly. "I do not."

"So," Yamcha said to his wife, his voice dangerously easy and cheerful. "When did you get a chance to play?"

Bulma felt her throat constrict in fear. Fear-- of her own husband! "They have the most beautiful piano you'd ever hope to see here, Yamcha--"

"That's interesting," he cut her off. "I had always thought the Saiyans to be music-illererate."

Queen Magdalene's eyes flashed at the insult, and the rest of the table fell silent. "Most of us may be, but we can certainly recognize a talent when it arises, Your Majesty."

Yamcha chuckled and leaned back in his seat. "Thats ridiculous, Your Majesty. Bulma can't play a piano any more tan she can train."

"An area that you have no right to brag about," Vejita pointed out with a smirk at his comrades. "We have babies that are stronger than you are."

"Have you even heard her play?" Magdalene asked Yamcha.

Yamcha glowered. "Of course not. On Earth, music is hardly an acceptable thing for a lady to do."

"Its a good thing that we're not on Earth then, isn't it?" Magdalene said crisply. Her voice indicated that she was putting an end to the conversation.

Bulma was completely silent in her seat. Her face had gone pale and emotionless, and her lips were set in a thin, tight line. "Yes," she said. "It is."

The people at the table watched as she stood, threw down her napkin, and exited the room, her beautiful cerulean wrap fanning behind her like the waves of the sea. Nataliah looked confused at first, then ran after her lady.

Yamcha shrugged nonchalantly. "Women-- who knows why they do such things?" He then sipped at his wine, clearly finished with the issue.

Magdalene narrowed her emerald eyes at the human king. It wasn't until now that she realized her mistake in mentioning Bulma's music.

"Your Majesty," she began sternly. "I would appreciate it if you would not go after your wife. She looks as if she needs some time to herself."

"I wasn't planning on it," he responded coolly.

Across the table, Vejita fought an internal battle against himself. After seeing Bulma flee from the room, he had gotten the unexplainable urge to go after her. Maybe it was because of how wonderful their earlier kiss had been, or perhaps it was how good she looked in her sheer, oceanic dress. Either way, he could not-- and would not-- go after her. Undoubtedly it would appear suspicious, and that was something that Vejita certainly did not need. And besides, Bulma's silly handmaiden was undoubtedly capable of handling such things. But then again, she would be easy to dismiss, as all servants were, and then Vejita could have the woman alone--

"Hey, Vejita-sama," Turles said under his breath from beside him. "Is it just me, or is that human woman extremely hot?"

The comment from anyone else would have sent Vejita growling, but this quiet, moody man had always been the one whom Vejita had felt most at ease with, with the exception of Kakkarott. "She's a weakling," he replied. "And clearly mated."

Turles nodded. "Yes, Your Highness, but very easy on the eyes. How did a pussy like that end up with her?"

Vejita had wondered the same thing himself. "Arranged marriage. Or she might have been forced or bribed. What difference does it make?" He was now getting uncomfortable with the subject, and his eyes kept on shifting over to the door in spite of himself.

Turles shrugged, then turned to Radditz, probably to spring the same conversation onto him. Vejita was glad for the distraction.

Down the table, Magdalene, Yamcha, and Bardock were heatedly discussing international trade, while Turles, Radditz, and Nappa whispered about Bulma. Kakkarott seemed completely absorbed in eating his food, and swiping what he could from his unsuspecting brother's plate.

If Vejita were to leave now, nobody would notice. Especially if he used the Instant Transmission trick that he had grudgingly picked up from Kakkarott a few years ago. The Saiyan Prince glanced around the table once more, going over his options. Yet, he found it impossible to concentrate on anything besides the thought of Bulma's slender body pressed up against his, until he could almost smell the intoxicating scent of her... Before he realized it, he had come to a decision.

Kakkarott, who had looked up from his delicious dinner just in time to see Vejita disappear, was the only one to notice. While he might have seemed to be thick, even he could take a reasonable stab at where the prince was going, and knew that it was wrong.

Glancing around, he knew that everyone else was too distracted to notice, so he did something that was quite out of character. Kakkarott pressed two fingers to his forehead and transmitted to a place where he could safely observe his prince.
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"I am dreadfully sorry, m'lady," Nataliah said helplessly. "They did not train me on what to do in this sort of situation."

Bulma, who was leaning against the wall a short distance away from the meeting room, could not help but smile at her handmaiden's innocent ignorance. "That's alright. I do not require your assistance now, anyway. Perhaps it would be best if you returned to the dinner. Tell them that I went for a walk and am quite well."

Nataliah curtsied. "Very well."

The Queen watched Nataliah leave and sighed heavily. She did not blame Magdalene for telling Yamcha about the piano, of course, but it still weighed on her mind. It was a burden that was beginning to be too heavy for Bulma to carry. She dreaded the end of the dinner, when she would have to return to her chambers with Yamcha and face his merciless wrath.

The woman turned her back to the meeting room and continued walking down the halls, in a sort of trance. Her hand trailed against the palace walls absently, as if to guide her along the way. She was not aware that she was being followed until she came upon an intersection of two seemingly identical hallways. She paused, unsure of what to do next.

"Walk to the right," her follower advised. "The left will take you back around to the meeting room."

Bulma recognized the accented voice of Prince Vejita and felt her heart skip a beat. "And if I walk to the right?"

The man came up behind her, close enough so that Bulma could make out his throaty chuckle. "You'll see."

Bulma took the advice and turned right. Vejita remained a few steps behind her, though she could feel his eyes on her back. She desperately wished to know what he was thinking. "What are you doing here?" she asked quietly. "Your presence at the dinner is essential, is it not?"

Vejita snorted from behind her. "Only if I decide that it is."

Bulma was unsure of how to respond to that, so she remained silent and kept on walking until the hallway began to get increasingly more luxurious, and the black marble floors became covered by a thick red carpet. She hadn't been shown to this part of the palace before, she was sure of it, which could only mean one thing. She stopped in her tracks in realization.

"My chambers are up ahead," Vejita informed her, as if reading her thoughts. He then came up beside her, his muscled arms crossed. "Which leaves you with several options."

Bulma averted her eyes to her feet. She knew that what she was close to doing was horribly, dangerously wrong, but a part of her didn't care anymore. "Yes," she acknowledged. "But how-- and what if..."

Vejita regarded her with an assured arrogance. "No one would dare to come here, not even Magdalene."

It was then that Bulma fully knew that she and this prince were on the same page. And oddly enough, she trusted his word. "Alright then."

Now it was she who followed, right up to the doors of Prince Vejita's chambers.
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Kakkarott watched from his position behind a set of heavy velvet curtains as Bulma and Vejita entered his chambers together, then turned away in shock.

Not only did they barely know each other, but Bulma was married, and their planets were at the brink of war! Even the simple-minded Kakkarott could understand that. The consequences of their actions were beyond comprehension and unthinkable. Such a thing, as Kakkarott could recall, had never happened before.

But another thing that Kakkarott understood was the concept of love. He felt much the same sensation when he was around Chichi, though he spent half the time trying to convince himself that it wasn't so. But to endanger two entire planets-- that was foolhardy.

The confused Saiyan stepped back from the curtains and out into the hallway. His mind was torn between two options-- he could either keep the secret to himself, or tell somebody. But who? Magdalene?

Kakkarott knew enough not to make hasty decisions, so he used his Instant Transmission to take him back to the meeting room. He would think about this later.
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Prince Vejita's chambers seemed out of place in the middle of this lavishly decorated palace, Bulma observed when she stepped through the door.

The colors of the room-- black, red, and gold-- matched everything else in the palace, but weren't hidden or crowded up with countless paintings or tapestries-- just the occasional picture of the ocean, the desert, a war scene, nothing spectacular. His room dwarfed even hers and Yamcha's in size. The main room was enormous, and held some couches and chairs, as well as a balcony that looked like it reached out over the cliffs bordering the ocean. There were several other doors leading into other rooms, all of which were closed.

Vejita immediately crossed the room to the balcony, where he stopped at the railing. For a minute, it had looked like he was going to keep on walking, right off the balcony. Bulma would not have put it past him, but trotted forward in alarm nonetheless. Before she got there, he hoisted himself effortlessly up to sit on the railing.

She came to stand at the railing beside him, and found herself breathless with the beautiful view. They were a considerable distance higher up than any other balcony she had ever stood on, and were provided with a spectacular view of the angry waves crashing up against the jutting cliffs that the palace was built on. The balcony also gave them a picturesque view of the sunset, which cast a blood red glow over everything below, and a tamer orange on the balcony itself. Bulma savored the feeling of the warm breeze caressing her face and tousling her hair. If she could have, she would remain here, taking in the view, forever.

"I guessed that you might like that," Vejita said with a smirk.

Bulma tore her eyes away from the ocean for a moment to look at her companion. "Then you were planning this, before I ran out of the meeting room."

"No," he replied. "I did not have to plan, I just knew. I was there when you were down by the ocean, remember? You would have to be a fool not to see that you enjoyed herself."

The woman stepped away from the railing now, the spell that the view had cast upon her broken. "I shouldn't be here."

Vejita narrowed his eyes. "Its too late now."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Bulma asked suspiciously. "You kissed me. That is hardly grounds for me to leap into a silly affair."

"An affair?" Vejita snorted at the term. "Its only an affair if you stay the night."

"What else did you bring me here for?" Bulma demanded, feeling heady with her newfound confidence. "I hardly believe that you wished to share the view with me."

"You're right," he agreed, sliding off the balcony to stand on secure ground. "I didn't."

"Stop playing games with me," Bulma protested. "What do you want from me then?"

Vejita's frown slowly curled into a smirk that made Bulma feel weak in the knees. He approached her slowly, and she waited for him, heart racing in anticipation. She loved how he seemed to behave like a predator stalking prey. As his hands encircled her waist, she thought that she definitely did not mind being caught. In fact, it was ranking up to be one of the best experiences of her life.

Vejita's hands came to rest on her waist, caressing as if he were trying to memorize the feel of her. Then he came into contact with her bruise, and she cried out in pain. The Saiyan stopped his ministrations and took a closer look at her injury. Bulma winced in pain and frustration that Yamcha managed to ruin this for her, too, then in the heat of the moment, she thought of something.

"He did this to you, didn't he?" Vejita demanded. "The stupid bastard."

Bulma grabbed his hands and placed them on the straps of her dress. Her blue eyes lifted up to meet his black ones intensely, and a playful smile tugged at her lips. The sight of her was breathtaking. "Perhaps you should take a closer look."

Vejita's eyes darkened with understanding. Wordlessly he began backing her over to the couch that loomed in the corner of the balcony, taking his time as he unfastened her ocean-colored wrap. "Maybe I should..."

Bulma allowed him to slide her wrap off of her body and lower her down onto the couch. Her body felt like it was on fire, a sensation that Yamcha had never been able to duplicate. The married woman felt sexy for the first time in her life, instead of just used, and grinned contentedly because of it. She reached back to let down her hair, even though this was not her husband, and giggled as the breeze blew it around her face.

All thoughts of her husband and the meeting that they were missing disappeared from her mind as she let the Saiyan Prince show her what she had been missing in her life since she had voiced that fateful 'I do'.
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Rhapsody~*
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