"COMMAND ME"

Chapter One:

The kingdom of Saiyans… Also known as Planet Vegeta, ruled by the royal family. The King and his sons were always named after the planet itself, as was tradition. And the current King Vegeta was no different from the rest. He ruled with an iron fist, and his morals revolved around dominance and revenge. He was the planet's strongest warrior, and he never let his world or his people forget it.

The Prince Vegeta was just as cruel and ruthless as his father. Born to the king and a whore, or so the stories say, he was raised to be a king greater than his father; and when the Saiyans say "greater," they meant stronger and more hateful. It was the only way to rule on this warrior planet. It was the only way the others would ever follow you.

But although its leadership tactics made sense and kept the order, it was very cruel and demeaning to the weaker inhabitants of the planet. For example, the Yardrats, whose planet was destroyed decades ago, and its people forced to live as slaves and crop workers for the Saiyans… They were close to powerless to fend for themselves, and many of them died to the planet's intense gravity as soon as they arrived. The strongest survived, but they still lost about ninety percent of their population.

Another example were the red-faced warriors whose planet was destroyed a mere year and a half ago. Their planet's name was unknown, and they had no leader, but they were great fighters. Unfortunately, they were still no match for the Saiyan elites. The unknown species' best fighters paled in the sight of King Vegeta when they were forced to submit to him. Many of them were forced to join the Saiyans' Universal Patrol, and sent away on other missions, not unlike the one that destroyed their planet. Some say they're sent away on missions so that the king doesn't have to worry about an uprising, less too many of them remain on the planet and conspire to overthrow the Saiyans. It would never happen, but many lives would indeed be lost to the senseless fighting.

Another, smaller, weaker species resided on this awful planet. Their home world was destroyed nearly fifteen years ago, and the population was so weak, that the majority of them died on the journey to Planet Vegeta. And when the survivors arrived, the planet's gravity killed the majority of those survivors. They were known as the weakest species alive, according to the Saiyans, and they were known as the Earthlings, from Planet Earth. After the fighting, and the inevitable destruction of Earth, there had been close to two hundred and fifty thousand Earthlings left in the world. And after the round trip, and the affects of Planet Vegeta on the weak species, scholars estimated a little less than three hundred Earthlings were alive today. Some thought that was too high of an estimate.

When first confronted by the Saiyans, King Vegeta had deemed the people too weak to be of any use. They could barely stand from the intense gravity and the air simply made them sick. So sick that their bodies became frail and their bones began to crumble under their own weight. Many were killed then and there, but one awful thing saved the Earthlings from total and complete extinction…

The Earthling females were kept as pets, and they were repeatedly molested and raped, to the point where it became painstakingly clear that, unlike many species in the world, Earthlings could have Saiyan children. It was proved that male Earthlings could not impregnate a female Saiyan, and because of that, the males were all sentenced to death. There were very few who survived, and if anything, it was to allow the Earthlings to reproduce with their own kind. Awful matings took place, and Earthlings all over the planet were used and abused for almost fifteen years.

Although, some of the females were fortunate enough to gain favor with the king. He made some regulations and killed a few people, and all of a sudden, about three years ago, Earthlings were allowed in the castle, and many of the remaining females were promised protection. No one ever figured out why the king made such a strange decision, and some say no one ever will. But the fortunate girls and even boys, who were allowed into the castle, found themselves living lives that were much better than what they had in mind.

One such girl was Bulma Briefs. She had been taken in by a kind, older Saiyan, who never raped her or was obsessively cruel to her. She'd heard stories from a few of the other girls in the castle that made her pathetic life seem like a dream. She had been hit many times, and bruised, but never scarred. And never molested. She realized that she had been one of the fortunate ones. And three years ago, she had been taken away from the old Saiyan and given the royal duty of the prince's chambermaid. It was a grueling job, satisfying the next-in-line for the throne, but she had dedicated the past few years of her life to being perfect at what she did, so that she would never have to live outside the castle walls again.

Another fortunate Earthling girl was Chichi, who had been given the job of royal cook. Of course, she didn't start off as a cook, simply as a server. But she learned quickly, and her dishes were soon known as some of the best in the castle. Considering that she'd come from being a chambermaid in one of the military houses, it was a huge step up for her. Bulma never asked about Chichi's past, partly because she didn't think it was her business, but mostly because she knew what happened to Earthling girls in a Saiyan military house… Chichi was very strong. She was beautiful, and she was strong.

Launch and Maron had come from being treated as slaves, and they often told people how horrible their lives used to be. The king had given them laundry duty. Despite what they originally thought about their new lives, it turned out that there was an endless supply of laundry to be washes, dried and folded. And if there wasn't, the girls knew now that it was best to start washing some clean clothes and towels before someone noticed that their work was finished. If any of the Earthling females seemed to be unnecessary, there was a high chance that they would be thrown out of the castle. And without an assignment, there was no telling what would happen to them out there.

One Earthling male, Yamcha, had been brought to the royal castle. He was the only one that any of the girls had ever seen since the king had them all slaughtered. Bulma thought he was quite handsome, and she was glad she did. The only reason they kept him around was to give Earthling females more Earthling children, and hopefully daughters. It wasn't a secret that Yamcha would be in charge of making sure all of them were pregnant when the time came… Bulma was glad he wasn't a bad guy. He was actually very kind. A little pompous, maybe, but he would never hurt anyone. She thought he was as good a choice as she was going to get… even though it wasn't a choice at all.

And for the past three years… Bulma Briefs and her few Earthling friends managed to survive. Their jobs were toiling, but better than every other option on the planet. And they knew that. And they were grateful for it. And at this point, they were all just grateful to be alive and well…

…..

Bulma leaned down to wipe a small splotch of blood off the table's corner. The last man to come into the prince's chamber and start making demands lasted even less time than the last. The prince's temper was getting shorter and shorter lately. Bulma found herself cleaning up more blood than ever, and most of it was in this very room, where royalty slept and dreamed. From the outside, that would seem dangerous for the prince, but Bulma knew that it meant quite the opposite. It was the people who would fear the prince's wrath when blood was spilled.

She took a spray of native flowers and puffed a bit over the floor to get rid of any unpleasant odors. It was difficult to rid the room of them at a time like this, though…

The layout of the prince's chambers was quite simple. It was three rooms, all very large. The first was the main room, where large double doors decorated the entrance at it's center. Upon entry, a large, rectangular, dark oak table sat on top of a hand-stitched, short-hair carpet or red, brown and gold. The table's legs were perfectly curved and carved with images of waterfalls, cascading from the tabletop onto the soft carpet. The top was trimmed with teardrop sapphires, and a clear, thick lacquer covered the top like an inch of glass. There had been several chips over the past few years, but Bulma made sure that they were unnoticeable to the prince and his guests. Other furniture lined the walls in just as flamboyant a manner, including three dressers, a cabinet filled with the prince's plates and bowls and eating ware, a couple couches, a velvet love seat, and a dark wood hutch.

Attached to the largest room were two separate rooms, smaller, but not by much. On the far right was the prince's garderobe, complete with a diamond encrusted bathtub and three sinks. The chamber pot was jeweled with gold and rubies, with a literal hole in the floor beneath it. Saiyans didn't have a planet with very expansive technical designs, although the architecture was phenomenal. The counters were a shiny golden and bronze marble, and mirrors lined the walls. Bulma always found it eerie in there by herself, cleaning the floors and such. She hated mirrors.

Immediately to the right of the main entrance was a set of sliding double doors, without a lock. They led to his bedchamber. There was only one bed, larger than a king's size on Earth, from what she remembered about her home planet. He always had white sheets and a red bedspread and blanket. His pillows were red and white as well. He usually slept on the red ones and pushed the white ones to his feet… After living to serve him for these few years, Bulma knew just what the prince liked, and how best to serve him.

In fact, Bulma Briefs took great pride in her ability to do her job, and during her years of service, she became very dedicated to being the best at what she did, lest anyone try and replace her, of course. She took it upon herself to ask around, figuring out who was good at what around the castle, and she asked these people, when available, to teach her how to preform certain tasks. Chichi had been her first, teaching her how to serve a meal, set a table, put away silverware, and things like that. She even stooped so low as to ask Maron for advice on how to fold clothes and keep them from stinking up a room and remaining stain-free without a good wash. She was very good at what she did, to say the least, but she never said it. She knew how to keep her tongue from getting cut out of her mouth, and bragging wasn't a good way to do that. Besides, as long as the prince stayed happy, and didn't make a point to talk to her about anything, she was fine. The quicker and more efficient she did her job, the less likely it was that she would have to interact with the cruel prince…

A woman's moans echoed through the walls, every now and again getting more urgent, and sometimes becoming quiet altogether. Bulma was eager to finish up her daily routine and leave today, seeing as the prince had company in his bedchambers. Thankfully, this time he decided to shut the double doors. More often than not, he would leave them wide open, and Bulma had caught many glimpses of the prince and his mistresses ruining the bed she just made. Sometimes she felt like he left the doors open on purpose, but she had no say in the matter. She was only happy that they remained closed now. Hearing them was torture enough.

She had only the garderobe left to clean. Then she would do one last check up and she could head off to her own chambers. It wouldn't take her very long. The prince wasn't the messy type, which she was grateful for, but she hated cleaning the privy. It was just the idea of it, that he'd never do it himself and he'd never have to. She knew that chambermaid was a nice term for slave here in the castle, and she often had to remind herself of her good fortune, especially when she was on her knees, literally cleaning up after the prince took a shit. He was a glorified monster, and she was his pet.

Fortunately, she was quick, and the job was done in less than a half hour. With any luck, he would still be fucking around in his bed, and she would be free to leave for the night.

But, as it goes, Bulma had awful luck…

"And who might this be?" a high-pitched whine asked from the prince's private room.

Bulma looked up after wiping her wet hands on a towel to find one of the red-faced, unknown warrior species. Her white hair was a mess, tangled in all the wrong places. For one thing, Bulma was glad that the prince didn't require her to brush his hair. That was reserved for female warriors and their maids. And she'd never learned how to brush anyone's hair before.

"And why isn't the little brat answering me?" the red-faced woman asked. Her voice was snotty and she raised her nose in the air when she spoke. Bulma noticed a creamy splotch of liquid at the corner of her mouth and held back an urge to vomit.

"My name is Bulma, Milady," she quickly replied, doing the usual formalities and giving a quick curtsy, making sure to keep her eyes on the ground. She wasn't always good at the whole rule-obeying thing, but sometimes she got it right. After her first few improper behaviors in the castle, she'd been punished and given lessons on etiquette for over a month. She tried her best to do as the rules commanded her to, but sometimes her temper got the better of her.

"And what planet are you from? And why is that thing around your neck?"

Bulma involuntarily reached up and touched the collar hanging at her throat. Sometimes she forgot that it was even there.

"This allows me to withstand this planet's gravity, Milady."

"And your planet?"

"I come from Earth, Milady."

"Oh, shut up with that!"

Prince Vegeta's voice boomed like thunder as he swaggered out of his private room, wearing only a small towel around his waste.

"She's not a lady. She's a whore. And she needs to leave before I kill her." He turned his dark, dangerous eyes onto the red-face and she jumped, nodding once before hurrying out the door. The prince then turned his back to Bulma, who remained looking at the ground. "Servant woman, prepare me a shower. Make the water hot."

Bulma bowed, although she doubted he saw her before he closed the double doors behind him. So much for being done for the day… She quickly made her way back to the garderobe and ran the water hot. When she put her hand under it, and her skin turned bright red, she nodded once to herself and entered the main room. She went for the dresser with the towels and grabbed two large black ones and one medium sized. She placed the medium one on the floor beside the showerhead's water flow and swung the two larger ones over the handles on the wall beside the tub.

The shower and the tub were two separate things, made specifically for either standing or sitting. She never made the mistake of mixing up the two, and she hoped she never would.

Bulma turned to find the prince a change of clothes in one of the dressers and came face-to-face with his naked body. She stared at him, wide-eyed, for only a moment before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I apologize, your Highness. Your shower is ready. I'll just go get you some clothes." She kept her breathing even, but even with her eyes shut, she knew he was still standing in front of her. Her heart was racing. Of course, having to serve him for this long, she'd seen the prince's naked body many times before, but each time she closed her eyes. He was far from unattractive, but she didn't know what he'd do to her if she ever looked for too long. She didn't want to be another one of his whores, and giving him the wrong idea wasn't on her to-do list. Ever.

"I don't need them. I'm going to bed after this. Have my sheets changed and washed before I'm finished."

"Yes, your Highness."

Bulma lowered her head and waited for his ominous presence to move away from her, but he wasn't moving, and all of a sudden Bulma wondered if she was doing something wrong. She immediately opened her eyes and stepped away from him.

"I'm sorry, my Lord." She looked at the ground and bowed.

Without another word, he stepped past her and Bulma eagerly exited the room.

…..

"Well, you're up late. What's the occasion?"

Bulma rolled her eyes at Launch in the middle of the castle's main laundry room. She was hanging up a large pile of wet, white shirts, letting them drip dry for the night. Her sleeves were rolled up, but she was covered in soapy water from head to toe anyway.

"I'm guessing from the pile of dirty sheets that the prince wasn't very happy with whoever was in his bed tonight," Maron piped in from across the room, analyzing Bulma's small pile of laundry.

"Yea, he doesn't usually go to bed this early," Launch giggled. "You're usually changing his sheets in the morning, not right before the prince goes to bed."

"Maybe you should keep him warm tonight, Bulma," Maron laughed.

"That's not even funny." Bulma glowered. That was the last thing she wanted.

"Oh, come on. Lighted up. I was kidding."

"No, she wasn't," Launch tattled. "She's always going on and on about how she would sleep her way to the top if she was in you shoes, Bulma."

"Well, it would only take one or two men if you start from the prince…"

"Still not funny," Bulma said harshly, narrowing her eyes at the blue-haired girl. Many people saw them as sisters, considering how alike they looked. It was mostly the bright blue hair that people identified with them. The king's guards often said how her and Maron were the only Earthlings with blue hair that they'd ever seen, even before they all died. Maybe that was why they were invited here. It was well known that the most beautiful Earthling females were gathered for royal work, but Bulma didn't think she was that pretty. It was probably just her hair. Because it was different… that's why she'd been chosen.

"Okay, okay, break it up," Launch said, rolling her eyes. "Maron's a slutty laundry girl and we all know it, okay? Bulma? You good?"

"It's fine. Sorry I got worked up about it."

"Just make sure you put these on his bed before he's out of the shower, okay, hun?" Launch handed her a new pile of white sheets and a red blanket. "Now go. You don't want to make him unhappy right before bed."

Bulma nodded and hurried back to the prince's room. She pulled the key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, slipping inside as quietly as a mouse. She'd mastered the art of creeping about after only the first time she accidentally woke up the prince. It was the first and last time it ever happened…

"A little slow tonight, aren't you?"

Bulma jumped, almost dropping her tall pile of linens when the prince strolled out into the main chamber, a black towel thankfully wrapped around his waist. His arms were crossed, but she was relieved to find a light smirk on his face. "The laundry wenches chatting up the place, as usual?"

"Yes, my Lord," Bulma replied with a slight laugh. She looked at him for a moment, wondering why it was s strange to see him without an angry scowl or a tight glare. He didn't look so bad when he wasn't mad at someone…

"Well, hurry up with that. I don't have all night, woman."

Prince Vegeta frowned and Bulma jumped to attention again.

"I apologize, my Lord. Right away, sir."

She slid open the double doors and got to work setting down the bed spread. She flattened out the white sheets with elegance and speed. She tugged up the pillowcases and spread out the red comforter. She took a step back from her work and froze. Where were the red pillowcases? They were all white… Did Launch forget to give her the red ones? It was the most important part… Why didn't she check it before she left the linen rooms?

Bulma gulped and slowly looked at the prince, keeping her head down as her heartbeat sped up a few paces. He looked at the bed for too long, and then looked back at her.

"What?" he snarled.

"I'm so sorry, your Highness. I'll go get the red pillowcases right away. It will only take a few minutes, I promise. Please forgive me."

She quickly took a few long strides towards the exit, but he stood between the double doors, blocking her way with one muscular arm across the door frame. Bulma began to shake.

"Your Highness, please forgive me."

The silence lasted too long and Bulma knew better than do anything other than wait. And finally, the prince spoke.

"Three years…" he said. She couldn't read his tone. "Three years and you make one mistake, and here you are trembling like a lost kitten. I can feel how afraid you are, woman…" There was another long period of silence and she knew that if it went on much longer she would cry. "Don't worry about it. Go get some rest. I'll want a warm bath at first light."

And then he dropped his arm and dropped his towel, and stepped so that he was standing directly behind her.

"Yes, my Lord," Bulma replied quickly, and headed for the exit, listening to the prince shut the double doors and climb into his imperfect bed.

…..

"I can't believe I missed it. Bulma, I'm so sorry," Launch cried, hugging the blue-haired chambermaid. "You know we keep them in piles pre-made, so it must have been a mistake we made a while ago. I can't believe that happened."

"I can't believe he just let you walk out like that," Maron added. "I would've bet money that he'd have you punished."

"If anything, he should've had you punished!" Bulma snapped back. "You're probably the one who screwed up the piles to begin with! If I have to check your work every time I'm in here then I should be king!"

"Don't let anyone else hear you saying that..." Maron spat back.

"Will you two stop it already. Every time Bulma comes in here you're at her throat, Maron. Give it a rest. We all have our jobs, and they aren't going to change anytime soon."

"Yea, Maron, I'm sorry I have the job you want," Bulma snorted.

"At least if I had it, I'd be doing it the right way."

"Says the girl who can't even put sheets away properly."

The door slammed open and all three girls jumped. A guard in a full suit of armor stood in the threshold with a tight frown. Saiyan guards never smiled, but this one looked especially angry.

"Your Highness, Prince Vegeta has instructed me to have all laundry and linen personnel come with me for a few hours. We're going to have a special training exercise."

"A few hours?!" Launch immediately shouted. "Do you know how far behind we'll get in a few hours of training? And training for what, may I ask?"

"It is not your place to question the orders of the prince."

"Well, I'm questioning you. Now, answer me!"

The guard narrowed his eyes. "No, wench, I have no idea how far behind you will fall in your work, but it is neither my concern nor my problem. Now, please come with me or I will inform the king that you have disobeyed a direct order from the prince."

"Why do we need to be trained?!"

"Launch..." Bulma warned. The guard was already in a foul mood, and Launch's temper was going to get her into trouble. "I'll do some of the laundry while you're gone. Just try and hurry with whatever you have to do, all right?"

"How are you going to do laundry? You have to serve the prince."

"I'll figure it out. Just go, before you get in trouble."

Maron kept her head down as she followed the guard out the door, along with a few others that Bulma always saw in the laundry rooms, but didn't know by name. Launch turned at the door.

"Be careful. If anything, let us fall behind. Apparently, we're all in trouble with the prince because of what happened. I'd rather him be mad at me than you. I can avoid him, but you have to actually spend time in his room. Okay?"

Bulma just nodded at her friend. She already knew that this interruption was going to get her into trouble. First light passed about half an hour ago. She grabbed some spare towels and two red pillowcases and headed off to work.

…..

Bulma expected an introduction as soon as she unlocked the door to the prince's chambers, but oddly enough, there was only silence. The double doors were closed, so she assumed he was still asleep. That wasn't like him at all…

She walked over to the garderobe and ran warm water until it filled the tub to the brim. She knew that the prince liked the water to overflow when he sat down. She added some oils to fragrance the water and placed the towels and clothes for the day on the sink. She put some towels down on the floor so it wouldn't be slippery when it got wet and stood, proud of her work. She checked the soap, making sure everything was full and ready, and walked back out into the chambers. The double doors were still closed… He had to have heard her running the water.

She took a deep breath and walked over, gently sliding one door to the side and slipping inside his private room. It was dark, but the crack from the door let in enough light for her to see the slow rise and fall of his breathing under the sheets. The blanket was already kicked to the floor and he was sleeping on white pillows… It was something she'd never seen before so she couldn't help by stare for a moment.

"Your Highness," she whispered, making sure to stand far away from the edge of the bed. "Prince Vegeta, please forgive the intrusion, but your bath is ready."

He didn't budge.

Bulma pursed her lips, but knew better than to wake him from such a deep sleep. She saw this as a bit of a blessing. If the prince was sleeping, then she had time to go tidy up some of the laundry. She quickly went back tot he bath and ran piping hot water into the tub so that it would stay warm by the time the prince woke up, and then she went off to help her friends.

…..

She was only gone for about an hour, and just as she thought, the prince had taken his bath and gone off to do some royal things—meetings and training, from what she'd heard—and unexpectedly, he'd left the place a total mess for her to clean up.

Bulma frowned at the state of the prince's chambers. First she checked the bedchambers, and not only were the sheets off the bed, but they were torn as well, which meant that she would have to change them again. Feathers from a huge tear in one of the newer pillows littered the floor. In the main chambers, he must have trudged water from the bath all over. The carpet was soaked and the wooden chairs were damp and it smelled like a wet animal in the room. The garderobe was soaked as well. Water was everywhere, and it nearly flooded the entire room, leaving watermarks at the bottom of the tub and under the sinks.

Bulma frowned. It almost felt deliberate. The prince never made a mess like this. And like the pillow and the water-soaked carpet, some of it looked like it took a bit of effort to accomplish. Was this her punishment for the pillowcases? But he didn't seem like he minded as much as she thought he would… She guessed that she was very wrong, and it had to be the last time she made a mistake like that. She would have to double check everything, all the time. At this rate, not only would the laundry not get done, but she would be up all night trying to figure this out…

She didn't have time to complain or think. Bulma Briefs rolled up her sleeves and started on the flooded garderobe.

…..

"Well… I mean… I don't even know what to say, Bulma..." Chichi frowned. "You just have to bite your tongue and pretend it never happened."

"But I know him. I know that he needs to feel like he got to me. If I pretend it never happened, he'll just do it over and over again until he gets a reaction out of me."

"But that's why you're perfect, Bulma," Chichi smiled. "That's why no one else in this castle can do your job the way that you do it. Because you deal with the prince. And you know how. If you put your mind to it, he'll never get a reaction out of you, and he'll just have to live with that. There's no one else in the world I can say that about."

Bulma smiled. Chichi was a dream in this awful place.

"You're right. I should stop worrying. After all I only spent hours replacing furniture and carrying carpeting down the halls over and over again. And moping up a flood and replacing bedding and—"

"And I'm sure you did a great job, but the prince needs his meal," she interrupted, with the biggest reassuring smile Bulma had ever seen.

"Right… Sorry. What's on the menu tonight?"

"Some soba noodles in a broth to start. The main course is a miso glazed black cod with sautéed broccoli and chirashi sushi, and a yuzu crème brulee for dessert. I had the chefs set up the cart for you already. You came in pretty late and I figured you'd be in a rush, as always."

"Thanks so much, Chichi. I'll come visit you when I have a free moment."

"So… don't hold my breath?"

Bulma smiled sadly. It was true, and it was sad that she couldn't spend more time with her friend. Even when she was free, they both knew that Chichi was always busy, too. She had to cook meals for practically everyone in the royal castle, and Bulma often wondered how she even got any sleep.

"I'll see you later, Chi."

"Byeee."

She took the cart of hot food and hurried through the corridors of the faintly lit castle. She dearly hoped that the prince hadn't returned to his room yet. She wanted everything to look perfect by the time he got back, including the setup of his dinner.

When she arrived, she took out her key, fumbled and dropped it once, picked it up and opened the door. She peered inside first and sighed with relief. He wasn't there. She quickly rolled the cart over to the table and set up the dishes. Saiyans ate at least five times the amount of food that Earthlings used to eat on Thanksgiving night, and they do it three times a day. Thankfully, Bulma was only required to serve the prince dinner, unless he specifically asked for another meal. He usually got breakfast and lunch elsewhere. There were at least three platters of each item, and she set them all up, lids still on to keep them hot. Chichi even put pitchers of ice water on the cart, bless her soul. Bulma happily took a deep breath when everything was finished. She did one final check of all the rooms and nodded once to herself. This is why she had this job. Because even when the prince was being spiteful, she excelled at what she did.

All that was left to do now was wait for his return…

…

Bulma hid behind the largest tree she could find, and ripped her fingertips digging into the dirt beneath it. She cried and bled as the hole finally got big enough and she sat in it, hiding herself from the men that ran by. She was covered in the dirt she sat in, so she hid well between two large roots, and the men were distracted anyway. They were distracted killing all the others. She sat there for hours, crying in silence until her head throbbed and she had no tears left. She sat there as the dirt stung her eyes and dried up in the scrapes all over her hands. She sat there even when her lips dried out and her hair turned solid with the mud. She sat there as the worms crawled into her pant legs and critters bit at her underarms and backside. And just when she thought she was going to die, she found the courage to stand. There was no one left on the battlefield by then. The Saiyans were all gone… She looked around, knowing what she was looking for, and hoping she would never find it. But she did. A familiar puff of gray hair, and another, beside it, a puff of short, curly blonde. She struggled to get to them, climbing over the bodies, slipping on the blood that hadn't dried to the ground yet. And she called out to them, knowing it wouldn't do her any good.

"Mom… Dad… Mom… Dad… Mom…"

Bulma woke up with tears in her eyes.

And she stared across the room at an untouched meal on the prince's table.

She stood and cleaned up her face with her sleeve. It was dark outside already, but the prince never came back to his chambers. There was no way to keep the food in this room, so she had to either choose to leave it for him or clean it up. It was probably cold by now anyway, so she decided to clean it up. But as she reached for the first bowl of miso, a knock came from the door. Bulma immediately jumped to attention and raced over, throwing the door open.

"Who the hell are you?"

Bulma froze as a green-skinned woman awkwardly moved out of her seductive pose and frowned.

"I'm Bulma, Milady, the prince's chambermaid."

"Oh, well… He asked for me tonight. Step aside."

Bulma moved out of the way and the woman entered, looking around, eyeing up the food on the table.

"I'm terribly sorry, but his Highness left early this morning and hasn't returned to his room yet. You can wait for him in his bedchambers if you'd like. I'll inform him that you're here when he arrives."

"Fine. Whatever."

And then in silver heels, she strutted through the double doors, closing them behind her. Bulma frowned. Why would the prince ask for a woman to be sent to his room if he wasn't even going to be here when she arrived? Of course, it wasn't her place to question the actions of royalty, but she could still wonder.

Before she had time to close the door, a guard came rushing under the threshold, gasping for air.

"You there!" he shouted, pointing at Bulma, who froze. "State your name and title!"

"Bulma Briefs, chambermaid to Prince Vegeta, sir," she replied without hesitation, giving a slight bow, as was custom to a guard in the castle.

"Good! Find these things for me and bring them to the throne room, at once!"

The man thrust a piece of paper at Bulma's chest, and as soon as she wrapped her fingers around it, he left without another word, loudly though, as his metal shoes hit the halls' floor as he ran off.

Bulma knew better than to delay, so she unfolded the piece of paper and read the list. It was simple things, to her surprise: towels, water, both for drinking and mopping, general cleaning supplies, a change of clothes for the prince, and a few aprons and smocks. She gathered everything and placed them on the cart from the kitchen and quickly rolled it down to the throne room.

The large doors were already swung wide open and a strong smell of blood hit Bulma like a gust of wind. She coughed and paused for half a second before rolling the cart under the door frame and stepping into the bright candlelight of the throne room.

Of course, she'd been in here before, but not often. The ceiling with the height of the castle itself, and paintings decorated the walls and ceiling, all the way to the top. There were no windows, but huge candelabras hung from the walls, bathing the entire room in bright flame light. Heavily armored guards stood along the walls, but none with helmets. And of course, none of them had weapons. The Saiyans didn't need weapons.

Bulma came to almost the center of the room before realizing what she was walking in on. The king, sitting upon his iron throne, was a massive being. He was the size of at least three of his guards, and he sat upright. Never had Bulma caught him slouching or looking down. He was a fearsome sight, just like the first time…

The other thing she couldn't believe she'd missed on her entry was the prince, lying face down at the kings feet, a puddle of blood around his head. There were already two nurses tending to him, and another was running things back and forth to a supply cart at the edge of the room. Without being told what to do, Bulma immediately carted her supplies to the nurses.

"What can I do?" she asked quietly, very aware that the king was watching them all with cruel and dreadful eyes. It was a known fact that he destroyed people without a single warning, and from the atmosphere in the room, she wondered if she was close to death.

"We're going to flip him over now. Watch out, dear."

Bulma moved and they rolled him. As soon as his face was out of the puddle of blood, he gasped for air, his eyes remaining closed. Bulma watched him with dread. He looked half dead already.

"Who did this?" she asked, rather loudly, and all the nurses froze and looked at her, quickly shaking their heads in fear. Bulma's eyes widened and, without thinking, she looked up at the king, meeting his hate-filled eyes. She wanted to badly to look away, but she couldn't. It was like looking death in the face.

"An Earthling?" the king suddenly said, lifting his chin even higher to look down on her. His voice was loud and demanding, and everyone else fell more silent than before.

"Y-Yes, your Grace," Bulma replied. Her throat felt like it was about to explode.

"What are you doing here?"

"A guard… ordered me to bring supplies to y-your throne room, you Grace."

"Hmm… How long have you lived in my castle, weakling?"

"Th-Three years, your Grace."

"You're quite proper for an Earthling."

"You honor me with your words, your Grace."

He frowned and snarled. "You're getting annoying now."

"Please forgive me," Bulma quickly said, bowing her head, happy to finally be able to look away from him. She ducked away and grabbed a few towels and the ice water from her cart, handing them to the nurses, who struggled to lift the prince's head and place some comfort beneath him as they tended to his wounds.

"Now!" the king boomed, his low voice echoing through the throne room. "Now! We have no room in this castle for a weak prince! If my son ever loses a battle again, I'll have his head next time! We need our future king to be strong! Not some weak fool! He will be brought to the brink of death a thousand times if necessary! My son will never lose a battle again! Or he will pay for it with his life!"

Bulma's eyes went wide as the guards around the room erupted with hollering and cheering for the kings words. What in the name of the gods happened? She thought he was off training and talking to advisers about war strategies and planet-destroying, as he always was. What battle did the prince lose today, and when? Was it when she fell asleep? Was it when she was getting his dinner? Or replacing the carpet? Who was he fighting? And how did he lose? He was second best, only to his father, the king…

"Enough of this nonsense!" the king shouted at the nurses. "Take him to the medical tanks that King Cold has so kindly given us. My son will be healed in less than twenty-four hours thanks to the technology and generosity of the Colds… and their recent surrender to us, of course."

Bulma looked down at the blood-soaked prince. He was unconscious, but gasping for air. There was a pool of blood in his open mouth, and all over his closed eyes, probably getting under his lids, too. His hair was a mess, and his tight blue clothes were practically in shreds. Just watching him… eager for his next breath, Bulma actually found herself feeling bad for him. He was mortal after all… He experienced loss and pain and sadness just like everyone else, didn't he? Three years and she'd never had a real conversation with him out of fear… not that she would be breaking her streak anytime soon, but in a sense, she felt bad for him. And she never thought she'd ever think that way about him. After all, he was cruel, like his father. He murdered people, he raped women. He took whores to his bed and threatened even his most loyal guards. He was rude and unpleasant and demanding and…

Bulma frowned. What was she doing, insulting a man while he gasps for air through his own blood. Is that what this planet turned her into? A Saiyan? She was proud of who she was. She didn't wish harm on anyone, and although she knew how to stand up for herself, she didn't put others down to do it. Even with such a miserable person, she would show him the same respect she showed her friends. And right now, she needed to follow the nurses taking the prince to the healing chambers.

They rolled him through the halls on a small cot, clearly a last minute supply. They rushed as the cot bumped and squeaked on the stone-floored corridors. Bulma trudged eagerly behind them, a pitcher of ice water in one hand and a handful of towels, aprons, and the prince's change of clothes slung over her free arm. It was weighing her down, but for some reason her duty called to her. This was part of her job, after all. This was taking care of the prince, just as much as making his baths and setting up his meals were.

Another thing nagging in the back of her mind was her status. She was ranked a bit higher than a regular maid because she served the prince. But what would happen to her if something happened to him? If his father truly killed him… what would happen to her? Where would she go? Who would she serve? She lived a pretty luxurious life, for being an Earthling… She didn't want to give that up.

"Will he be all right?" she shouted ahead to the nurses.

They didn't even acknowledge that she'd spoken, but instead picked up the pace as if they didn't know the answer. A few turns and bumps later, the swinging door of the medical labs was in sight, and they pushed the cot and the prince right through it without warning. A few personnel jumped and fell out of the way of the cot as they entered.

"Is that… Prince Vegeta?! What happened?!"

"The King," one of the nurses said tersely. "He needs to be placed in one of the machines King Cold gave to us. Immediately!"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Two men in white suits and a woman in all blue took the cot and rolled it through another door. Bulma walked ahead to follow, but another man in white stepped ahead of her and put his arm out.

"You're not allowed in here. Go back to your chambers."

"I am Bulma Briefs, chambermaid to the prince, and you will let me through."

"You have no business here, chambermaid," the man spat. He reached out and hit her arm, knocking the clothes and towels onto the floor. He slapped her other hand and the ice water fell on top of them, soaking them. Bulma's jaw dropped.

"Listen here, you—"

"This chambermaid is making a mess in our medical facility while the prince's condition is dire! Someone please escort her out! Now!"

And before she could get another word out, two men grabbed her and tossed her out the swinging door.

…

Bulma sat in her room with her arms crossed. Her chambers were nothing like the prince's. In fact, she admitted that she'd rather spend her time in his room than her own. And for good reason. Her chambers were barely the size of a small weapons shed. Her bed sat in the corner, taking up most of the room, and her clothes were neatly stacked in a pile in the other corner. She had nothing else. Her clothes were all brown and drab, but they were clean nevertheless, and that's what mattered. The ceiling of her room was slanted downward, so when she woke up, she always remembered not to sit up to fast, or she would bang her head on the ceiling above her. It was a very cramped space, to say the least…

She was a little surprised that she couldn't sleep. She knew she had her position to worry about, but she doubted that the prince would truly die. She'd heard that those healing tanks worked miracles, and Prince Vegeta had still been breathing. His recovery shouldn't be a difficult one. Time-consuming, but not difficult.

So, all she could do was wait. It wouldn't look good for her to be seen wandering the castle late at night anyway, especially when now everyone probably knew that the prince was in recovery. No one wanted to see a chambermaid walking around without anyone to take care of. It would look shady, at the very least.

But then she remembered the laundry, and how Launch and Maron probably returned and realized that she hadn't done a single thing. She looked at the ground. This day just kept getting worse and worse. And when it seemed like it was as bad as it could get, she remembered that she never cleaned up the dinner sitting in the prince's chambers. And what was worse, that whore might still be in his room… with all his valuables… and she was the one that let her into the room… and left her there alone… Oh, gods…

Bulma jumped up and rushed out of her room. She hurried down the halls with only a little candlelight to guide her. She pulled her keys out of her front pocket and unlocked the prince's door as soon as she reached it, entering it with force that almost knocked her over in her rush.

Her eyes widened first because the food was stinking up the place. She had to get rid of it, now, but she left the kitchen cart in the throne room. Oh, gods… what if the king was angry with her for not taking it when she left with the prince—

"Hey, it's you again..."

Bulma whipped around, almost in tears, to find the green-skinned woman, leaning up against the door frame, naked except for her silver heels. Bulma immediately bowed, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Milady, but the prince… has been in a terrible accident. He will not be returning to his chambers tonight. He's currently in the recovery ward, healing in a medical tank. It will be at least nine or ten hours before he is even able to walk again. I came as soon as I could to inform you, Milady."

"Jeez… And I thought I was going to have some fun tonight. Oh, well… Tell him next time will cost him double, girl."

Bulma bowed lower and waited until she heard the door lock behind the whore, who had just walked out of the room without any clothes on, Bulma realized. But she didn't have time to worry about that. The smell was going to soak into the new carpet and the wood if she didn't clean it up quickly. But she didn't have anything to take it out with.

Letting out a silent scream, Bulma pulled on her hair and exited the room, storming down the hall to the nearest laundry room. She unlocked the door and the linen supply closet inside and grabbed a waterproof laundry bag, locked everything back up as she left. When she got back, she took everything off the table, even the kitchen platters and glass mugs, and threw them all into the bag, listening to glass shatter and liquid slush around at the bottom. When it was all off the table, she tied a knot in the top and dragged it outside and down the hallway. She left it beside the nearest trash shoot, unable to lift it high enough to put it in the high hole in the wall. Then she hurried back to the princes room and wiped everything down, and sprayed a pleasant aroma around the floor and wood furniture, especially the one's she'd brought in this afternoon. And by the time she was finished, all she could do was slide onto the floor and sit there, catching her breath. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the new aromas floating around the room. It was a mix of pine and some flower that only grew in the gardens around the castle. She hadn't realized just how tired she was, from going to bad late last night, getting up early, all the extra work she'd done today, and now this… the prince was so badly injured…

Bulma stood and dragged her feet through the double doors, not bothering to close them behind her. The sheets on the prince's bed were perfectly made, and magnificent red pillowcases covered the two pillows at the front of the bed. Before she had another thought, she threw herself onto the comforter with whatever strength she had left and fell asleep almost before her eyes were even shut…