CHAPTER THREE:

 

The early whispers of dawn woke the weary travelers from their tumultuous sleep. Groaning weakly the older saiyan tried to burrow himself deeper within the barely warm confines of his blankets. The coldness of the earth beneath him did not help matters, and his back ached from its constricting position on the relatively sharp rocks.

 

“Ta’hi…ta’hi Makaru…are you awake?”

 

~ So much for sleep. ~

The young saiyan raised his head up and stared blankly into the troubled onyx eyes of Fumiko.

 

~ Poor boy. He has been through so much in so short a time. ~

“I need to take a quick wash, ta’hi Makaru. Is it safe for me to go to the small brook? I am very sorry for disturbing you…”

 

“That’s okay, Fumiko. Ahi, you may use the brook, just be careful of niheru around the area, okay?”

 

A small smile of relief broke out upon the handsome face and with a quick bow, Fumiko darted towards the small stream that lay beside their makeshift camp.

 

Makaru sat up slowly and stared after the now-bathing boy. He rubbed weary hands over his eyes and then sank them within his spiky locks. They had only a few more miles to go, and so far they had had a successful trip. Relying on his hunting skills, he had caught several wild game for their nourishment and to his delight and pride, Fumiko had kept up with him throughout the grueling trip. He raised his head to stare at the golden sunrise, his full lips curving into a rueful smile. His dreams had been filled with his new abilities in seeing visions. He knew that Radditsu and Turles were dead, but his pain had come from the fact that his best friend had been captured by that saiyan that had attacked and killed his mother. It had taken all of his strength not to turn around and head back towards the scene of the battle. He wanted to release Kakkarrot, but he had to complete his present mission. Fumiko had to be taken to a safe place.

 

His eyes darted towards the playing boy, and his eyes softened with sadness. He wasn’t sure that telling Fumiko his father was dead as well was going to help. The boy had never seen Radditsu, and he doubted that the news would have made a dent in his current psyche. No, he would keep the news to himself. Let things go on as they have.

 

“Look, ta’hi Makaru! I caught a fish!!”

 

Makaru forced himself to laugh lightly at the joyful expression on the longhaired boy. “Ahi, Fumiko! I see we are going to have a good breakfast today. Come. Let’s eat. We have a long day ahead of us today.”

 

A quiet half hour went by as the two Saiyans feasted on the rather large fish. It wasn’t enough though, and Fumiko rubbed his naked torso in dissatisfaction. “I am still hungry.” He complained.

 

Makaru chewed thoughtfully on his fish bone and then leaning forward with a cheeky grin on his face, he replied calmly. “Hmm…I have an idea. Why don’t we start on our journey, and if you see any wild game this time, you can kill it. Deal?”

 

“Really?!” came the enthusiastic reply, dark eyes flashing with barely concealed excitement.

 

Makaru chuckled and rose to his feet, beginning to pack up their meager belongings. “That’s right! You get to kill it and maybe even skin it yourself.”

 

“WHAA HOO!! I get to do my very first kill and I am not even in a pa’hi yet!! You are the best, ta’hi Makaru! Come on! Hurry up, before all the animals disappear!!”

 

~ Somehow I doubt that. ~ “Okay, okay. Slow down. I am coming!”

 

And despite the hollow gloom that filled his being, Makaru chased the happy laughter towards their destination. He failed to take notice of the stealthy shadow that followed their every move.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

General Nappa walked with a ton of bricks attached to his feet towards the grinning figure of the Lieutenant before him. Bowing slightly, he took off his robe and tossed it wearily across his desk. His office seemed to be a bit smaller, and he idly wondered if Gradun was slowly sucking out the air from it.

 

“Lieutenant.” He said warily, his eyes taking in the still figure as he collapsed into his chair.

 

“I believe that you have my prisoner.” A statement that left no room for argument.

 

Nappa grit his teeth and rested his arms upon the solid strength of the armrest. “He has been placed in the dungeons as you requested.”

 

“Excellent, Nappa.” Gradun said lightly. Spinning away from his position beside the large windows, he walked around the room in slow circles, his sonorous voice causing Nappa’s already aching head to throb in even more pain. “I want him to be kept there until further notice. Oh, yes, and make sure that you order a public whipping for him by tomorrow afternoon.”

 

Nappa snapped his head up. “Public whipping? What for?!”

 

Gradun frowned at the tone. “How dare you refute my decision! This is an order from the king himself, and you dare to question his orders?!”

 

Nappa narrowed his eyes into angry slits. “What order? I do not see any order from the Ha’j.”

 

The Lieutenant pursed his lips in distaste, and reaching within his robes, he pulled out the official parchment, calmly placing it in front of the doubting General. “Is this proof enough?”

 

Nappa kept his eyes pinned on the smirking saiyan before him, before reaching for the scroll. Raising it to his face, he opened it and skimmed through the document. It was official enough, and it had the King’s signature to boot. His angry demeanor did not lighten in the slightest. Why would the King order such a thing? A hundred lashes. Why should he care? He had done his duty, and now all that was left to do was to concentrate on Frieza and his cronies. Sighing in defeat, he dropped the letter and rubbed his hands, over his eyes.

 

“Fine, Gradun. I will send out the order.”

 

The document was snatched up in the blink of an eye, and Gradun could barely conceal the gloat in his voice. “Very well, Nappa. I expect to see a good show. The King demands it. Ha’ku Ra’nan, Nappa.”

 

The General released the breath he had not realized he had been holding as he heard the close of his door. Rising to his feet, he stepped out to his balcony, which gave him access to the courtyards below. At the moment, the large space below him was empty except for the few guards that were stationed at various parts. In the last 48 hours, he had been through a mission that quite frankly made no sense to him and was still not making any sense to him. Why hadn’t Vegeta sent for him when he had returned? He would have thought that his capture of one of the rebels would have at least gotten him an audience with the Ha’j, but all he had had to deal with was that annoying creature, Gradun.

 

Did Gradun know something that he didn’t? Za’ani! All this thinking was giving him a migraine.

 

“Karata!!”

 

“SIR!!”

 

“Go and fetch the royal executioner to my office. I have an order from the King.”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Kakkarrot couldn’t feel his legs or his arms for that matter. He shifted them restlessly, only to encounter the grating sounds of iron against stone. He tried to move his hands and was confused as to why they were unable to move any further than his shoulders. He was still naked. That much was certain, and his body felt like it had been through the depths of hell and back. His mind tried to process where he was. From the sounds of things, he was clearly no longer outside. His nose picked up the musty smell of death and decay. His body shivered from the cold, but it wasn’t from the outside; it was from his present surroundings. He tried to move his legs again, and that grating sound was heard.

 

He was in chains.

 

He had been captured.

 

With a jerk, he snapped his eyes open, dark obsidian depths darting around the enclosed space in frantic worry. His sharp movement caused him to buck against the cold stony walls behind him. He had been chained to the wall. His arms extended at both sides of his body, his legs pried apart in the very same way. It took only a moment, but he was finally able to make out his surroundings. It wasn’t a very large dungeon, and he could see several other shackles around the walls, signifying that about ten people would have been kept in here at the same time. Raising his head, he saw that the only source of light, or rather exit, was the large steel square shaped door, several feet above his head. The door had several slits for air and little light to filter through, and Kakkarrot could hear the sounds of several guards patrolling above him.

 

~ No chance to escape. ~

 

He shifted restlessly again, the irritating sounds of the chains causing him to cringe. How had this happened? How long had he been here? The last thing he remembered was being hit by that tremendous blow from Turles and then…

 

His eyes watered.

 

~ I could not save him. Radditsu…forgive me…~

 

He knew that Turles was probably dead by now. He had to be or where…

 

~ Oh, Za’ani! Did he capture me? ~

 

This thought made him struggle against the chains harder. He would rather die than be in that bastard’s capture. He did not want to be here!

 

“ARRRRGGGHH!! LET ME OUT!! I WANT TO BE LET OUT, YOU HEAR ME!!”

 

He rattled and jerked around in his captive state, not minding the stabs of agony that flared through his body with each movement. His throat felt raw from his scream, but he didn’t give up. That devil was going to release him or he would die trying.

 

“LET ME OUT!! LET US FIGHT AGAIN!! I WILL KILL YOU THIS TIME, TURLES!! YOU HEAR ME!! LET ME OUT, YOU COWARD!!”

 

Meanwhile, the guards on duty had frozen in their tracks and were now staring at each other in confusion. Turles? This prisoner was clearly delusional and crazy. No matter, they had had these kinds before. Shaking their heads, they were about to continue on their patrol again when the loud cry floated up to them again.

 

“YOU KILLED MY FATHER AND BROTHER AND I WILL MAKE YOU PAY!! LET ME OUT!!”

 

“What’s going on here?”

 

The two guards saluted smartly as their head warden approached them. “Sir. He just started shouting, sir. We don’t know the reason for it.”

 

“Hmm…” The head warden stooped down and leaned into the slits. He flashed a beam to aid in his vision, his mouth slowly curving into a grim smile as he took in the angry and slightly fearful face of the young saiyan below. “Get Lady Amman.”

 

“Lady…Lady…Amman?”

 

“Are you deaf? Yes! Lady Amman!! When last did he eat?”

 

“He has not been conscious since we brought him here, sir.”

 

“I see. That was almost two days ago. Alright, get the healer and then feed him. He has to be well prepared for the event this evening.”

 

“SIR!”

 

Kakkarrot could hear the voices above him. Were those Turles’ guards? He blinked as the flash of light filled the room. He squinted and tried to make out his visitor, but to no avail. Just as suddenly, the light was taken out, and he was left in darkness again. He listened to the sounds of the footsteps moving away, and he felt a slight panic course through him. What was happening? What were they planning to do to him? Why was he so…so powerless?

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

If there was anyone that the inhabitants of the castle despised and feared more than anyone else, it would have to be the ‘The Healer’, the infamous Lady Amman, although she was anything but a lady. Nobody knew where she had come from or how old she was, but many would stake their lives that she was probably as old as time.

 

Short and gnarly, she had a face that would have frightened even Frieza. Worn out with age, it was wrinkled and gray. Her dark eyes were sunken in within their sockets, giving her a look of one that was blind. Her nose was long and hooked (many believed she had been cursed with it), her thin lips parting to reveal teeth that were close to rotten and canines that flashed with wicked intent. Her long hair (now gray in complexion) billowed around her face and swept the floor in an unkempt mess. Her hands were claws; long fingernails capable of ripping a man’s heart out were now cradled with delicate potions and spells.

 

She looked dirty. She smelt foul, and her little room in the castle was just as vile. Filled with every imaginable eccentricity and unknown item, it was not the liveliest place to visit. The room had a perpetual balmy and musty smell, and it didn’t help that her constant bubbling cauldron that sat in the middle of the room contributed to the mixed odors.

 

However vile and disgusting Amman was, no one could deny her prowess as the most prolific healer in Vegetasei. Her ability to heal all sorts of afflictions did not go unnoticed, and she was respected for that. Problem was, the guards did not really relish the fact that they had to go up to her room to summon her. She was frightening.

 

“Come in already and stop hovering around my door!”

 

The two guards jumped as if bitten by a large snake at the shrill voice of the witch. Shuffling into the room, they froze at the doorway, refusing to go any further.

 

“The head warden seeks your presence for a healing a prisoner.” One of them said quickly, hoping this could be over and done with in seconds. He was so tempted to hold his nose and shut his eyes at the same time. The foul smell was overwhelming.

 

A snort and grumble was their only reply, and just as they were about to make their way out again, the annoying shrill voice froze them again. “And just where do you think you are going?”

 

Twin shudders of revulsion coursed through their bodies and tails were tightened around waists. “We have guard duty…”

 

“I don’t think so…I need someone to help me with my back. One of you has to help remove this itch that has been bothering me.”

 

The guards cringed as Amman opened up her mouth in what was supposed to be a grin. She snaked out a long tongue and ran it along her upper lip in a leery fashion, her eyes glinting with mischief and before any of the Saiyans could make a move, she lifted up the back of her robe revealing a back filled with sores that was enough to make the strongest of wa’zua faint.

 

“So? How about it? Will you help an old lady with her… HEY!! WHERE ARE YOU GOING TO?”

 

Muttering softly to herself at the ungratefulness of her visitors, she shuffled back to her room and began to pack up the necessary ingredients. “Stupid cretins. I should just cast a spell and kill everyone in this place. Lady Amman is only necessary for one thing and one thing only.”

 

~ Hmm…I think I will try my new spell today. Please…please work for me this time. ~

 

And cackling loudly, she reached for the small bottle. Uncorking it, she tipped back her head and downed the bitter liquid in a quick gulp. Grimacing, she waited for the effects to work. Several heart and gut-wrenching minutes later…

 

~ Just a bit more. Yes!! FINALLY!! ~

The slow transformation was amazing. She could feel aging bones and muscles straighten out, as she grew several inches taller. Her wrinkly skin began to smooth out into a clear and creamy complexion. Her long gray hair changed into a rich auburn color that cascaded down her back in soft waves. Her eyes were no longer sunken in; instead bright ebony depths gleamed back at her reflection. Her nose was no longer crooked. Her mouth was now set into a luscious red pout, her teeth and tongue no longer grotesque.

 

~ I am...I am… beautiful. ~

 

She twirled around and around in disbelief. She couldn’t believe it. After all these years and many failed attempts to break the blasted curse, she had finally made the antidote and her true form was finally revealed! She clapped her hands in delight and danced around the darkened room in joy.

 

~ I might be over 500 years old, but I am one fine grandmother! I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces when they see me! ~

 

And cackling in glee, noticing that her usual crusty voice had changed into a rich husky sound, she slipped into her she’olah and began to make her way towards the dungeons and her new patient.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Ha’j Vegeta wondered what the occasion was. The past day and a half had been disturbing for him. One minute he had been signing his documents, the next minute; he was lying within his sheets being looked after by Gradun of all people.

 

Where the hell was Kazak?

 

He absentmindedly slipped his hands into the robes that Gradun calmly held out for him. The rich red silk caressed his white-armored clad body, as the Lieutenant came around to clasp the royal brooch, keeping the robe intact.

 

“You look splendid, my Liege.” He crooned lightly, his eyes darkening with unrestrained desire. “Here are your gloves.”

 

Vegeta snorted at the compliment and quickly slipped the silk cloth over his hands. “Where is Kazak? Why isn’t he here helping me? You are not my personal assistant.”

 

Gradun bit back a growl. “But my Liege, I have always been your personal assistant, ever since you were a prince. Why should that change now?”

 

“It should change now because I am the King, and Kazak takes care of me! Got it?”

 

The Lieutenant bowed, hiding his growing anger. “Of course, my Liege.” He replied tightly. “I understand.”

 

“So where is he?” Vegeta asked again, as he stepped out of his chambers and began the long walk towards the royal courtyards. Idly nodding at the saluting guards along the way, he frowned, as he received no answer from the elusive officer. “Gradun…”

 

“My Liege, forgive me, I have not heard from him myself. He seems to have vanished without a trace.”

 

Vegeta froze in his tracks, and in a swift move; he had the whimpering Lieutenant by the scruff of his neck. “Listen to me, Gradun. I don’t know what is going on around here…yet. But once I do, and I find out that you had anything to do with it, you will wish you had never met me. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Ahi, my Liege.” Gradun croaked out, his face paling from lack of oxygen. “I understand.”

 

Vegeta dropped him and continued on his journey. “Tell me again, Gradun, what is going on today?”

 

The flustered Lieutenant rubbed his aching neck and struggled to keep up with the striding royal. “Nappa and his men have captured one of the rebels from the east and he has been scheduled for a public whipping this evening.”

 

Vegeta tried hard to ignore the cold feeling of dread that was beginning to fill his being. He had a very nasty idea on who the rebel was. Kakkarrot’s ki had seemed dangerously close, and it had taken all of his energy not to dash out towards the energy surge. He was either close to the city or…

 

~ He is right here. ~

 

The growing noise of an already assembled crowd interfered with his turbulent thoughts. He walked through the parted curtains and stepped up to the balcony. Stepping up to the golden railings, he raised a hand in recognition as the crowd acknowledged his presence with an even louder cheer. Cries of ‘Long live Ha’j Vegeta!’ made his ears buzz, and he could barely understand what Gradun was now whispering to him. He could only see the jubilant looks of relief and joy on the faces of his people. They were happy. A rebel had been caught. A threat to their unity had been arrested and was to be given the highest of all public humiliations. He swallowed tightly and plastered a grin to his face. They would want to see a good show, and nodding absentmindedly to Gradun, he motioned for the events to begin.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Lady Amman’s body tingled with newfound power. She had had to stop several times, as many of the guards kept ogling and asking her questions. So this was what it felt like to be young and beautiful again. She could barely stop smiling. Approaching her new charge, she frowned as the sudden screams of the crowd at the outer courts signaled the beginning of the celebratory events. She had to hurry.

 

“I am here to see the prisoner.” she said curtly, her dark eyes flashing with contempt as the same guards that had fled from her quarters minutes earlier were now staring at her ample bosom in leery delight. She had to restrain herself from destroying them.

 

“Are you the old witch’s assistant?” one of them asked, his hands reaching up to caress her arms. His smile was quickly turned into a grimace of pain as he found his balls now gripped tightly within a very strong grasp.

 

“The witch is asking you to open the door, and you will do that right now or you will find this stuffed down your throat.”

 

The other guard could only stare in shock and disbelief, before trembling hands managed to open the steel door. Smirking in satisfaction, she abruptly released her captive and bidding the men a good day, she disappeared down the dark hole.

 

Kakkarrot raised his head sharply at the soft thud of landing feet. He was no longer chained to wall, rather his hands were now the only things bound. He had been cleaned, fed and now had on the simple black bodysuit. Rising to his feet, he stared blankly at the stunning female before him.

 

~ Kayla… ~

“No, Kakkarrot sa’un ni Bardock. I am not your dead mate, Kayla.”

 

“How did you…?”

 

Amman cackled again. “I am not only a healer, I am also a witch, mind reader, you name it. I don’t suppose those old geezers told you about me, ne?”

 

Kakkarrot looked blank. Old geezers??

 

Amman sighed in exasperation. She laid out her herbs and mixtures, her hands now roaming over the muscled arms and back of the wincing Saiyan. “Still in pain, I see. You cannot tell me that you suffered under the hands of Nappa and his pathetic excuses for soldiers. You must have been in a much tougher battle.”

 

“One I would not like to remember,” Kakkarrot muttered, and then closed his eyes, moaning as those amazing hands kneaded their magic into his weary body.

 

“You have lost a lot of loved ones, ne? I can feel the anguish roll off you like waves. You are breaking my heart, young man.”

 

Kakkarrot snapped his eyes open and was a bit surprised to find her face within inches of his own. One more move, and he would have kissed those rose-colored lips. He found himself blushing as she broke into a grin. “I am not as young as I look, Kakkarrot. I can read your thoughts, remember? And besides…” Her hands went back to their soothing motions. “I know your heart belongs to someone else…someone with a lot of power.”

 

Kakkarrot darkened with embarrassment again. Managing to find his voice, after seconds of sputtering, he blurted out quickly. “Where am I? Where am I going? What am I being prepared for? What are all those screams I keep hearing? Why are you doing this? And who are you, really?”

 

For a moment, Amman’s face tinged with sadness before resuming its neutral expression. “You are in the main city, to be precise at the palace of Vegetasei.”

 

Kakkarrot paled, his hands clenching into tight fists. “How did I…?”

 

“Nappa.” She replied curtly, her mouth firmly into a thin line of disapproval.

 

“But why…”

 

“Gradun.”

 

“Who??”

 

“Gra…”

 

They both raised their heads up as the sound of the door opening interrupted her words. An undeniable shadow of a fighter came down the stairs, before the dark cloak revealed its owner. Sardonic dark eyes took in the silent duo before crinkling into amusement.

 

“Well, Amman, I see you have finally managed to break the curse.”

 

The healer bit her lower lip before blurting out coldly. “Lieutenant Gradun, I am glad to see that you still remember your manners.”

 

The elite had the grace to blush. “Forgive my rudeness, my Lady. You are indeed ravishing at your age.”

 

“Cut to the chase. You have come for the boy have you not?” She snapped impatiently as she packed her meager medicines back into her bag. “I am done with him. Have your stupid fun and I hope you burn for this!”

 

Gradun looked hurt. “I am shocked. For the first time in your life, my lady, you are actually supporting a prisoner…”

 

“He has done nothing wrong. You do this for your own self-gratification, and I am sickened and appalled.”

 

Gradun tightened his lips in annoyance. “You may leave, Lady Amman. I have to speak to the rebel…alone.”

 

The healer snorted in derision before turning those inky depths to the younger Saiyan. “Be strong, Kakkarrot, and may the spirits of the ones who love you, guide and protect you.”

 

Kakkarrot nodded, his face flushing again as Amman leaned forwards to place her forehead against his. He closed his eyes as he felt a surge of power flow through him. He swayed, a low moan rising out of his throat as he tried to gather his bearings. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be with her, to be filled with her essence. In fact, he was sure that he loved her.

 

She pulled away, a small smile still lingering on her face. “Good luck, my golden one.”

 

She spun around quickly and made her way back up the stairs, but not before giving the smirking elite a good stinging blow with her luxurious auburn tail. A grunt of hurt and anger was her response and she cackled wickedly before leaving the two Saiyans alone.

 

A tense silence fell, as both stared at each other. Gradun eyed the young man that had caught the eye of his King, and he reluctantly had to admire the fine specimen before him. Pity, he had to be whipped in a few minutes, for he would have loved nothing more than to experience the virile creature before him.

 

“Do you remember me, boy?” Gradun asked softly, his dark eyes lowering in obvious lust as he strolled around the motionless figure.

 

Kakkarrot felt naked. He could feel Gradun appraising him like he was a piece of equipment or some delicacy. He shifted uncomfortably, and tried to keep his eyes pinned on the brick wall before him. “Ahi.” He replied calmly, although he felt far from it. He nearly jumped as he felt the cold hands upon his spine. Compared to Amman’s soothing touches, Gradun’s touch was like ice being poured on his skin. He shivered and bit his lip to stop his whimper of disgust.

 

“So you like my touches, ne?” came the lustful whisper, and before Kakkarrot could think, he felt a light nip on his ear and the rough kiss/bite that was laved on the nape of his neck. Dancing out of reach, he growled in disapproval and narrowed angry eyes at his captor.

 

“What do you want from me?” he asked coldly. “What do you hope to gain from keeping me here?”

 

A wicked grin came onto the handsome face, and the Lieutenant replied calmly. “Oh, it is not so much what I will gain, my dear Kakkarrot, but what the people will gain. For you see, my dear boy, you are going to be whipped, flogged in front of the entire city. You will bleed for Vegetasei. You will become an example for any other Ba’an that thinks they can try to wheedle their way into our city. You will bleed for your King. And most importantly…”

 

At this point, Gradun had grabbed Kakkarrot into a hug and being unable to do much, Kakkarrot could only close his eyes, pretending feverishly that the bastard before him wasn’t actually touching him. His eyes opened up, however, as the next harshly spoken words were muttered right next to his ear.

 

“And most importantly, Kakkarrot…you will bleed for me.”

 

Kakkarrot’s eyes widened with pain as he felt the steel blade slice through his side. He couldn’t even scream. He could only stare into the laughing eyes before him, his vision slowly beginning to blur as his entire body responded painfully to his new wound. He staggered to the floor as Gradun released him. He could already feel the warmth of his blood stain the bodysuit. He was going to die before he got out there. He hardly heard the curt command from Gradun, as he found himself being lifted roughly to his feet by two guards.

 

His last coherent thought as he felt the bright light of daylight hit his face…was for the one who loved him. The one with the power.

 

~ Vegeta…nu ra’hi…~

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Vegeta sipped from the glass of wine set in front of him. The crowd was growing restless. They wanted to see the main event. ‘Bring out the rebel!’ They bellowed. A guard bent down to whisper into his ear, and he nodded in approval. Better to get this over and done with. He stood up to address the crowd, noticing idly that Gradun was now at his side, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

 

The Ha’j frowned. Something wasn’t right, but he had to make the announcement. He couldn’t keep the people waiting.

 

“My fellow Saiyans!” He began loudly, causing the restless crowd to grow silent in respect. “Today is indeed a glorious day for us all…”

 

~ Vegeta…nu ra’hi… ~

He faltered and shook his head. His frown deepening as the plaintive cry rang out in his mind. Coughing self-consciously, he continued. “We have a rebel in our midst and in the laws and customs of our land…he will be dealt with in the appropriate way!”

 

~ Vegeta! Help me! ~

 

He clasped a hand over his chest, a fresh surge of gut-wrenching agony flowing through him. He winced. His eyes watered, and he tried hard to maintain his composure. He couldn’t be weak now.

 

“My Liege…do we bring out the prisoner, now?” Gradun asked softly, his dark eyes glittering with mischievous glee.

 

Vegeta could only nod. He knew who it was. He staggered to the rails, his hands gripping the golden rod tightly. His breath came out in short pants, his vision blurring with unshed tears, his heart practically ripping out of his chest.

 

~ Oh, Za’ani…please…no… ~

“Oh, people of Vegetasei!” Gradun announced loudly. “We hereby present the prisoner, the rebel within our midst! Kakkarrot sa’un ni Bardock!!”

 

The crowd roared in approval as the gates were thrown wide open. The noise increased even louder as the young Saiyan was dragged and unceremoniously dumped to his knees in front of the royal box.

 

Vegeta was dying. He could only stare helplessly as those dark eyes raised themselves up slowly to meet his. Time stood still as both tried to convey a message that words could never say.

 

There was no other way to put it…he was going to have to sentence his mate to public humiliation and possibly death.

 

His people demanded it.