#yes you are the nicest person in the whole world i agree ig

[ultravioletsoul]

Vergil x F!Reader - Devil May Cry Part 4

Another chapter out, and sooner than I thought! The only explanation for this miracle is that I must be... *insert Vergil voice clip here*MOTIVATED! Ok, sorry. Sometimes I like to think I'm funny. Just pretend I never said that, alright? I'm embarrassed right now.

This chapter was turning out to be much, much longer than intended so I had to split it in two parts. Otherwise it would have had an insane length and, also, I felt the need to post something soon. No worries, that this one is about 10,000+ words so you'll have a lot to read. Me and my bad habit of writing long a** fics, as of late.

I have things planned for this story-line. Well, I hope I can fit all these ideas in here anyways. Yes, there will be some expected twists and turns (a salty Vergil, too, for good measure so he's as IC as possible throughout the whole thing) but there will also be plot twists— or I pray that's your impression, at least!

As I may have already mentioned, it's going to be a slowburn “romance” because... this is Vergil we're talking about. A relationship with some human girl (or anyone, for that matter) is the last thing on his mind, but not to fret because stuff will happen in the meantime till we get there.

Thanks to the people following this fic, who like, reblog and send me asks! ♥♥

A shout-out to my beautiful friends Lucia and Lala, who help me endlessly and put up with me throughout the whole writing process— you don't want to see me in that state, I kid you not. They are a blessing in my life ;A;

Last but not least, I want to make a special mention of sweet Jasiel because she’s been waiting for a continuation of this fic since forever ♥♥

Warnings: Unbetaed work. OCs. Slow burn fic. Vergil/Aeneas is a jerk but we already knew that ;)

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Part IV: Dejá Vu

That evening you and Nanna retired to her chambers, at your insistence that she needed her rest. After all the distress she had gone through, because of your careless actions, you wanted to ensure that she didn't exert herself any further than she already had.

At first, she tried to argue and convince you that her health was in perfect condition but, as the obstinate girl that you could be sometimes, you stood firm in your decision. Nanna knew very well that you wouldn't concede and, though you didn't approve of emotional blackmail to get what you wanted, you had to threaten that you wouldn't be in good terms if she kept neglecting herself. In the end she had to do as you said, so you ushered her to her bedroom to make sure that she would not fool you.

Nanna was still worried about you, true, but you weren't on the brink of death— neither was your constitution so fragile to merit her restless nights. You surmised this was a consequence of the remorse she felt after father passed away, but you couldn't blame her for what she had done. How was she supposed to tell a child that her parent was dying and would no longer be part of this world? How could she have even said something about it, when Agnese wanted to keep you in the dark? For better or for worse, you always believed that Nanna's choices— as erroneous as some of them could have been, and in spite of how much they hurt you— were made with your best interests in mind.

It was nothing new that she made a fuss when it came to your well-being. This trait was merely a part of her character and, while it never bothered you too much, at times you wished Nanna would be a little more careful. She was getting older with each passing day, and her strength was waning. While it appeared to have escaped Agnese's notice, it didn't yours and you knew how tired Nanna had become in the past years. Perhaps after you had married, and left this house to form a family of your own, she would decide to retire— at long last— and spend her last days enjoying the fruits of her labor.

Sweet Nanna deserved that, at the very least. With no children of her own, you worried how she would fare after you were gone to live with your future husband— whom you had no idea who could he be. In your situation, Agnese hadn't arranged for an engagement... yet. It was not hard to guess she was speculating as to who would be the better choice, in accordance to her interests. At that point, you only hoped to find him agreeable when your families reached a compromise.

As it was, your old nanny had been under the service of this family for a long time— even more important, she had dedicated her whole life to Agnese and you without question or complaints. If only your lady mother could have seen the extent of Nanna's love and be more appreciative of what she had sacrificed for her sake.

Your stay in the gardens had improved your mood considerably, in spite of the troubled emotions that lingered after your unexpected meeting with Aeneas. While you made no mention of his presence, neither did you attempt to find more about him, just then, thoughts of this stranger had already begun to occupy your mind— although not for the nicest of reasons.

Of course, as the rumors had rightfully said, Aeneas was a man of incomparable beauty. Added a dose of mystery and aloofness to the mixture, it was a sure way to catch the attention of those around him— if not, enthrall their hearts. If you were to be honest, no man or woman you knew could have ever hoped to compete with him in such unfair terms. There was a certain magnetism to his appearance that would compel anyone to stay a little longer, and behold his fair countenance. Nonetheless, he had an aura of hostility that warned others to stay away— something dark that disturbed your soul deep inside.

And you didn't like it in the slightest.

Nanna and you sat under the shade of a gazebo, surrounded by flower beds of varied layouts and colors. Agnese was very fond of beautiful gardens and hadn't given it a second thought in spending a fortune on them, for her personal delight. Even you, as uninterested as you were in her life pursuits, had to agree that it was an exquisite sight to lay eyes on.

This was a place that you always frequented and the amenable environs, more often than not, made you lose track of time. Contemplation and daydream were sure to ensnare you in the gentle caress of the floral breeze and the sweet songs of birds. The murmur of clear waters, spraying and pooling inside ponds covered in turquoise tiles, comforted you as you basked in the joy of this slice of heaven. This was the closest you would ever get to paradise on Earth, and if it was anything like the Fields of the Blessed then you hoped father was happy on the other side.

But while you dearly tried to find respite that afternoon, your mind refused to be indulging.

Dinner transpired in the company of Aeneas, but you didn't participate. Instead, you retired for the night— since you were supposed to be in bed, by then— and ate with Nanna in your bedroom. When you were done, she intended to put you to sleep but you were having none of that. This time, you had to be the one looking after her.

You offered to massage her swollen legs and joints, with an ointment meant to ease her discomfort and improve the circulation of blood. She opposed at first but you convinced her to let you help.

Obviously, you didn't mind doing these favors for Nanna. In fact, it was the least you could do to thank her for all the care and affection she had given you. Nanna was a motherly figure to you, maybe even more so than Agnese had ever been in all those years. If there was someone who showed you warmth and love when father was gone, and stayed by your side despite the resentment you held, it was her.

Agnese lived in her own world, but you tried to be understanding regardless of your disappointment.

If the baroness had known about this, she would not have let you hear the end of it. Her daughter doing something so lowly, as touching the feet of a mere servant, was unthinkable. Even if it happened the be the woman who had changed her diapers, and endured her endless tantrums, when Agnese was a capricious little girl— eating dirt, slobbering on her first and, in general, craving for the attention of those around her.

Oh, yes, you knew all too well about those childhood episodes, but Agnese liked to believe she had always been a graceful white dove. It was something you found funny, though Nanna had made you swear that you'd never bring up the subject in her presence. Not a single mention about the embarrassment of Agnese's infancy should ever leave your lips.

Thank the Savior, your nanny didn't have to put up with those kinds of situations anymore. Neither with the imp you used to be, though Nanna once assured she would have preferred that you stayed a baby girl. When children were small and innocent, life and its problems were much simpler but as they grew up the challenges became more grueling to face.

You underestimated those words, back then.

"I don't know, Nanna." Eyeing the manual on reflexology techniques, lying by your side, you gently rubbed a certain spot on the sole of her feet with your thumbs. "That man... there's something about him that tells me he's not to be trusted. I'm not sure how to explain it, but I do not like him and I'm worried that mother has offered him to stay with us."

Even if he had ill intent, it was unlikely he could do something against anyone living in your house, with the knights guarding the well-being of your family. While it wasn't an absolute safeguard, given the bizarre encounter you experienced with the cloaked stranger— though that was actually debatable, in the absence of concrete evidence and the implication of your apparent delirium— at least it should have provided some peace of mind.

However, it didn't.

"(Y/N), you're doing it again..."

Even before looking at her, you could sense the disapproving look she was sending your way.

"Doing what?" Pausing in your reflections, and in the task at hand, you met her gaze— oh, were you right about that furrow of her brows— unsure as to what she meant.

"Worrying too much. I swear that, by the time you reach thirty, your head is going to be all covered in gray hair. Why must you insist on finding something to stress about?"

You huffed and crossed your arms, in disbelief at her words. "You cannot tell me you're not even a bit bothered by this! A stranger in our house... who knows what could happen? I understand that he did a very noble deed for me, and that mother is grateful, but who's to say that he does not have other intentions?"

Nanna tried to dismiss your concerns, maybe in an effort to make you forget such matters and be at ease. "Ah, you are getting too anxious over nothing. I'm sure that everything will be fine, you'll see. Either way, there's not much we can do, (Y/N). Your mother already seems to be... fond of that young man, and she has her reasons to feel this way. Besides, I do not believe Aeneas will be staying for very long." She made a face that spoke of discomforts and doubts that did nothing to appease your fears, however. "Or that is what I hope, at least..."

"You say that she has taken a liking to him..." You arched an eyebrow at her. "A man she barely knows?"

Nanna only gazed at you with guilt etched on her face, before hurrying to reply. "Well, it was to be expected. He saved you, her only daughter. Would you not be grateful if you were in her place? What if you had died back there? Oh, by the mercy of the great Sparda, I don't want to think what would have happened..."

"Yes, I am aware of that but why would she allow him to stay? Does he not have somewhere else to go— something to do?"

Her chuckle made you frown, whilst you observed a mischievous smile play on her lips. "And here I was fretting you might find that young man a little too pleasant to look at... like some of the girls in this household. I though that you would be infatuated with him at first sight but, instead, you're in a hurry for him to leave!"

Your eyes widened at the lone suggestion that you could like him in that sense. Of course you didn't blame those women for taking a fancy on Aeneas, but that wasn't the point of this conversation!

"Nanna, do not jest with me. I am serious about this."

She cleared her throat and regarded you with earnestness. "Alright, forgive me for that. As for Aeneas, I heard that he's come from America. That is why your mother offered him abode in this house."

"America?!" you squealed in surprise, unable to control your outburst at her revelation. Nanna made a hushing sound and, realizing your mistake, you mumbled an embarrassed apology. After you found composure, you spoke with demure, "but that's beyond a huge ocean, on the other side of the world! What reason could he have to be here?"

This island wasn't much of an interesting destination for travelers, although foreigners weren't unheard of. Fortuna was a close-knit community that had endeavored to preserve its customs, and traditions, throughout the generations. Therefore, it didn't allow many influences of the outside world that could threaten the identity and hegemony of its culture. However, this didn't mean that tourism wasn't an occurrence from time to time, but it was still a small market in development. With the stories and rumors that had spread about this place, many tried to steer clear from it.

In a way it seemed you were an oddity to the rest of the world, more or less— not to mention an outrage for other religions that had tried to destroy your beliefs in the past. There were people that still considered you to be some kind of demented cult that made human sacrifices in honor of their demon overlords. A most ridiculous notion born from ignorance and misinformation, it went without saying.

Times changed and humans were forced to play along with the designs of Lady Fortune— who decides the fates of entire civilizations on her wheel— as they always had. But there is no luck, whether good or bad, that lasts an eternity and one should be hopeful as well as careful to remember that.

It was with the spread of modernism, as ironical as it sounded for a traditional society such as yours, that your people saw an opportunity for progress. A chance to trade a world trapped in years of fear, and obscurity, for a better tomorrow. So in the light of these absurd tales that others enjoyed to concoct in vivid detail, Fortunians aimed to cleanse their reputation and, for this reason, opened the doors to their home. It was to show others that your community was civilized and hospitable. You had learned to thrive in peace, despite a history of violence, and were willing to cultivate relations with other states, in order to favor trade and the betterment of the economy for all parties involved.

"It would have been rude to send him away without any kind of courtesy or compensation. This is a mere formality, and a polite gesture that Agnese wishes to bestow upon him. I do not see why you're so against it."

She was right for the most part. If only you could be more precise with your words and find an actual motive upon which to lay the foundations of your concerns. Sure, there were many red flags waving in the deep recesses of your mind but, despite your attempts to apply logic in your thoughts, you always came empty-handed regarding why Aeneas seemed to present a danger. You were certain that his grouchy expression, or his rather indifferent attitude towards others, couldn't be used as excuses for that. The man had done nothing that could be considered suspicious per se, but it wasn't enough to dispel your doubts.

"In that case, then I should be more at ease," said Nanna, to your confusion. "With the way other girls talked about him, I worried that he might have easily swayed your heart."

She couldn't be serious about it. You hoped this wasn't the case, at least.

"Ha! Even if that was his intention, which I highly doubt, he would need to try harder. Besides, the man looked so miserable when we met that I'm very much surprised he could have the ability to enrapture anyone— let alone my mother, of all people. Would it be too risky to think she's the one who finds him attractive, after all?"

"What are you saying? Be more respectful of your mother, young lady!"

You should have seen that coming from a mile. Even if Agnese treated her poorly, at times, Nanna would never let you badmouth her.

"It was a simple observation," you offered as defense. "I would not presume to make such a daring judgment."

Nanna looked relieved with your response, and her features softened. "Bah, maybe he's just one of those nosy investigators that have nothing better to do with their time. Remember that the Festival of the Sword is approaching soon. From what I've heard, he is making some sort of study on our religion— for personal reasons. It would appear that Aeneas is not keen on sharing tidbits of his private life, much any less with me, so I wouldn't know what else to tell you."

That was true. People who visited Fortuna were, for the most part, researchers that wished to learn more of your society and history, or journalists seeking sensational stories on the occult. There were even those that craved danger and adventure, hoping to have some kind of supernatural encounter with demonic beings. When you thought about it, maybe the paranormal tourism could have been a profitable market... if Fortuna wasn't so bent on giving the impression of an ordinary place.

Either way, Aeneas didn't appear to be any of those types of travelers but there was no way you could determine his true motives as of yet.

"And you don't think that merits enough attention? We are ignorant of what he really intends to do, and if he has something to hide then it means he's up to no good. I cannot believe mother has agreed to this. And even if it was true that he's making research, are we supposed to be some kind of rare species for him to observe in their natural habitat? He could very well be trying to smear on the reputation we've been building for years. Words and facts can be twisted; lies become truths when there are enough people willing to believe them."

"Do you honestly think Agnese has not assessed this young man already, or that she is incapable of protecting her own interests?"

"That's not what I—"

"If Aeneas wants to make his research here, then we'll limit our relationship with him to that purpose. You don't have to become his friend or be happy with his presence."

"But if he—"

"And that will be the end of the story."

"Are you—?"

"(Y/N), what are you so afraid of? One would think that this man has offended you, somehow. Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

"No." Your reply was swift and confident, but Nanna wasn't convinced by it despite your efforts to cover up your disgruntlement.

"Are you sure?" She was suspicious of your strange behavior already. To be honest, you wished you could have had a solid argument against him, but your problem was that precisely— you had none. A hunch wasn't enough to call Agnese's decisions into question.

Clearing your throat, you regarded her with a blank stare. "There's nothing else to add to this story. I was at the quay, approached the rail, fell into the sea and almost drowned. Then Aeneas appeared in our lives, and mother thought it would be a fantastic idea to let this outsider stay with us. Why should I have to explain that?"

"Because you're not being yourself. I know there is something bothering you but, unless you tell me, I cannot help you. You're expecting others to read your mind and immediately know what's troubling you."

"Enough!" you snapped, making Nanna flinch at your sudden reaction. "I don't understand your need need to probe me for answers that I have already given you."

Answers that you knew were wrong.

Nanna narrowed her eyes and thinned her lips. "You're acting like an upset little girl when things don't go her way. If you didn't want to talk about it, then why even mention the topic in the first place?"

Her tone was harsh and surely made you realize how rude you'd been when she only meant well. A patient didn't go to a physician, seeking treatment for an illness, only to refuse any help when he was asked of his condition.

You didn't know what to say, so your first instinct was to lower your gaze— embarrassed at your outburst, again. Why could you not find temperance in your own emotions and thoughts? Nanna was right; you were throwing a tantrum like a child, instead of trying to be more pragmatic.

Ever since you realized that the demon attack wasn't real, that encounter with the cloaked stranger, you felt on edge... in constant fear that you were losing touch with reality little by little. Maybe it was true. You were probably losing your mind and, in the end, you would drive those you loved away.

"(Y/N)..." she mumbled but you didn't answer, which prompted another soft call from her. "Come here, please."

You couldn't do that, knowing that you'd wronged her unfairly. Right then, you were like an ostrich that had stuck its head in the sand and refused to acknowledge her.

This wouldn't do for her, however. With some difficulty, Nanna sat up— groaning all the while, as she struggled with the weight of her body and her tired muscles. Forsaking your ashamed stupor, you shook your head and told her to stay put. Despite your protests, she didn't listen.

"I'm sorry for being terrible, Nanna. I must be an annoyance to you."

Placing an arm around your shoulders, she brought you closer to her. "You never are a nuisance for me, (Y/N). I forbid you to think like that ever again, do you hear me?"

Here you were claiming to be worried about her health, yet you kept throwing your fears and animosity at her. Oh, how could she even put up with you?

"I did not mean to..."

"I know you didn't and, to tell you the truth, I understand your suspicions about Aeneas. I am a little worried, too, but I don't think he should be reason for you to lose your nerve or sleep."

"I surely hope he is not." Laughing under your breath, you rested your cheek against her and stared at your naked toes. Then, a thought came to mind and you frowned with determination. "However, rest assured that I will be keeping an eye on him... just in case."

At that moment, Nanna seized your shoulders and held you at arm's length, narrowing her green eyes. Meanwhile, you began to regret having said those words.

"I don't know what you are planning to do but, please, try to stay out of trouble this time."

"Whatever do you mean by that?" You feigned not to understand what she was talking about, but you should have known by then that it was futile to try and fool her.

"You know what I mean, (Y/N). For your own good, you'd better heed my advice."

You sighed with weariness and rolled your eyes, pursing your lips tight before trying to smile. "Very well, I will. Do not worry about me."

Nanna nodded, pleased at your reply, though you didn't know whether to feel relief or remorse. "That is enough for now. Thank you, little sparrow. I'm feeling much better after such a wonderful massage. I swear those hands of yours are divine."

Her words elicited a chuckle from you. "Oh, please. Even I can tell you're trying too hard to flatter me. We both know you only say that so I keep rubbing your sore feet because no one else will."

"I wouldn't say it if it was not the truth!" She put on an offended expression and you laughed, patting her back.

"Of course." You glanced at the clock on the wall and realized that it was getting late. "Well, as much as I would love to stay and talk some more, I should be going to bed."

"That's right; off to bed with you! You should be sleeping by now, and I don't want to hear you've been reading until late hours of the night." She shooed you, while you stood up and gathered the book with the blankets piled in a bunch by her feet.

"Yes, ma'am!" Once you had tucked her in bed, and kissed her forehead, she gave you a look of nostalgia that had you wondering if there was something wrong. "What's on your mind?"

She shook her head, smiling. "Nothing of importance, but it is odd to see that our roles have reversed."

"Really? Is it so strange that I do these things for you?"

"Ah, you don't understand, (Y/N)I. When you were a little child, clinging to my dress, it was me who tucked you in bed and kissed you goodnight."

"Well..." you pinched her chubby cheeks and giggled. "Now it's me the one doing that."

"I wish you would have never grown up," she said suddenly, catching you off guard. "I wish no one would take you from me. Forgive me for being so selfish, my girl."

Your heart ached at the sorrow in her eyes, and you sought the right words to comfort her despite your dismay. For a moment, you understood what she had gone through when your father was dying, and you felt sorry for having been less than compassionate. You knew that, deep down, she was scared of the future and, if truth be told, and as odd as it sounded... so were you.

"Then I'll tell my husband-to-be that, if he wishes to marry me, he will have to accept my cherished old nanny as part of the deal as well. What do you think about that, Ms. Giovanna?"

"Well, it's unlikely Agnese will agree with that condition."

You placed a finger on your lips and spoke in a tone above a whisper. "Shh, she doesn't have to know. We'll smuggle you out of this house when the time comes."

Her laughter warmed your heart, and you were content to see her happy. "Oh, (Y/N)... what would I do without you?"

"Well, for starters you would be lying in bed, complaining about sore feet and achy joints."

"That is why I have you."

"Do not push your luck," you told her with a sly smile and then wished her goodnight. Again, she reminded you not to get in trouble and you squinted your eyes at her as you walked out of her bedroom.

To be fair, you sensed it was going to be difficult to keep your word, but you didn't believe the consequences would be severe. All you knew was that you had to tread carefully, but how far would you be allowed to go, before you were caught in a trap?

With no leads, you'd have to wait and see how the situation developed. Nothing else. After all, there was no actual reason for you to be so paranoid about the presence of a simple man, and you needed to let go of this sudden trepidation lingering inside.

If only it were so easy.

Despite Nanna's advice for you to sleep, you couldn't surrender your soul to the world of dreams. After the experience you had undergone, you weren't in a hurry to go to that place again where illusions became a bizarre and scary reality.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you'd retrieved the Song of Ilium— from its place in the drawer of your oddly neat desk— and it wasn't long before your nose was buried in its pages. It belonged to the beloved collection of your father, Teofilo— one of several literary compositions that he had treasured throughout his lifetime. Like his grandfather before him, he'd been fond of compiling these works in their original languages, given his fascination with philology from a very young age.

It wasn't too hard to guess that you held affection for these books, though your love didn't exactly spring from any natural attachment to literature. Diving in those pages made you feel at home again, reminded you of the times father had read stories for you before tucking you in bed. They brought back happy memories when he was still with you, and every time you read them you hoped to hear his comforting voice once more.

You could recall those long afternoons you spent in his study, sitting on his lap as you assimilated the knowledge he shared with diligent interest. Each day with him presented a new challenge that you endeavored to conquer. There were occasions that Nanna had to drag you out of there when he was very busy, and you had your own obligations, though he always promised to see you before going to bed. No matter what, he always kept his word.

And his riddles. Oh, they were one of your favorite parts— a treat for your curious and restless mind. As easy or as difficult as they could be, you never turned down an opportunity to find answers for puzzling questions. Sometimes it would take you days to figure them out, if they proved to be especially tricky to piece together. But even when he offered to reveal the solution, and teased you to give up, you wouldn't admit defeat. The thrill of accomplishment was too much for you to surrender, and father was well aware of that. Perhaps he found it hilarious when you crossed your chubby arms, furrowed your brows, and answered with a squeaky 'no'.

However, his last riddle before he passed away had left you in a dead end. You recalled the words he had said when you saw him alive for the last time, despite Agnese's wishes, and asked him to tell you a riddle. You'd assured him that you would have the answer the next time you visited.

"It is weightless and carefree as a child, but the more you carry it in time... a ponderous weight it becomes."

Several years after his passing, you still had little idea of what he had meant. If that wasn't enough, to add to your bewilderment, he said that in all probability its meaning would be lost until you were much older, and you wondered why would you have to wait so that you could comprehend at long last. To be honest, this was a secret you'd never shared with anyone else. Never did you ask others about this riddle because you wanted to find the answers yourself. You believed it was for the best to heed your father's words and reach that understanding he spoke about, a knowledge that only time could bestow.

As you curled in bed with the Song of Ilium in your hands, you noticed the cotton bookmark you had placed in Book XVIII and decided to continue from that particular page. However, even as you became immersed in the story of the epic, you realized— much to your chagrin— that this wasn't the most suitable way to dismiss concerns from your mind.

Aeneas...

Aeneas.

The mythical hero, of course. Why did the connection not occur to you before? It felt like you'd completely forgotten about it. Needless to say, this wasn't helping matters at all but you wouldn't let the thought of him take your enjoyment away.

It shouldn't have bothered you that much. However, the more you kept reading that name... the more you began to associate his face with that of the Dardanian prince. That could have worked better, if it wasn't for the fact that the Aeneas from the book spoke far more than you imagined the other Aeneas had probably done in his entire life. No doubt that was an exaggeration, but your point still stood.

You weren't satisfied with that comparison. Maybe he could be arrogant, cruel and selfish like proud Achilles, instead of the embodiment of Roman virtues Aeneas was supposed to be in the Aeneid? You weren't sure you wanted to know, but it was a good question as any. Then again, why did you care?

Just when you decided to call it a night, your stomach growled in hunger.

Trying to get some sleep like this would be futile, so you set the book aside and prepared to leave your bedroom in the hunt for something to eat. The kitchens were your destination, and you traversed the long dark corridor towards the stairs. You weren't going to wake up Nanna, or the cook, for a simple sandwich that you were capable of making with your own hands. Agnese used to do that, every time, and it was a habit of hers you weren't fond of. The poor cook deserved his rest after a long day of work. You were sure he had more than enough stress with the visit of a guest, whom Agnese was striving to please.

Never mind that. If Aeneas was to stay, then you'd have to deal with it.

Despite the ostensible emptiness of the house, you knew that there were knights standing guard. Most of them were patrolling outside but, given that it was just an ordinary night, the security was more lax. On your way, you found one of them and he was a little startled to see you— eyeing you nervously, as you approached. When he asked you what you were doing up so late, you explained that you only wished something to eat.

"Very well, miss. Call me if you need anything."

Your journey finally came to an end as you reached the kitchens, and you made it your mission to prepare a sandwich that would sate your appetite. You had to admit you didn't know your way around that place very well, as it was mostly foreign territory. Still, it wasn't that difficult to guess where the ingredients were kept and, soon, you were working towards your goal. Your stay was brief and, once you were done with your meal, you made sure to leave everything the way it was before returning to your chambers for the night.

But when you were climbing the stairs, you heard a noise which had you snapping your head towards it in panic. There was nothing that you could identify as immediate danger, however. Scolding yourself mentally, you tried to shake off that sensation of fear clinging to your skin and resumed your path but, then, the sound of distant footsteps caught your attention.

Another abrupt stop, and you were holding your breath as you looked around. To your dismay, the knight was nowhere to be found in his post downstairs— where did he go, you wondered— so you couldn't count on him to lend you a hand. Well, perhaps he was the one that had caused those noises but... you had a strange feeling that this pattern of footsteps didn't belong to him.

You hurried towards the second story, endeavoring to be as quiet and quick as possible. The footsteps persisted for a few seconds and then stopped.

"Sir knight, is that you?" you called, standing at the end of the corridor, but only a whisper of silence answered for him. "Hello?"

Where was that light switch when you needed it? You couldn't see very well in the darkness, and you struggled to make out a dark silhouette that was apparently standing before a door. What would he even be doing here?

Assuming that it was the knight... and not something else. Which led you to a dreadful realization that made you wish you had remained blissfully unaware.

Were you having hallucinations again?

Walking on the tip of your toes, you huddled against the wall and tried to make yourself as small as possible— hiding from the figments of your own imagination. Deep inside you were afraid of what you would find this time, but you needed to know what was going on. You wanted to see where the lines of reality and delusions blurred. In a sense, you supposed that it turned you into a masochist.

There was something you couldn't ignore about your surroundings, no matter how hard you tried— something you'd sensed before but didn't take the time to analyze. It was a patent change in the air, a shift in energy that you began to perceive in every fiber of your being. Without words, it seemed to command your absolute submission and fear whatever being was behind this work of evil.

This couldn't be a simple illusion... or you didn't want to contemplate the notion, at least. Better to keep your wits about you, lest you began a descent into a dark place that you certainly didn't want to see again. With this in mind, you steeled your heart intent on seeking the truth. Maybe that was the reason you didn't turn back and ran away to the safety of your covers. To be honest, more than once you felt tempted to do so but the other part of you— that which needed answers, whatever they might have been and regardless of how terrifying they could be— wouldn't surrender so easily despite the odds.

"Stop tormenting me, whatever you are. Begone, foul creature. Sparda compels you!" you hissed just above a whisper, but the shape didn't budge. "Leave—!"

All of a sudden, muffled laughter drifted in the air and startled you into turning around in a haste. You wouldn't deny that you were scared, and your reaction wasn't the most level-headed one.

"Who's there?" Raising your voice, you found yourself growing more nervous by the moment with no idea what was going on.

So focused were you on your muddled thoughts, and such was your apprehension, that you squeaked like a scared mouse at the echo of a door creaking closed. Your heart skipped a beat, as you gazed at the endless corridor ahead and noticed the dark silhouette had disappeared.

There had to be a logical explanation for this. Or that was your wish, at least. Assuming that it was a person, to begin with. It could have been one of the attendants, but the domestic service didn't usually linger in this wing of the house at late hours of the night. They had separate accommodations to that effect, and this part of the mansion mostly remained unoccupied except when you had relatives staying and guests—

Aeneas...

Oh, well... it was a good possibility, but what was he doing wandering in the dead of the night? Granted you were out of bed, too, but your paranoia was taking over as you identified this behavior as something that could be considered suspicious. Though you needed to take this whole matter with a pinch of salt and try to investigate a bit more, before drawing hasty conclusions.

Something told you that you were going to regret this. Nanna had warned you to keep your distance with him, and you were doing the opposite of that. You supposed there was no danger if you tried to use a stealthy approach, but the silence was so loud that you could hear your own breathing and even your blood rushing with adrenaline. In fact, your sense of hearing seemed to have heightened to unusual levels in your state of trepidation, as you ventured further into the wolf's lair.

It was funny to think about it. This was your house yet you felt like an intruder, a trespasser that feared to be caught and punished.

You allowed your senses to guide you, your gut doing rapid flips as you pushed forward. This stifling atmosphere was suffocating you and clawed at the walls of your mind, almost as if it wanted to dominate you with mindless fear. Your heart was beating fast, so fast you could hear it pounding in your ears as your body quivered at the uncertainty that was overwhelming you.

But if it had been him... would he not have come forward and said something when you called? Oh, indeed, he could have done such a thing and, had that been his choice, then you would have turned around and gone to your bedroom. However, he chose not to; therefore, he had deliberately attempted to make his presence go unnoticed and you would have liked to know why— what was he hiding.

Most importantly, what if it wasn't Aeneas? What if it was no one? Regardless of your attempts to impose order in your thoughts, you'd come full circle at the starting point.

"I will fear no evil. Even if I walk in dark and desolate places, He will protect me. The Lord is my Savior, my sword and shield. He will not forsake me," you mumbled to reassure yourself. It was a good time as any to commend your soul to Him.

You definitely were a masochist, weren't you? Who in their right mind would put themselves through this psychological torture at will?

As you approached one of the rooms, you took notice of the muffled noises coming from within. It was the library— you recognized those double doors— nothing glaringly suspicious about it, but this wasn't the most appropriate time to do some study.

You tried to search for a shred of light at the bottom but it was dark, though that didn't exactly mean there was no one inside. It could be Aeneas, but for all you knew he could have also been fast asleep and you were accusing him of some absurd conspiracy. In cases such as this, you had to give him the benefit of the doubt at the very least.

However, when you stood by the door, the noises stopped altogether and you furrowed your brows in confusion. Stepping closer, still on the tip of your toes, your hand grazed the wood and you pressed your ear against it, trying to hear something. Anything.

There was only silence from the other side.

Slowly, you let out the breath you'd been holding and gulped the knot in your throat. If this was a game your mind was playing with you, then you found no fun or joy in it.

You were overcome by a sense of dejá vu and remembered what had happened that night when you saw the cloaked stranger. The situation had been similar to this! You didn't know what was happening anymore. Was it man? Demon? A vision? You had no idea what you were dealing with, at this point, and that scared you even more.

You drew away and took a few steps back, trying to put your mind at ease. But just as you thought about turning back and leaving for good, you felt something grab a hold of your shoulder— causing you to squeal in mindless fright. You probably jumped several feet in the air, so high that it felt as if your soul had left your body— never to return again.

"Miss, it's alright. Fear not!"

Once you were able to calm down, and have a better look at the owner of the voice, you stared into the brown eyes of a young man. It didn't take you long to identify him as the knight you had come across with a while ago, before heading to the kitchens. He stood in front of you, wearing an expression of awkwardness at your overreaction, a little flushed and out of breath too— which made you take notice of the dim lights that revealed his features.

Needless to say, you were angry that he had sneaked upon you like that and almost scared you to death.

"Sparda, take me away!" you managed to utter with a shaky voice, clutching your chest as you drew in shaky breaths. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

"Forgive me. It was not my intention to frighten you, miss, but I called and you gave no answer. I wondered if you were in need of anything, since I heard your voice."

He sounded genuinely regretful, and your expression softened at his words. It occurred to you that you'd strayed from your course, and he was only making sure that nothing bad had happened. Of course you didn't want to tell him of the strange noises that led you here. You suffered enough embarrassment, when you claimed there had been an intruder in your house, that you preferred not to disclose any details. Instead, you made up a lie.

"I think I got a little disoriented for a moment. My mind is still a bit fuzzy, after that unfortunate incident at the quay."

How weird it must have been for him to see you  walk down the corridor, alone in the dead of the night, muttering some gibberish under your breath, before stopping to press your ear against a random door. You probably looked like a lunatic in his eyes, and you wouldn't blame him for that.

"I see." He nodded in understanding and then looked down, crossing his arms behind his back. "Miss, I'm in no position to tell you what to do, but it would be advisable to return to your bedroom. It's late, and you need your rest to recover soon."

That was your cue to leave. You threw a dubious glance to the door, but then shook any thoughts on playing detective for the time being and gave the man a forced smile.

"Thank you, I will. Goodnight, sir knight."

Rushing to your chambers, you tried to disregard certain ideas forming in the back of your mind and prepared yourself for bed as though nothing had happened. You weren't planning on telling Nanna, either way, so as not to put unnecessary distress on her.

After cleansing your teeth and brushing your hair, you climbed under the sheets and gazed at the ceiling for a long time. Then closed your eyes and willed yourself to fall into a fitful dream.

Dawn broke, and with it a new day came.

Too bad you hadn't slept very well, and it showed on your face— to Nanna's consternation. As expected from her, she nagged you until you confessed that you'd stayed reading until late.

She raised her hands in the air, as a manner of prayer, and you couldn't help but chuckle in spite of her dramatic moment.

"Sparda, give me patience with this child."

"Don't be so exaggerated, Nanna. It will be fine." You sipped the warm honeyed milk from the cup in your hands. You were having breakfast in your bedroom, and it made you think of how inconvenient it must have been for others to bring your meals there. Hopefully, you wouldn't have to stay here any longer. "I could not sleep last night, so I thought doing something else would help. I didn't realize that it was so late."

"I swear, (Y/N), if you don't—"

"I said it will be fine. Stop worrying so much, please." As you snuggled on the settee by the window, you gazed outside to the gardens below and sighed. "Is it not a beautiful day? I would like to go to the gardens this morning. You don't have to accompany me, of course. I just wish to have a moment... please?"

Nanna stared with hands on her hips, as if trying to intimidate you, but in the end she gave in. "Very well, but finish your breakfast first otherwise I'm not letting you out of this room. Look at your scrawny constitution... it's unacceptable! And you will eat all your food today, no complaints."

"Alright. I will, for you dear Nanna," you said to placate her spirits and offered her your best smile.

Once you'd finished your meal, she helped you dress and braided your hair. Thank goodness no corset for you, only a loose dress to wear at home. You feared asking her if you were attending mass any time soon, but you guessed since you were recovering you wouldn't be able to travel to the business district. That was, if Agnese still allowed you to leave the estate, at all.

After you told Nanna that you'd remain close to the house, should she need you, you were on your way downstairs. You didn't want to remain confined in your bedroom, and Leoni hadn't specifically said that you couldn't go out and enjoy the day for a little while. In the meantime, you could pick a book to read or do revision for your lessons. Classes with your tutors had been suspended until further notice, so you needed to find some form of entertainment to keep your mind occupied with more productive thoughts.

Grabbing your notes, you dropped by the library and decided to fetch some reading material to complement your studies on biology. Once you found it, you headed to the hall where the butler greeted you.

"Good morning, miss (Y/N). I didn't expect to see you up so soon. How are you feeling today?"

"Good morning, Livio!" you greeted back with a cheerful mood, as you reached the bottom of the stairs. "I'm feeling much better, thank you. How are you today?"

"I am quite well, miss. Thank you," the older man said, bowing his head.

Looking around, you realized that the house was too quiet and wondered where Agnese might have been. "Where is my mother? Is she in town?"

"Indeed, miss. She left at the usual hour this morning but still hasn't returned."

You probably wouldn't be allowed to do the same in a while. Knowing her, she would argue that the world was too dangerous a place for you and, in a way, maybe she was right. It was evident to her that you couldn't take care of yourself, so the most obvious measure was for you to be confined at home for your own safety.

"If mother asks, tell her I will be in the gardens."

She could let you have that as consolation, no? This wasn't to say you were angry at her. There was no justifiable motive for you to blame her decisions on account of your irresponsible actions, neither did you want to argue about them. You'd only be making a fool of yourself in front of her.

"Of course, miss."

Waving your hand in farewell, you took your leave and crossed the threshold into the terrace that preceded the softer grounds covered in grass. Descending the white stone steps, you thought of seeking a comfortable place to shelter yourself from the sun— namely the gazebo where you'd spent time with Nanna the previous day, and your favorite spot throughout the years. You would have been lucky, if it wasn't for the fact that someone else had claimed it before you had the chance.

You didn't even have to guess who it was. Those locks of snow-white hair gave away the identity of the man that occupied your intended place, and you immediately knew that you'd come across none other than Aeneas. He was seated in one of the snug armchairs— foot propped over the opposite thigh, whilst an open book rested on his lap— lazily holding a glass of what you could identify as red wine in his hand. A rather self-assured and conceited posture for someone who wasn't in his own house, you noted. Also, was it not a little too early to be drinking alcohol? Your only hope was that your mother wasn't housing a dipsomaniac, but what did you know.

Aeneas seemed to be deep in thought, staring off into the blue sky in the horizon with a pensive frown— unaware of your presence or purposefully ignoring it. You bid him good morning once you were close enough, but your greeting went unanswered. Not what you were expecting. At the very least, you would have thought that he had some manners to speak of but you didn't let it bother you too much.

In all honesty, you were annoyed that he got to keep that spot but you wouldn't fight him over a matter so trivial— it was a stupid excuse. Either way, you didn't want to linger in his presence so you decided that you'd retire somewhere else to be alone and sulk. It was quite apparent he didn't make for enjoyable company, and you had no intention to see if he could prove you wrong. Actually, you shuddered at the thought of it despite the summer heat.

You walked farther away and settled under the shade of another gazebo, by the side of a small pond. Marble sculptures of classic design— artworks of the artists that Agnese had so graciously endorsed— lined up on the sidewalk, decked with colorful tulips. The green meadows extended towards the forest beyond and, diverting your gaze just a little, you could observe the cliff and old ruins overlooking the sea in the distance. It was said to be the place where numerous maidens were sacrificed to an old god, former lord of these lands.

Despite having lived here for many years, you'd never visited those remains. It was forbidden to go deep into the forest without any protection, and you doubted that Agnese would allow you to visit the Cliff of the Maiden— considering the terrible tales that surrounded it.

Though it would appear the opposite, yours wasn't a morbid curiosity. It was not your attraction to such a macabre story that piqued your interest, but what your father had once told you about a rare and extraordinary occurrence.

"Once a year, you can see the stars of the night sky in the sea."

Many lights gathered at the coasts for a few nights, before vanishing. Of course these weren't an inexplicable phenomenon, at least not anymore. They were sea fireflies, although popular beliefs once had it that they were the tears of the unfortunate maidens devoured by the terrifying snake of the seas.

Father had gone to the cliff, when he was younger, and he told you that the view of the sea fireflies was magnificent; a true spectacle worthy of witnessing in a lifetime. One day, he would take you there... but it was a promise he couldn't keep because he was gone.

And, in all probability, you would d never see it.

After a while, you considered it was time to return. The sun was high, and you surmised it would be noon soon. Thank goodness that Nanna had forced you to apply sunscreen, and wear a wide-brimmed summer hat, because the walk back was longer than you would have liked.

When you approached the gazebo Aeneas had been at earlier, you noticed that he was already gone but you didn't particularly care to know where he could be. Or maybe you should have, seeing as his presence wasn't something you could readily ignore. Though you couldn't prove anything as of yet— neither were you certain of what to look for— there was this lingering sensation that something was wrong with him.

You knew that you were being unreasonable, and even prejudiced, but you still didn't feel at ease around him neither with the idea of sharing the same space. Your energies seemed to clash; they were not in harmony, so to speak. It was hard to explain but, maybe, it could be best described as this hunch that one sometimes wouldn't get along with certain people... and, quite often, it was for a good reason.

Better to keep your eyes and ears open.

"Welcome back, miss (Y/N). How was your stay in the gardens?" Livio greeted you at the threshold, when you finally made it to the stone steps.

"It was... quite relaxing, I suppose," you droned with lassitude, not very eager to make small talk.

"Perhaps a cool drink will invigorate the young miss? After walking a distance under the sun, no doubt you need it."

"Is that... for me?" Your mouth felt dry once your eyes lay on the large glass with soft creamy liquid, sitting on the tray in his hand. Regardless of your efforts to hide your sudden craving, you were ogling that smoothie like your life depended on it and you could tell that, beneath that solemn mask Livio wore, he was amused at the silly expression of longing on your face.

"Indeed."

Obviously, he had anticipated your arrival since he was waiting for you with your prize— which you tried not to down with desperate chugs, in spite of the Atacama desert that your throat had become. Had Aeneas not claimed your gazebo first, you could have enjoyed the wonders of this ambrosia much sooner.

It took you some time to speak, and you heaved a contented sigh when you finished your drink. "That was delicious, thank you!"

"I am glad you found it to your taste."

"Has my mother returned yet?"

"Yes, miss. She is in her chambers resting, at the moment. Lunch will be ready soon, so perhaps you would like to refresh beforehand?"

"Yes, I would like that." You smiled, contemplating the idea of a shower and a change of clothes.

"Will you be joining your lady mother today, or would you prefer for your meal to be delivered to your room?"

"I will have lunch with my mother. Thank you."

"Very well, then. Shall I carry those books for you, miss?"

Shaking your head, you made sure to let him know that it would be no problem. "Do not worry, Livio. It's not that heavy a weight and I can manage just fine on my own. Besides, I will need them later."

Your desk would soon be a mess, no doubt, and it would be a miracle that you could even find anything.

When you climbed the stairs, you were surprised to cross paths with Aeneas again— going the opposite direction. From what you could see, his expression was apathetic, devoid of any joviality, and there seemed to be an ominous shadow looming over him as he descended with firm steps. The echo of his unhurried but steady tread made you slow down and, for a moment, you were transported back to the strange events of last night.

What an odd coincidence...

Except that it could not be.

Giving him a pointed look as he approached, you arched an eyebrow at the thought forming in your mind. Certainly you wouldn't be one to police the behavior of others, but you couldn't vouch for the actions of this man.

Aeneas had freshened up, if his damp but well groomed hair and different clothes were of any indication. There even was the faint fragrance of lavender and peppermint emanating from him, so it was easy to imagine that he had taken a liking to baths with scented oils.

You regarded him with reservations, waiting to see if he would say something. Maybe he actually didn't hear you the first time and, to test this theory, you decided to greet him again. To be honest, you weren't actually trying to strike an entertaining conversation. It was meant to be a polite gesture, nothing more.

Again, he didn't make any efforts to acknowledge your presence; merely walked past you without as much as a single word. This time, you were taken aback by his slight since it was unthinkable for a gentleman to behave in such an unbecoming fashion with a lady. You didn't think you'd done anything inappropriate that merited this rude treatment, so you couldn't understand his actions. However, it didn't help to improve your opinion on him.

What an uncouth man!

"So vulgar and hateful," you grumbled under your breath as you stomped to your chambers, feeling your dislike for Aeneas grow.

But soon you would find out that your aversion could only become stronger.

During lunch, Agnese was put to shame when her so called 'guest of honor' was nowhere to be seen. In a way, it made you happy that you wouldn't have to see his face, but his lack of consideration left much to be desired.

"What about Aeneas?" she had asked, rather confused and irked, as she was served the first course.

Livio shifted in his spot and exchanged an uneasy glance with the cook, before he replied. "Regrettably, Mr. Aeneas will not be able to join the lady and the young miss today. He seemed to be... very busy in the library when I spoke to him and sends his deepest apologies, my lady."

Apologies? You were beginning to doubt he even knew how to do that.

Agnese looked disappointed, but she soon covered up her morose expression with an attitude of casual dismissal. "Oh, well, perhaps we should leave him be. I have (Y/N) to keep me company, anyways."

You were bristling on the inside. Never mind that he had slighted you first, but doing so to the mistress that had generously put her home at his disposal was unacceptable. Rejecting an invitation to participate in a meal, while he was a guest in someone else's house, and for such petty reasons, wasn't something that one could easily overlook.

You and Agnese said a small prayer in thanks. In the seclusion of your thoughts, you asked Sparda that this man would leave soon because you were't sure you could live together under the same roof.

You had no wish to, either.

Trying to make some trivial conversation to dissipate the awkwardness of the moment, you turned to Agnese with a smile. "If I may ask, mother, how was your trip to the business district?"

She eyed you with suspicion but made no comment on your question, although you could tell she didn't wish to say much on the matter.

"Business, as usual. Nothing you should be worried about, my dear."

Your smile fell a little at her answer, and you gazed into your food— eating mostly in silence for the rest of lunch.

Tomorrow you would resume lessons with your tutors, Agnese informed you out of nowhere at some point of the meal. When it dawned on you what she had said, you began to panic a little since you still had pending assignments— and it would be in your best interests to get them done before dusk.

You needed to focus on algebra and finishing an essay on the downfall of the Roman Empire but, for the life of you, you couldn't find one of the volumes you were supposed to read.

You asked Nanna if she'd seen it, by any chance, but she had no idea what you were talking about. Maybe you had left it somewhere downstairs, and it was placed in the wrong library.

Oh, this day kept getting better and better. Now you had to waste precious time that you could be spending writing the essay, instead of hunting for that blasted tome. In all honesty, you could have probably tried to make something up but you preferred not to be reprimanded, or punished, for not paraphrasing the book. It didn't matter to them whether you were knowledgeable in a topic or not. They wanted you to read the texts, so you had to do as you were told.

Where could it be?

Of course, the most obvious place to begin your search was the library. But there was this particular location that made you a little restless— as it was the one where you'd heard strange noises coming from, the previous night

Whether it was Aeneas or not, you couldn't deny there was something disturbing about this occurrence. Just thinking about it made you shiver, and you could feel that same fear crawl on your skin as the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. Why couldn't you get rid of this sensation that was beginning to exasperate you beyond belief?

Enough of this. You needed that book and you were going to get it.

However, you had yet another none too pleasant surprise when you opened the door and walked inside. Your first thought was a resounding 'why?', accompanied by a 'he's everywhere!', though you managed to keep your mouth shut. Truly, you weren't expecting to find him here neither did you look forward to seeing him again. Sometimes it felt as though this house was too small for the two of you, because that day you kept encountering him at every turn— to your utter discontent.

Certain thoughts lingered, but you chose not to inquire any further in the face of insufficient proof to back up your claims.

"Good afternoon." Your words were curt as you spoke. Deep down, you weren't even waiting for a response— just looking for an excuse to argue and let out your frustration.

Unsurprisingly, this was the third time he didn't respond or acknowledged you. You shouldn't have been that irritated, given how predictable were his actions, but his lack of manners and grandiose sense of self-worth was beginning to get on your nerves.

So you let him know.

"Excuse me but, by any chance, are you mute or deaf? I don't recall my mother using sign language to speak with you."

It was a rhetorical question. You knew his ability for speech wasn't impaired, and he could hear you as well, but perhaps sarcasm was a language of which he had a better understanding.

The white-haired man slowly tore his gaze away from the pages of the book in his hands and stared at you. For a moment, he gave the impression to be debating whether you were worthy of his time or not. Or he thought he could try to intimidate you with that sharp look. In another situation, you could have been daunted but you were too irritated to feel that way.

After a while, Aeneas finally deigned himself to speak.

"As you may appreciate, I am not. Hopefully, you have satisfied your curiosity," he stated with a flat and slightly nasal voice. Strange. One would have thought there was sufficient airflow going through those big nostrils, if his nose made up for a quarter of his face.

His pronunciation had a slight accent to it but he spoke with decent fluency, nevertheless. Aeneas was foreign, of course; not from this region. You recalled Nanna saying that he hailed from the United States and you had to say, if all Americans were anything like him, you were not impressed.

With a grunt of derision, he returned to his reading material without a pinch of self-consciousness or remorse. It was as though he hadn't even detected the irony in your words or, as it was your belief, didn't care the slightest about them.

"Oh, I have, indeed! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to pass judgment on your character. I found it most insightful."

At least you knew what you were dealing with.

"You dare to make presumptions about me, based on a few words?" His blue eyes flashed a glare that had you smiling on the inside.

Your gaze strayed to the bookcase as you paced around the room, intent on showing him that he wouldn't make you feel belittled in spite of his efforts.

"Oh, it's that simple. When it comes to the likes of you, I do not believe much else is needed."

The scrunch of his nose was hard to miss, even as he tried to remain indifferent to your remark. "You're too impertinent for a young girl."

"And you're too arrogant for a man who wants to appear as charitable and selfless, even when your disposition proves otherwise."

A pregnant silence followed, as you stared at each other from opposite sides of the room. The dull sound of the fans that spun above, dispersing the afternoon heat, was the only thing that disturbed the taciturnity of this tense moment. It was more than evident that he was assessing you without any shame, his gaze sweeping your form from head to toes. Being under the scrutiny of that piercing gaze was uncomfortable, you had to admit it, but you wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of seeing you withdraw.

Unfortunately, there was a sudden knock on the door so it was a lost contest the moment you got distracted and looked away. Yet, to your relief, his attention too had been diverted and you didn't have to feel embarrassed at your startle.

After another knock, it became obvious that he wasn't going to say anything so you took it upon yourself to respond.

"Come in." You only hoped it wasn't Nanna looking for you... or Agnese— though that was very unlikely. Soon enough, she would be gathering with guests and having a merry time herself.

In walked a young maid, Ofelia, carrying a tray in her hands. Her brown eyes widened a little and she came to a halt, upon taking notice of your presence.

"Oh." She lowered her gaze, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to intrude."

Being caught alone with this man was an awkward situation, but you were guilty of nothing. You didn't even want to cross paths with him.

"You interrupted nothing. Rest easy," you reassured her.

Ofelia nodded before stepping further inside, in Aeneas's direction. "Sir, I brought you something to eat and the wine you—"

"I want nothing," he grumbled, clearly upset, not even bothering to say thanks. "Take it away."

Somehow, he was beginning to remind you of Agnese when she was in a bad mood.

The maid looked at him with confused awe then glanced your way, unsure. It felt as though she was waiting for you to give her further instructions, or silently asking for your help. To be honest, even you were dubious of what to do given your second-hand embarrassment. At least, the charming effect Aeneas had on her was starting to wear off. Thank goodness.

"Does the young miss wish for anything?"

"I'm fine, thanks. I will soon be on my way out, either way."

"Very well. Excuse me, then. Miss. Sir." She fetched the empty glass sitting on the table, by Aeneas's side, then made a quick curtsy and took her leave. You couldn't help but feel sorry for her. It was enough to deal with Agnese's mood swings, but at least she was getting paid well for it— not that it could justify such a thankless job.

Once she had closed the door behind her, you crossed your arms and glared at Aeneas in reproach. "Could you be more haughty and childish, I wonder?"

"What do you want?" His annoyance and disgust were becoming more difficult to conceal, yet that didn't stop you. Maybe then he would change his mind and go away.

"From you? I only expected a little courtesy, but that seems to surpass your most basic capabilities." If he wanted to impose a vitriolic attitude around others, then he would get the same from you. "As for the reason I am here..." Approaching the bookcase, you let your fingers graze the leather spines and dedicated enough time to give the pretense your visit wasn't unjustified. "I'm in search of a certain tome. Do not flatter yourself thinking that I was looking for you."

Being and attractive man, he must have been under the false belief that every woman in this house sought his attention. As if!

"I would not consider it flattering, at all," Aeneas deadpanned, and you resisted the urge to growl.

This man had such a way of ruffling your feathers that you were beginning to loathe him in less than half an hour— an accomplishment in itself. It wasn't so much his insult but the way he could keep his composed demeanor, and even have the gall to retort with such nonchalance, that made you so bitter.

Gritting your teeth, you practically snatched some random book from the shelf and turned around to meet his conceited expression. The smugness showed at the corner of his lips, barely but it was present, mocking you.

It was foolishness to try and strike a confrontation with him, but you would not tolerate his affront.

"You may have convinced my mother and this whole household that you're a hero, but even a hero loses his charm when he has no charisma and kindness."

"You must be mistaken, somehow; I never said that I was one. My guess is that you have read too many fairy tales about chivalrous knights and princesses. I would suggest that you attain to realistic expectations of the world, lest you are disappointed."

Ignoring his last words, you pushed the conversation back at him. "You're no hero, that is true. Yet you have no qualms in taking advantage of the high opinion others have of you, even if that reverence is undeserved."

"You claim I deserve no respect, yet you stand today with that defying attitude— blathering nonstop— thanks to me. Is this the way to show gratitude to someone who has saved your life, by attacking them and irritating them to the point of aggravation? Perhaps I should have left you to drown in the sea and given you a real reason to complain about. From the afterlife, of course."

Spoken like a true gentleman!

"My, what a curious sense of humor you have! If gratitude and recognition is what you care about, then make no mistake. I'm certainly grateful that you have come to my rescue that day, but let us make something clear. That does not mean I'll become blind to your rudeness and obsequious to your patronizing ways. If you were hoping for me to bow down and kiss your well-polished shoes, as you revel in the comfort of my own house, I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you."

Aeneas was ready to retaliate but, oh no, you wouldn't allow him to have the last word in this argument.

"I may have to excuse your behavior, on this occasion. I'm sure that all the wine you had today has dulled your thinking, and you actually didn't mean anything of what you've said. Not to fret, though, as I forgive you. However, from now on, you should be more careful with your intake of alcohol. It's bad for your health and... people may start talking, too." His stoic expression betrayed nothing, but you could see that his blue eyes blistered with rage as he tried to keep his breathing even. It was all you needed to have a small taste of victory and, before walking out of the door, you turned to give him a bright faked smile. "Have a good day, sir."

You were certain that if he could shoot daggers from his eyes, he would have stabbed you to death right then but you didn't care what he thought or whether he found you agreeable. To you, he was nothing more than a shady, arrogant, condescending, pompous moron that you needed to keep an eye on.

The gates of hell would sooner open again than you would change your opinion on him.

A/N: Wow, would you look at that? Vergil is still our lovable jerk and I think I managed not to butcher his character. Too much, at least?

Well, emm... Vergil drinking? It sounds weird, but it was a joke making reference to textsfromdmc in Tumblr, where Vergil is often portrayed as a guy with alcohol issues for funsies (well, pretty much everyone has alcohol issues). Seriously, after going through all those terrible things I would also need a drink. Plus, in the first novel Gilver drank a lot of booze in a contest with Dante, but he couldn't stand his alcohol so he lost consciousness and was robbed by the patrons (if you can believe it? What a loser lol). I should hope he's more resistant here!

In a way, I imagine Nero's parents like Sims. I could literally see the minus signs popping out of their heads while they interacted. As you can imagine, it's going to be more of an antagonistic relationship— at least in the beginning. I mean, it's Vergil... he's an a**hole. And he has a big nose. Just check it out. 

#vergil #devil may cry #dmc #dmc3 #dmc4 #classic vergil #my stories #i'll just leave this here