A/N: Yes, all butlers in my stories are named Sebastian.

[Daughter of House Sparda – Part Two]

"Sebastian." Vergil rested his utensils on the table in accordance to the table manners that he had been taught since young, making eye contact with the subservient butler who had faithfully been serving alongside his father for as long as he knew. Sebastian was around his father's age –he had been serving Sparda ever since Sparda became of age and starting taking over the roles of a Duke. To say he was a much-trusted family friend was an understatement; the man was better off as one of the Spardas. There was nobody in the Dukedom who did not know that Sebastian was also a mouthpiece of the ducal family.

"Yes, Young Master?"

"Send word to the castle. I will not be available for work today. I will be going out." He announced, turning to make eye contact to his father to seek approval. The nod of head from his father was good enough an indicator of approval for his silent question, and Vergil continued his instructions. "At the same time, cancel all of Acela's classes today. She shall go out with me today."

"Understood, my lord." Sebastian bowed and moved smoothly to inform the servants of his instructions, leaving only the Spardas in the dining hall.

"Not fair." Dante whined. "You already won today so Acela is sitting beside you. Now you're trying to dominate her time by bringing her out to play? You're not playing fair, Vergil!"

"If you think I am not being fair to you, then perhaps you might want to approach your employer the Prince to request for a leave of absence from your position?" Vergil suggested, picking up his utensils again and returning to his breakfast without offering his twin brother any look on the other side of the table.

"You know I can't do that!" Dante whined louder, completely unbecoming of the elder brother he was supposed to be. "You know I don't have enough days of leave left after that vacation with Lady Benkel."

"Excuse me for not joining you on your romantic vacation that had you returning to work with a palm-sized print on your face then." Vergil answered deferentially. "But I remain corrected: if you have any complaints with my taking leave from my position, then direct them to Prince Claude."

"You're not fair." Dante shoved the last of his breakfast into his mouth, then stood up abruptly, tucking in his shirt as he did so. "I'm going back to the palace, Dad. Maybe I'll be able to catch Claude in a good mood if I go talk to him now."

"It is a good thing that you have been waking up earlier and having your meals with us, Dante, but isn't it too... early for you to wake up to come to our estate for breakfast before going back to the castle for work?" The duke asked his son, who honestly looked as if he had been sleeping in his work uniform just so that he didn't have to sleepily change before riding a fast horse down from the castle in the morning.

"Yeah, it's crazy. But if I don't do this, then Vergil will make Acela forget that she has a second brother! He didn't play fair in the first place; he knew about Acela before I did and arranged to come back to stay here even before I became aware that I had such a lovely little sister. It's not fair that he gets to spend so much more time with her than I can just because I'm staying in the castle grounds."

"I won't forget you, Brother Dante." Acela spoke up softly. It had already been two weeks since Acela's entrance into the Sparda family, and though she was already looking much healthier and more like a normal child her age –which turned out to be three years more than what Vergil assumed based on her appearance –she was still rather shy and soft-spoken. Vergil could only silently hope that his sister would slowly open up her heart and her voice to them over time. He hoped that the noisiness that Dante was fond of making was a good enough indicator to the young girl that she was allowed to make as much noise as she wanted without fear of getting scolded for doing so.

"I know you wish you won't forget someone as memorable as me, Acela!" Dante exclaimed dramatically, giving himself a ridiculous flourish. "But while I don't doubt the place I have in your sweet little heart, I doubt Vergil's sinister manipulation. He is a man capable of reaching into your heart and erasing my space there. He is an evil, evil man set on removing me from your side."

While the drama that Dante attempted to put on for show might have been entertaining and amusing if the man was still a teenager Acela's age, the fact remained that Dante was 17 years old and clearly too old for such theatrics. Therefore, there was only a sigh of sarcasm that escaped Vergil at his twin's declaration, though he was silently glad at the small giggle that escaped his little sister sitting beside him.

He briefly looked over to find her small hands covering her small lips, the twinkle of amusement in her wide eyes, then instinctively turned to his father whose eyes were on the same subject as he. The look of gentle affection, the smile of amusement on the duke's expression had been gone for so long (ever since news came about his mother's numbered days).

"Then, as any rightful evil man, I shall play the villain in your childish story and banish you to lick your wounds." Vergil decided that if entertaining his brother in a little childish play could bring more giggles to his sister and a brighter smile for his father, he would oblige. "Go back to the castle to be caged while I have the princess in my grips. I will teach her a whole new world: starting from teaching her the temptations of chocolate and marshmallows, and she will have absolutely no space in her mind to think about you."

"Brother Vergil, if you are busy, you really don't have to take me outside. I'm okay. I like studying and learning too." Acela shyly tugged at Vergil's sleeve to get his attention.

"Bah, listen to her!" Dante exclaimed theatrically, spinning around to point an accusative finger on their helplessly amused father now. "What horrible brainwash have you done to my beloved princess, this villain who calls himself 'Dad'!"

"Me?" It was clear the Duke had been caught off-guard at his son's dragging him into the play as he pointed to himself in confusion. "I wasn't the one assigned her teachers. It was Vergil."

"It's you again, you villain!" Dante's pointing of finger was much more exaggerated this time.

"Don't blame Daddy or Brother Vergil! They did nothing wrong; I was the one who requested to be taught in so many areas! I wanted to learn quickly on how to become a Sparda too!" Acela spoke up quickly, looking upset and desperate to protect them from being accused now. At sight of such expression that had appeared on their sister, it was Vergil and the duke's turn to give accusations –this time much more serious and through their eyes only.

"Don't listen to the ridiculous words of Dante, Acela." Duke Sparda said with an assuring, warm smile. It had been ages since Vergil and Dante last saw that smile –a smile that once appeared often back when they were younger and clearly more gullible to words. "You should do whatever makes you happy and not push yourself. If you want to learn etiquette quickly, then do as you wish. Nobody should- and they will not -judge you for your decisions."

Because anyone who judges the decision of a Sparda will not be able to live long enough to air those views.

The unspoken words hung between the men of the Sparda family, but didn't speak them aloud because the young girl of 13 years old was still oblivious to this fact. The name 'Sparda' was all-powerful but at the same time, somewhat fearsome to the untrained ears of a child who until recently only lived worrying about her next meal.

"Besides, between the three of us in the family, we already have Dante who is good at nothing except for swordsmanship. We need someone to specialize in studies." Vergil added in the hopes of giving his sister a goal. If he was being honest, he would much rather Acela focus on studying rather than feeling the pressure of excelling at swordsmanship just because her brothers and father all excelled at it.

"Think about it; Acela Eva Sparda, Genius of the Century! I'll go around boasting that my sister's the smartest kid in the whole kingdom." Dante grinned, clearly forgetting his previous condemnation on how much his sister liked studying.

The soft giggle that returned at the declaration also restored the air of easy familial atmosphere.

"You should get moving soon. Prince Claude will be asking where his First Captain has gone if you delay any longer." The Duke reminded his son who seemed to have forgotten that he had been intending to leave.

"For some reason, he's been completely fine with his First Commander missing..." Dante's heavy sigh accompanied him as he rose from his seat. "Thanks for the meal. Dad, are you coming to the Ministers Meeting today?"

"Yes. Felix told me to be there to keep Vestia and his men in check." Duke Sparda answered easily, once more casually showing off his power. Duke Sparda was probably the only person outside of the royal family who was allowed to call King Felix by name without fearing for consequences.

"Do you have time to swing by the Guards Training Hall? The new recruits don't believe that I'm your son." Dante's reason for the request was ridiculous.

"Why do they not believe that you are my son?"

"Because of Verge!" Dante's complain exploded, the accusative finger pointing again. "He was showing off and pretended to be practicing by himself beside the Guards Training Hall and they were super impressed by him. I had to beg them to stay with the Royal Guards instead of submitting requests to transfer to the Elite Royal Army."

"I told you: my men were using the Army training facilities and there was no space for me. I just practiced some strokes by myself." Vergil defended himself like the many hundred times that he had when Dante had first come to him crying foul.

"Then why don't you show them your own capabilities?" Duke Sparda asked. "You were made the First Captain for a reason."

"That is because Prince Claude forbade him to show anything off except in real fights. Dante was showing off too much in the corridors and he destroyed many things in the palace." Vergil reported, obliged to have his father learn of the full story. Duke Sparda had given his sons free hand to do whatever they wanted ever since they graduated from the Imperial Academy as the best students and employed in the palace directly under the royal family. This also meant that Duke Sparda no longer kept a careful ear out for the incidents and troubles that his sons were capable of making within the palace walls.

"I had heard talks about how there was a particular Royal Guard who was banned from holding a sword within the palace walls, but I never imagined it would be my very own son." The duke shook his head with a sigh. "Well, I suppose there are worse things that could have happened if Claude still allowed Dante to wield a sword whenever he pleases. I will swing by your training hall if I have the time, but if I see you slacking off on your job, I will be leaving immediately, Dante. Consider yourself warned."

"Thanks Dad." The grin spread like butter upon Dante's face, and the young man skipped to the door happy with the promise. "I'll see you tomorrow, Acela! And I hope I'll never see you again, Verge!"

The happy farewell greeting ended as the First Captain of the Royal Guards closed the door behind him, the sound of him whistling happily following in his wake.

________________________________________________________________________________

"I can walk by myself, Brother Vergil. I have been training and walking around the garden every day. You don't have to carry me." Acela's words fell on deaf ears as Vergil continued his gentle yet firm grip around the young girl, keeping her in his arms as he walked through the crowd of the capital.

After insisting to the servants that the two of them were fine on their own, Vergil had picked up his sister once they stepped out of the carriage that had brought them out of the Dukedom and had been deaf to his little sister's protest that she could now walk on her own.

Vergil stopped by one of the stalls in the market, casting a casual perusing glance over the items on display. Since neither he nor Acela had gone out dressed with Sparda's family crest on their outerwear, the commoners around them could only assume that they were a pair of children from nobility.

With his free hand –the one not holding his sister up against him –he reached into his pocket and tossed a coin over to the stall owner wordlessly. He picked up a hat that sat close to him –the motif of a flower set in pink lace that decorated the baby blue hat –and fixed it over the surprised Acela's head before moving on.

The silent nature of the transaction repeated a few more times with various types of goods all over the market. With only one hand, Vergil tossed coins towards stall owners and picked whatever he liked, donning them on Acela or throwing them into her hands with clear looks of expectancy for her to start snacking despite the fact that they had come out right after breakfast.

"Brother Vergil, don't you want to have a little of this?" Acela exercised her bravery, extending a hand out to show the remainder of the skewer that he had thrown to her. "Are you not hungry?"

"You have it." The short answer came as he shook his head to emphasize his rejection. "You need to eat more to become healthier."

"I'm full..." Acela braced herself on instincts for some sort of scolding for not meeting expectations despite the fact that she had not received any form of lecture ever since she entered the Sparda House.

"Very well." Vergil answered, and Acela blinked in surprise to find her brother biting the meat off the skewer in her hand. "Then let us take a short break."

Acela finally found her feet as her brother set her down by the fountain, Vergil unloading the mess of food remains that were stuck in her hands. The food that Acela had just been worrying about finishing disappeared in an instant, and she could hardly resist the smile of relief as he finished the last of the candy that had been half-eaten.

"Don't be afraid to say what you want. If you're full, then you're full. No use trying to stuff it all down." Vergil explained as he popped the candy into his mouth. "Do you still need a break?"

"No, Brother Vergil. But you've been carrying me for a long time, you must need the break. Just stay here, I will go buy something for you!" Acela jumped at the chance to buy something for her brother instead of the other way around, and quickly took off running back towards the market crowd before he could protest otherwise. The small pouch of money that the servants had equipped her with prior to their departure from the house settled Acela's mind greatly as she made a beeline for the store selling juices.

It was the first time; Acela realized after a short while. It was the first time Acela was walking in the capital with money in her pocket. It was the first time Acela actually took a look at the stalls that were around her –actually took a good look of what was being sold because for the very first time, she could afford everything.

A sudden sense of worry chased her when she told the man at the drink stall that she wanted a cup of lemonade. She had bumped into him once before while she had still been penniless, and he had chased her away like how the many other stall owners had done so before. It had been no hard feelings – nobody liked beggar orphans like what Acela had been.

But the man at the drink stall did not recognize her. Neither did the man at the fruit stall, when she stopped to buy some strawberries (because she remembered that Dante loved them). None of the people in town seemed to recognize her as the young, dirty and penniless orphan that had once roamed the streets, scraping for leftovers or discarded food.

The unexplained discomfort settled within Acela irrationally and dampened her spirit slightly when she emerged from the market again, approaching her brother still waiting by the fountain. She struggled to pull her lips into a full smile again when they met eyes upon her emergence, but it must not have been successful because something in her brother's expression hardened as he stood up from his seat on the fountain edge.

Flustered, Acela desperately tried to erase the discomfort from her face-

Bam.

The force that hit her was so hard that Acela fell forwards in an instant, hitting the ground with a painful slide. The lemonade that had been in her hands spilt all over the floor, but thankfully somehow the strawberries were still relatively safe.

"I thought that you died in a dirty alley somewhere, but look who is back. Who did you steal from, huh? You know that all of these things don't fit you, you homeless peasant." A familiar voice spoke behind her, and Acela turned around quickly with fear in her eyes, confirming the identity of her attacker.

The boy's name was Cales, and he was the son of a wealthy merchant. Cales was known to pick on the poor homeless, and since his targets had always been the helpless, nobody had truly bothered to stop the boy whenever he rained his abuse for the fun of it. Acela had met Cales a few times before back when she had been alternating between selling flowers and begging for food. For some reason, the boy seemed to take particular liking at pushing her down, taking away whatever she had despite the fact that none of the things she took from him was valuable in his eyes.

"S-Stop... Don't take..." Acela protested weakly, putting her hands up in defense when Cales reached for her hat and the ribbon tied around it.

"Why should I stop? I'm not stealing anything if it was already stolen." Cales pushed her desperate hands aside, grabbing her hat and wrenching it off in victory. "You should know better than to dirty the hat with your head, you dirty thing."

"I didn't steal it!" Acela protested, ignoring the stinging of her bloodied and chafed hands and knees as she climbed to her feet, a surge of anger rushing through her. "Give it back! It's not stolen!"

"Liar. You're a thief and a liar." Cales accused, looking down at her now-dirtied dress, dripping with lemonade and covered in dirt. "Now, that dirty look suits you better. I don't know where you stole that dress from, but it doesn't fit you if it's clean."

"Picking on Acela." The announcement was made in the coldest voice that Acela had ever heard from the man so far, and she was suddenly made aware of the presence that had appeared beside them, standing over the both of them. "You must be tired of living."

"This is none of your business, go away." Cales ignored the older young man glaring down at him, still holding Acela's hat out of her reach with his superior height.

"It is far from 'none of my business'." The answer that came was icy, and Acela stopped jumping in her effort to reach her hat, peering worriedly at the frigid eyes that never wavered from the boy in front of her.

She covered her mouth with her hands when a strong arm –the same arm that had carried Acela easily –grabbed the boy by his throat and raised him dangling above ground.

Acela's hat fluttered to rest on the ground.

"What is your name?"

"What are you doing?" Cales protested, beginning to choke. "Let me go!"

"Your. Name." There had never been two words that sounded more threatening before.

"Cales! Cales Nelson! Now let me go! I'll have my father ruin you!"

"Ruin me?" There was a cold scoff. "If only I have the patience to allow you to live long enough to try."

"Please..." Cales was clearly running out of breath by now with his face turning purple and his struggles losing strength. "Let... me... go..."

Even though it had probably been very clear from the start that the person standing in front of Acela and holding Cales dangling above the ground was her elder brother for the past two weeks, Acela could not help but tremble in fear with the tears crowding the corner of her eyes at the scene in front of her. This man was not... he was not the Brother Vergil Acela knew.

"Vergil! What are you doing; let the boy down! You're actually going to kill somebody here!" The intruding voice was loud and Acela blinked with a heavy sense of relief when a hand closed over Vergil's arm, and the recognition that sparked in her brother's cold blue eyes made him loosen his grip over Cales's throat, the purple in boy's face receding while he coughed and hackled.

"You're not supposed to be out here." The statement was made in a casual tone, as if he had not been sounding murderous just seconds ago, and as if he was not still holding someone over his head.

"I sneaked out. But that's beside the point: why are you threatening to kill someone in broad daylight and in public sight?"

"It would have been an unfortunate accident." Vergil answered, still not letting go. "But a happy one on my end."

"I don't think that's what you're supposed to be saying. What is going on? What did that poor kid do to incur the wrath of the First Commander of the Elite Royal Army?"

"He harmed and insulted my sister and made her cry."

"That's all?" The young man of Vergil's age asked with a face still full of confusion, looking down at the tear-filled girl who still had her bloody hands pressed against her lips to prevent from making a sound of fear. "If you ask me, I think you are the one making her cry now."

At the reminder, Vergil turned to his sister and realized the truth of the situation. As if electrified, he jerked his hand back, dropping Cales to the floor. Vergil stepped back quickly, hiding his arm behind his back as if it had suddenly become something offensive to Acela's eyes.

Cales didn't waste any time picking himself up and tearing off.

"I-I'm sorry, Acela. I... I must have scared you..." The tone of gentle apology was miles away from the frigid iceberg-coldness that it had been moments ago.

"I... I'm okay." Acela stuttered, doing her best to wipe her tears with the back of her hands because her palms were bloody and dirty after having fallen to the floor. "I am okay, Brother Vergil. Thank you for... for chasing Cales away."

"You knew him?" Vergil lowered himself carefully to meet her eyes, the hardness gone completely as gentle hands withdrew a handkerchief and began to wipe his sister carefully free of tears, lemonade and dirt.

"He... he used to pick on us homeless orphans... For some reason he always liked to pick on me... and steal my things..." Acela hesitated. While everyone in the Sparda family knew that Acela had used to be a beggar/flower girl, they had not really talked about her past ever since she was adopted into the house. She had not been sure if it was because her past as a homeless orphan was a point of embarrassment for them that they refused to acknowledge, but she had learnt quickly not to talk about those days.

"Whoa, stop." Sudden words came from the stranger who had saved the day.

"What?" Vergil barked shortly, looking up at him with distant annoyance flitting across his face.

"We've been together since we were children. I know you; you're going to chase after that Cales boy." The young man said, stepping closer carefully, peering down at Acela. "You wouldn't want that to happen, right, Acela?"

"Don't talk to her. I haven't given you permission." Acela watched as his brother frowned, moving as if trying to block the stranger's view of her.

"This is new. It is usually me giving people permission instead of the other way around." The young man replied.

"We're not in the palace, and you are in disguise, Claude. Far as anyone knows, you are just another noble boy coming out and looking for trouble." Vergil was done wiping the silent Acela down and he checked once more that her scrapes were not serious before wrapping his arms gently around her again and lifting her off the ground as he had done earlier in the morning. "Goodbye, and don't look for trouble."

"You say it as if you are not in disguise yourself. Neither of you have your family's crest on your clothes." The young man –now named Claude- answered with a chuckle, watching as Vergil stepped away quickly with his cute little sister in his arms.

Young Acela looked past her brother's shoulder, black eyes meeting the amused green ones while they watched Acela and her brother's retreat. The smile on his face was handsome and well-set against a head full of bright blonde hair, and upon meeting of gazes, he raised a gentle hand and waved them goodbye.

"Acela Sparda, huh..." Claude mused to himself as soon as the First Commander had disappeared through the crowd, looking back down on the packet of strawberries that had been where the young girl had been standing. Bending down to pick it up, he lightly brushed the dust off its surface, glad that its contents were still in its perfect state.

Though Claude was an only child in his family, he could easily guess the intentions of the young girl who had just left with her eldest brother when it came to the pack of strawberries currently sitting between his hands.

Grinning to himself, he pried a hole in the packet and popped one between his teeth, chewing and savoring the sweetness as he turned back towards the palace.

He had come sneaking out today after hearing his First Captain complain about the First Commander going out on a date with their sister. To witness the anti-social eldest son of Sparda voluntarily take a step out of his house for non-business purposes, Claude had disguised himself and come out to get a whiff of a fun story to tell.

With the sweet strawberry in his mouth, he certainly had a story to tell Acela's beloved brother stuck in the palace today.