That stupid- a deep breath left his lips as he relaxed his features. To have left the Underworld but still be burdened with the weight of her. Mundus' daughter, someone who was blood pact'ed to him like a damn maggot that wormed the way into his body, a festering blister that inconvenienced him at every given chance. A leech that drank from his veins, despite having more volume. Mundus gave her to him, a pretty demoness that he would have, to take and to... it wasn't his greatest moment in accepting her. But, the scars on her backside and the way her wing had been ripped from her back in front of him, Mundus was... cruel and she was just a girl- woman, she was a woman. She just didn't know anything of the human world, not that Vergil had the best understanding.

So... coming back to meet his son, his twin and having to explain the woman who reeked of Underworld and sulfur was not easy. Getting her a room at Devil May Cry was harder. They'd come around, he told himself. Watching her body curl into the bedding like a rat- a rodent that curled noses. She needed a bath, she needed clothes and now that he had brought her here- she needed humanity. How was he to teach her, to... his heart, once believed to be as cold as ice, frozen, thumped harder when he thought to her warm skin, her eyes that shone like gold in his. Damn, this wasn't like the affair with Nero's mother, if he played with this fire... he'd get burnt- and so would she. Then again, moths always fly into the match.