Unlike Squalo, who loathes them with the entirety of his being, Prince Belphegor loves surprises.

He loves being the surprise, of course, loves keeping his opponents on their toes – letting them believe what he wants them to for his own, sadistic amusement… but he loves the thrill of being caught unaware even more.

It doesn't happen often. After all, Prince Belphegor is a genius and unpredictable elements like the ones he loves so much are few and far between. The Varia's members are one thing, but generally speaking, there aren't a lot of people who can match his intellect and keep up with his erratic, fast paced thinking. The only one who truly could, in all of his years, achieve such a feat is now six feet under. Bel put him there and he doesn't regret a thing.

Helena, of course, is a special case. Always has been, if Bel's being honest. Strangely perceptive for someone that young – intelligent in a way that isn't simply smart. Helena's not a genius like he is… but there's something about her that makes her different.

And as for the incident with Mihail? Well, he certainly hadn't expected her to try and contact him against his (semi-implied) orders, but in the end it's her amusing antics which prompt him to pick up the phone and agree to meet her.

You see… peasants are dull and unworthy creatures, but – as expected – royalty is different. Helena is a Princess like he is a Prince, and unlike Rasiel, who had gone and planted his nasty little roots where they had no place being – becoming an annoying thorn in his side, Helena amuses him. He likes her enough not to be too bothered by the fact she broke his rules, more intrigued by the sudden appearance of this Helena he hasn't experienced yet. He lets himself relish that fact because last time he was pleasantly surprised like this, Boss had still been around and Bel had been but a child.

Xanxus, proud and powerful and showing all the true bearings of a King had caught Belphegor's attention almost as soon as they had met. He had known in that moment that the boss of the Varia was a real king – perhaps not by birthright, but certainly in every other sense of the word.

Boss wasn't a king like Belphegor's father had been. He wasn't hiding behind the power and authority his title gave him only to be turned into prey the moment a real predator stepped into the room– no, Xanxus was a mighty lion, King of the unruly jungle.

And really, what better person for a Prince to bow to than a true King like that?

Boss had been unpredictable, and Bel had loved it. And now Helena's back and she's still proving to be unpredictable! The Prince really couldn't have asked for anything more amusing to fill his time with.

"You seem happy…" Mammon calmly observes, and Bel doesn't have to be able to see her eyes in order to know that they are on him. Everybody's gaze is turned in his direction and it's this fact that makes him grin like the Cheshire Cat.

After all, Helena is somewhat of a myth within the Varia… perhaps even more so than outside of it.

While there's no shortage of interest in Prince the Ripper's little sister inside of the Mafia, nobody's quite as inventive or amusing in their theories as the Varia's own members. They really go the extra mile, if you know what he means. At least half of their numbers are convinced the little Princess died along with the rest of their family – her body buried in the Royal Gardens or otherwise disposed of while nobody was looking. The rest of the Varia's conspiracy theorists are of the opinion that she did survive, though their thoughts and reasoning get more and more illogical the deeper he digs.

One of the theories he's heard involve Helena snapping, picking up a dagger and helping him murder their family… and while that line of thought is undoubtedly amusing, he sometimes thinks people forget that his sister had been three years old at the time – more likely to trip over her own feet than actually take aim and land a lethal hit on anybody.

Besides… he's pretty sure that even now, almost at the age of 10, Helena's never had blood stain her hands. Not hers nor anybody else's.

Still, the myth of Prince the Ripper's little sister – distasteful as that name is – has some advantages… other than being a source of entertainment on slow days for himself, it also keeps Helena effectively hidden. Two birds with one stone. Simple as that.

"Mammon? The Prince needs you to take over his mission this Friday."

"Hmm… fine." The Mist Guardian concedes with a nod, "But expect to be charged, I don't work for free."

Bel is happy to leave it at that, attention already returning to the TV in front of him, but Squalo is of a different opinion and has never been one to keep his mouth shut anyway.

"Okay. Hold on just a second." He says, a frown on his face. "You're supposed to run this shit by me, remember?"

The Varia's swordsman irately taps his fingers against the fireplace's mantle shelf. There's a pointed look of annoyance in his eyes, one that he often directs at his junior assassin, and - oh - Bel is enjoying this so much more than he thought he would.

"Since when do you care about who does what assignment? It doesn't matter as long as it gets done, right?" He shrugs, deliberately avoiding the point. "The Prince will have the paperwork ready sometime tomorrow, so you can stop the hissy fit."

Squalo growls.

"That's not the problem, Bel! You know that. If you go out there and meet that kid, I want a full report on it. I want to know what she looked like, I want to know what she said, I want to know what she was wearing, I want to know how many fucking times she blinked! The Bovino are thinking of recruiting her and I'm not taking any chances."

"That's right." Levi speaks up then, apparently struck by an idea. "What if they decide to use her as bait? What if she…" He makes a gesture that vaguely resembles a stabbing motion. "You know."

Bel turns around to face Levi, not appreciating the insinuation.

"Then she'd be an idiot – like you. Besides, do you think the Prince is incapable of taking on a 9-year-old, Levi?"

Before Levi can retort (or Bel can take out his knives and skewer the peasant), Squalo intervenes.

"VOOOI! Don't even think of it! Levi, if you have nothing useful to add to the conversation keep your mouth shut! The Bovino won't attack anybody – they're too scared of retaliation. And that's not the point anyway!"

"Yeah," Lussuria thoughtfully agrees, "That doesn't mean we shouldn't keep an eye on them anyhow. If… Princess Helena is anything like you, Bel… I'm sure we don't want to have to deal with that without any warning whatsoever. I'm sure you understand..."

"Right. See, that's what I'm talking about." Squalo nods, "Nobody that got you to spare them is a normal human being. If you go out to meet her, I want a report on my desk within the next 24 hours. And that's final."

~X~

Belphegor remembers Helena's maid more clearly than most. He doesn't remember much about her, admittedly, but he does remember her eyes – sharp and focused, and just the right amount of daring. Ottavia Bovino had been a talker, he recalls, and not a fighter.

("You can kill me, of course, but… then you'll never get away. That's not what you want now, is it?")

("I can get you out of here, Prince Belphegor. You need me.")

A talker, indeed. Those words, uttered by a woman he had never even considered before that day, have left an impression on him. She's another one that surprised him.

His sister's nanny, and his mother's personal maid before that.

("How?" He had asked her suspiciously and her lips had twisted upwards in response, her words becoming a little bit bolder.

"I know some people… tell me, your highness, you enjoy killing, don't you?")

That was the first time Prince Belphegor was ever told about the Varia; the first time he ever considered leaving behind everything he had ever known in favour of something new and exciting. A world which wasn't filled with things he hated. He'd seen his chance and grabbed it.

After all, he didn't have to stay in Accidia, he didn't have to sit down and wait until the guards found him and took him away to wherever they took child murderers; he could leave.

Prince Belphegor had liked what Ottavia had had to offer, so he had let her live.

She hadn't left immediately though, he remembers, Helena's maid had lingered – hesitant for a moment, before –

("Where is… your sister?")

And he could hear the pause in her words – see the dread in her dark brown eyes. She had been expecting a corpse, not a mostly unharmed child.

But, really, hadn't they all?

When he had turned away from Rasiel that day, only to find Helena standing there, her pale face twisted into an expression of fear and horror, he hadn't thought about sparing her. He hadn't thought of anything else other than the fact that he hated this place, and that killing Rasiel and those maids had been so much fun.

Surely, killing his little sister would be just as entertaining!

Rasiel had cried when Belphegor had killed him– he had cried for the first time in years and Bel had taunted him like he knew Rasiel would've done had their places been reversed. Princes don't cry, he had said, because everybody knew that. And that is why, when he was the one to make his brother cry like that, Belphegor only felt satisfaction at finally proving what he had always known: that Rasiel was the lesser of the two. That he was the real Prince.

Not a Prince – but the Prince.

But then Helena was the one crying, and it just didn't feel the same as it had with Rasiel. It wasn't satisfying. It was… kind of underwhelming, really – like a comedown. A wakeup call.

Her blue eyes were looking up at him, lips moving silently to form the word 'please' over and over again and… and… he just didn't feel like killing her anymore. He knew, in that moment, that digging that knife into her throat would offer him no satisfaction. He wasn't angry at her – he didn't hate her like he did the others.

Unbidden, a memory from long ago flits through his mind – his sister's presence next to his, leaning against him as he stubbornly wiped at his tears.

He didn't want to kill her, so he didn't.

And then he had left Accidia and he hadn't looked back or seriously thought about Helena until after the coup, when Iemitsu Sawada, that infuriating commoner, had had the unmitigated gall to shove that photo into his hands and threaten his little sister.

And he had retaliated with a threat of his own, hadn't he?

("What makes you think the Prince won't kill her himself, before you can get to her?")

Because no matter how he simply didn't care for killing her, how the thought of impaling her with one of his knives didn't make him feel anything – good or bad – if she had to go, it would at least be by his own hand.

Because royalty, his little sister, deserves no less.

~X~

The first thing Prince Belphegor notices about Helena, is that she isn't wearing a crown.

She stands there amidst the crowd – her eyes uncovered – and blends in seamlessly. There's a small braid in her hair, coming from behind her right ear and reaching her shoulder as the rest of her hair pools around it – a strange style, maybe, but Belphegor supposes that it suits fine her all the same. Dressed in a lilac summer dress and white sandals, she doesn't look very much like a Princess at the moment. Even so, the remnants of her upbringing are still clear.

The way she tilts her chin, her faux-relaxed stature as she tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear; clearly, Helena hasn't forgotten who she is. She's a Princess, and it shows in all the details a Prince like him knows not to miss. It doesn't matter that they haven't met in years – Bel recognises her at once.

Sitting at the edge of the tall, round fountain, Helena hasn't noticed him yet. There's a bag in her hands which she clutches just a tad too closely to herself for there to be nothing of interest inside. A weapon of some kind, maybe? He imagines it would be something small – a knife (but then again that might not be her style), or a firearm perhaps. The Bovino are known for their production of weapons, so he wouldn't be all that surprised if his sister had been able to acquire one.

Obviously, she isn't putting any blind faith in him. He likes that – it means that his sister knows caution, that she isn't some trusting idiot without any self-preservation skills to speak of. It's not like he left his knives at home either; he's Prince the Ripper, and in the Mafia, only soon-to-be dead guys wander the streets unarmed.

Making his way through the crowd, Bel keeps his eyes on Helena. She doesn't notice him until he's halfway across the square and when she does, he has her undivided attention. Even without wearing his Varia uniform, recognising him isn't difficult – his hair, his crown – that's all anybody looking for him needs to see in order to know.

Helena doesn't get up and they don't actually exchange a word until he's seated next to her, his back turned to the grand castle of Piazza Castello. It's a nice, sunny day and a lot of people are out. The irony isn't lost on Bel – how they meet in front of a castle – foreign royalty that disappeared years ago.

Tilting his head a little, Bel snickers.

"Seven years later and you're still the shortest person I know."

A lie, obviously, because the shortest person he knows would be Mammon, who's literally the size of a two-year-old… but even so, it's all worth it to see the blatantly indignant look Helena gives him. She looks rather like an annoyed little bird with ruffled feathers. The mental image makes him smirk.

"Wow, thanks." Amusingly enough, her reply is dry – almost deadpanned as she turns her head to face him. Then, a familiar little grin spreads onto her lips. "Years of etiquette training went down the drain, I see. Wasted, just like that."

"Ushishi~ speak for yourself, little sister! Aren't you supposed to curtsy when in the presence of a Prince?"

"Am I? I never knew you cared about formalities like that."

He doesn't, truthfully. It's time-consuming, inconvenient, and – frankly – quite pointless as well. They're not even in Accidia, so why expend the extra effort?

Both of them are silent for a moment but Bel's not overly fond of sitting around idly, so it isn't long before he's speaking up again in order to bring up the matter at hand: his sister's phone call. Because that is why they're here in the first place, isn't it?

"So… you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"I did, yes." She admits. "Well… truth be told, I'm not sure if you can help me – but I figured… what the hell. It's worth a try, right?"

Bel makes a contemplative sound, leaning back and looking up at the sky. When he speaks up again he's still acutely aware of his surroundings – aware of Helena's eyes on him.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with those rumours going around about you joining the Bovino Famiglia, would it? Do you want the Prince to kill someone for you? I'll give you a discount, since you're my sister."

"What? No!" She hisses, "It's nothing that drastic."

Snickering, Belphegor admits that he was only half joking: as a member of the Vongola Famiglia he isn't actually allowed to go around inciting Family wars on a whim. Still, he supposes there are ways around that - his line of work is assassination, he knows how to kill a man without drawing attention to himself. He wouldn't be Varia Quality otherwise.

The story his sister tells him within the next fifteen minutes is an interesting one... so the Bovino have finally made the first move, and in a show of phenomenally bad luck and planning, the peasants screwed it up so badly his sister wants to be nowhere near them. Bel has never met Gaetano Bovino before, but his name is one he carefully files away for future reference.

"He's older than you, you know. What a creep." Helena huffs, absentmindedly tapping her fingers against the edge of the fountain. "Yeah, see? He was so convinced too! Like… like I was actually going to accept that deal after he told me what he did… you're going to be one crazy bitch when you grow up, but I bet it'll give marriage a thrill…! The nerve! I should have just punched him in the face when I had the chance."

Probably, Bel thinks. Or she could have gone for the more permanent solution and simply killed him then and there - it would certainly have been deserved.

"Well, either way, like I already said – I don't want anything to do with Gaetano or his Famiglia…" She crosses her arms at this, a frown marring her features. "Which is the problematic thing, because – in a way – I'm already neck deep in it. You know how I live with Ottavia, right? She used to work at the castle – Mother's personal maid?" Bel nods and, finally, he thinks he knows where this whole thing might be heading, "Yeah, well, she's one of them. She wouldn't make me join the Family, and I don't think the rest of her family would either, but... my situation's a disadvantage for everyone involved."

It's difficult to refute that; surrounded as she is by members of the Bovino Family, twisting her arm and forcing her to join would be easy. Laughably so.

"You need a place to stay." Bel guesses and though she hadn't mentioned it yet, had been skirting around the subject ever since she started talking, he knows he's not wrong about his assumption.

"Yeah, I do." Helena admits. "I've got a plan – well, more of an idea, really. I'm just wondering if it's possible."

Interesting.

She doesn't ask him if he's willing to help her out, doesn't ask him if he will. Most likely that's because she can't afford to. But… she's always been his favourite family member, hasn't she? He supposes that that has its benefits. Besides… he's rather curious to find out what she's thinking.

"Hmm, is that so?" Prince Belphegor grins, "Well, what did you have in mind?"

A/N: Kind of a chaotic chapter, but it's finally here. Yes, Bel's sort of twisted but that's old news anyway. I was laughing by myself like an idiot while writing Squalo's "if you meet her I want a report on my desk" speech, because Bel's a little shit and you know he at least considered handing in a blank report on which he only wrote down how many times Helena had blinked during their meeting.

On another note, we finally got a look at Bel and Helena's first meeting! What did you think of it? Let me know by leaving a review!