The king shot out of his chair. “Did you say Ezra Celsbor?” Camila handed her tablet to the king. His eyes flitted rapidly across the screen before he sat in his chair slowly. “It really is him. Forgive me for the theatrics. I haven’t seen my dear friend in over a millenium.”

“Wait. Wait. Who’s Ezra Celsbor?” Prince William asked, peeking over his father’s shoulder.

“You don’t know him by that name. He’s the one I call Rookie. He joined the Hunters when he was seventy-four.”

The Queen furrowed her eyebrows. “Rookie? I thought he was dead.”

“He disappeared after a mission. We searched for him for decades but to no avail. So we assumed but to think…” The king’s hands clenched around the tablet. “I have failed the Hunters.”

“There was no way for you to know if he didn’t want to be found,” the queen said.

Camila glanced at the queen and saw that she was alread staring at her with a raised eyebrow. “Her Majesty is right. He has been acting as a Beta in a small, rural, somewhat nomadic pack in Russia. There is hardly an information about the pack in the kingdom database.”

“Is that normal?” Prince William asked with a frown.

“No, it is not. I’m working on having more information sent to me.”

“Oh, cut the crap,” Prince Alexander snapped. “She’s only been knowledge keeper for six years.”

“Right, you weren't able to complete the ritual. If only you had become knowledge keeper when you were of age,” the queen said sadly.

“What ritual?” The prince asked.

“There is a ritual done during the inauguration of a new knowledge keeper in which the knowledge from the previous keepers are transferred to the new one to ensure preservation of knowledge that isn't documented. For the ritual to be carried out, the minimum requirement is the knowledge keeper being a hundred years or older.

“On the night my master was murdered, she had hastily passed her mantle to me without due process, leaving me with a position and no other help.”

“That means you had to read from scratch,” Prince William said.

“Exactly.”

“How horrible. I can't imagine–”

“Black magic?” the king suddenly exclaimed, interrupting William and steering them back to their initial conversation.

Prince Alexander made a hum of agreement. “Sure seemed like it. There was a magic circle and everything. It seemed to muddle his mind or something.”

Camila nodded once. “A memory exchange spell. One that switches the knowledge and personality of two living creatures, wild beasts included. While it is not explicitly forbidden even among the witches, it had such adverse effects on the caster that most people steer clear of it.”

“Why use such a spell? What on earth are they after?” The queen muttered. “Oh…I see. The Interspecies Hunters. No one knows Sueret more than they.”

“We’re the only two alive,” the king said with a pained expression. “It was either he or I but…I am the king.” He let out a sigh. “Where is Rookie?”

“At Wisdom House,” Camila replied.

The king smiled. “The wind spirits would be delighted.” He stood, dusting imaginary lint off of his body. “I wish to see him.”

“Your Majesty,” Freda called out from behind the door of the throne room. “May I come in?”

“Of course. You knowledge keepers basically live here at this point,” the king muttered.

Freda stepped in with a somber expression. With a frown, the king opened his mouth to speak when his eyes glazed over. Almost immediately, he shut his mouth. Camila glanced at the prince and saw that he was staring at his parents and brother with glazed eyes too. If he was telling them what she thought he was…

Camila's lips tugged upwards slowly. Her chest warmed. “Thank you. I'm sure Freda would appreciate it as well,” she whispered under her breath. The prince squeezed her hand in response.

“I, Elfreda Hoffman, the assistant knowledge keeper of the werewolf kingdom, have come to present my report to the ruling monarch of the shifter kingdom on the results of the espionage to the former Bastille pack, now the Cahill pack–”

“Hold on, before we do this, can we interrogate a prisoner?” the queen asked casually.

“Ah…Y-Yes, of course, Your Majesty.”

The queen's hand stretched in Camila's direction. Camila placed her second tablet in her hand which already was on Freda's mate's profile page. “Freda, Camila, can you go get me the prisoner Vermont Dhiemne?”

Freda froze, her hands tightening around her tablet. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Without waiting for Camila, Freda turned out of the throne room and scurried away. Camila caught up to her and walked silently on the way to the prison. All too soon, the massive iron gates of the prison came into view. Freda didn't even stop to acknowledge the guards and walked right past them, throwing open the gate. At the second and third gates before the main prison, the guards let them through with just one glance at their uniform without asking any questions.

At the door of the main prison, the main guard glared down at them, trying to intimidate them. “What are the knowledge brats doing here?”

Freda reeled back and punched him right in the nose so hard that a few of her fingers popped out of place. “Out of my way, prick. I am so not in the mood.”

He stumbled backwards clutching his bleeding nose. “You bi–”

“She said to get out of her way,” Camila said. The guard glanced at her and involuntarily shivered before moving to the side. “The commander would be sure to hear of this insolence, Mr. Ruford.”

Freda stomped past him into the building. The prison guards at the entrance who had undoubtedly heard of the commotion at the entrance pointedly avoided making eye contact with the two women. Freda slammed her hand on the desk of the nearest one. He jumped a feet in the air. “Where are the prisons of the newest inmates.”

“T-The F cells,” he said shakily.

When Freda and Camila got to the F cells, it was nothing short of chaos. While there were about two or three prisoners in different cells, they all kept cursing and making speculations of their captors.

Freda ignored the noise and walked past the cells, searching for her mate. He sat alone in a cell at the end of the line, his head hung low. Seeing him, Freda's breath hitched. “Vermont,” she whispered.

He flinched and looked up. His eyes widened and he scrambled to the cells with a hopeful look in his eyes. “H-Hi.”

“You better not look at me like that just yet and even more, you better be innocent,” Freda said and stepped back for Camila to open the cells. Camila scanned her hands against the seals beside. The door creaked open. “Come on.”

“Ha,” one of the prisoners said. “You're already receiving special treatment, Vermont? How did you impress the fine ladies this time?”

“Maybe he promised them a little something after this. Powerful women like submissive men,” another one added and the two of them bellowed in laughter. The other prisoners seemed to recognize the tension in the atmosphere and stayed silent.

Camila walked to their cell purposefully and opened it. “Vincent Dhiemne,” Camila said. The smile on his face drooped a little. “You seem not to understand the severity of the situation you are in.”

His grin reappeared on his face. “You need to get laid, don't you? I can assure you that I'm a better–”

An imprint of Camila's palm appeared on his face. His jaw dislocated and a few of his teeth fell out of his mouth. The queen in Camila wasn't about to take an affront to her authority so lightly. She gripped him by the hair with her claws and pulled her close to him.

“If I rip you apart limb from limb and toss you in Lake Noschi, I can assure you that no one would bat an eyelid. If you cross me, I will make your death agonizing.”

“To think a woman wouldn't know her place because she was given a little power,” Vincent muttered under his breath.

Freda's eyes lit up with rage. “Oi, listen, you little–”

“Vermont, say your goodbyes to your brother,” a voice said from the doorway. “This is the last time you'll be seeing him.”

“Prince Alexander, I apologize for the delay.”

He shrugged. “Oh, it's alright. Decebel, take him to Happiness Hall. Camila and I will be with you shortly. Vermont, let's go.”

Camila stepped out of the cell and let Decebel pick up Vincent to drag him deeper into the prison. “Happiness Hall?” Vermont muttered, deep in thought when they crossed into the palace compound.

“Only the worst torture chamber there is in the continent,” the prince responded. “Reserved for national criminals.”

“Are we national criminals?” Vermont asked in a small voice that made him sound like a child. In paranormal age, he could as well be one.

“No. Your brother committed a national crime. That aside, come on. My parents are getting antsy to meet the mate of another kingdom official.”

“Kingdom official,” Vincent said and glanced at Freda. Meeting her gaze, he flushed red and turned away immediately.

“Gah. They're so cute,” the queen gushed. Vermont looked at her and suddenly, realizing where he was, looked around the throne room with wide, fearful eyes. “At ease, child. You shall not be killed.”

“Your Majesties,” Vermont greeted with a clumsy bow. The prince sighed and strutted to stand beside his father's throne.

“What is your name?” the king asked.

“V-Vermont Dhiemne.”

“What pack are you a member of?”

“The B-Bastille pack. I-I was formerly in the Gregory pack.”

“Why is your job in the Bastille pack?”

He closed his eyes as he spoke, dreading their response. “I am a guard…f-for the underground b-brothel run by Alpha Bastille.”

“And do you consider this an honorable job?”

“No, Your Majesty. I am deserving of punishment.” Freda's hand wrapped nervously around Camila's.

“Did you ever go into the brothel?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “Well”—he glanced at Freda— “yes…but only to feed the girls and give them new clothes.”

“Will the girls be able to testify?”

Vermont nodded. “I think so. They know me by name.”

“Were you under compulsion to do such a job?”

“This was the only job available to me in the pack as it was assigned by my Alpha. But this is not an excuse since I was under no compulsion. I was fully conscious.”

All eyes turned to the queen expecting her verdict. “A year of community service. Six months of this would be dedicated to intense labor at the prison cells. For the next two years, you are not to leave the royal pack without the company of a high-rank kingdom official. If you had tried to escape with those girls, all seven of you would have been killed. This is why you are not being imprisoned.”

Freda fell into Camila's arms for the second time in the last hour. Vermont blinked the tears away from his eyes and bowed low. “Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty.”

“I also trust you will cooperate with the investigation.”

“Of course, my queen.”

“Excellent. Now…” the queen leaned forward on her throne with a cheeky smile. “...when is the mating ceremony.”

Freda’s and Vermont's cheeks flamed in unison. “Um…Your Majesties. The report!”

She laughed melodically. “Of course. After that, you will get me Bastille.”