John sent Jillian, Lynn's assistant, with Waverly to unlock the gate. He would have sent Dean, but he'd caught the young man staring at Waverly and decided against it. Dean was simply too eager to impress and who knew what he would say to attract Waverly's attention.

"Kyung-Jin!" he called out as he entered the manor. His housekeeper appeared almost immediately and he pulled her into an alcove, away from the workers' human ears. "I need you to have a contract of temporary employment drawn up for Ms ..." John paused. Well, blast it, he hadn't asked the woman's surname. "Waverly. She will be working on restoring the garden."

Kyung-Jin cocked her head, eyebrows raised. "I thought you wanted it demolished, sir? What made you change your mind?"

Why, indeed? John glanced over his shoulder. "I ..." It was strange. He'd never given the garden a second thought until the green witch spoke of it like it was a living, breathing organism. At that moment, he was transported back to a time when his grandmother, Queen Alexandra, presented him with his own little garden at Sandringham House, not far from his residence at Wood Farm. He had so much fun playing there and working the land with the local children ...

"Her enthusiasm for the project convinced me to keep it," he told Kyung-Jin.

Kyung-Jin studied him curiously. "Shall I also run a standard background check on Ms ... Waverly?"

"What? Of course. And the address of her grandparents' house is Fourteen Harper Lane, here in the village."

The housekeeper pulled a notepad from a pocket in her skirt and a pen from her ponytail. She jotted down a few notes. "Standard laborer pay with extra added for her green witch status?"

"Yes." John turned slightly as he heard familiar footsteps behind them. "And instruct the rest of the staff to address me by my new alias when around her as well. Especially Dean."

Kyung-Jin made another note. "Understood, sir." She tucked the pen and pad away. "Anything else?"

"No."

"Very well." Kyung-Jin curtseyed and turned to exit the alcove. "Sir De Villepin," she greeted the slim, athletic French vampire.

"Ms Mi," Axel replied in his light French accent, touching two fingers to the top of his forehead in lieu of tipping a cap.

Kyung-Jin nodded and closed the door behind her as she left.

"Well," Axel began, taking a slow walk around the small room, hands clasped behind his back. "You've certainly got yourself a project on your hands, my friend." He reached up and swiped some cobwebs from the ceiling, twirling the dusty silk between his fingers before wiping them on the equally-dusty window sill.

"Yes," John agreed, leaning up against the wall and crossing his arms. "There's a lot of work to be done."

Axel nodded absently and peered out the dirty window. The older French chevalier had an aquiline nose and brown hair of medium-length tied back in a short queue. "I know you were sad to leave Valmar," Axel began conversationally.

John sighed. "I did not know Brighton would grow to such proportions. I do not think that will be a problem here."

The chevalier chuckled. "Ah, my friend, you are still so young. I recall thinking the same of my village after I Ascended. It was swallowed up by Lyon in 1841." Axel shrugged. "But I understand your desire for permanency. After so many centuries at my villa, I doubt I could move."

"Mm," John murmured, scratching his chin. Axel owned a beautiful, secluded villa in the south of France. John had spent several years there while a cadre of witches worked to heal him.

"Well," Axel said, "it is a lovely location. And a perfect place for your studies; right on the water."

All candidates for the Test, the series of trials conducted by twelve ancient vampire masters, had to have a passion, a compelling enough reason to be granted immortality. Most revolved around academic pursuits, such as theology, psychology, sociology, or anthropology. These Knowing would collect information and pass it along to the Masters, who would in turn use it in their own studies. All to better the world—or so they were told.

"Yes, my yacht should arrive in a few days," John told the chevalier.

Following in the family tradition, John had a passion for all things nautical—but one thing he discovered in the years leading up to his Ascension was that he was very good at seafaring. Forget GPS and all things modern, John felt most comfortable charting courses the old-fashioned way. He considered it a challenge.

Fortunately for him, the Masters agreed that his oceanic studies were worthwhile.

"The new one? Well, it's too bad I will be gone by then."

John chuckled. "We'll go out the next time you're in the area."

"I'll hold you to it." Axel breathed on the dirty window and used the cuff of one sleeve to clean a spot. "Speaking of pretty women ..." He squinted through the glass pane.

John's brow furrowed, perplexed. "We weren't."

"We weren't?" Axel pivoted, grinning. "Ah, well, I'm over four hundred years old, my friend. I'm bound to slip up here and there."

"What are you on about?"

"That pretty young lady from the bar. I watched her march in here as bold as you please."

Ah. John chuckled. "Are you looking to seduce her, then?" For as long as he'd known the French vampire, Axel had a revolving door of paramours—human, servant, and vampire alike.

"Me? No. She's comely enough, but I prefer my partners to be a little more demure—and male, at the moment. That one is more to your liking. The men in your family always had a penchant for strong-willed women." Axel arched an eyebrow. "Your mother, your two older brothers' wives ..."

John snorted. There were other words to describe Wallis Simpson—the first of which was not strong-willed.

Axel waved a hand, dismissing the conversation. "Very well. I won't bring it up again. Why don't we continue our tour?"

Knowing were notoriously picky about their life partners. One had to be when you considered that baring an attack by Fallen or humans decided to nuke the planet, they'd be around for, well, forever. John had experienced that pickiness firsthand, fresh off his Ascension. The vampiric women he'd attempted to court were centuries older than he, despite an outward appearance of mid-twenties to ethereal forties. They found him quaint, charming, and—much to his chagrin and embarrassment—boyish.

Not even his status as a Prince of the United Kingdom swayed them. Unless he could debate them in the finer points of theology or current events, they simply didn't care to keep him around longer than a single night.

Servants were easier to impress, but that was a line people of John's background simply did not cross. He also had so few employees, it wasn't worth the risk.

"Johnnie?" Axel prompted, cocking his head. A small smile creased the older vampire's lips.

John blinked and shook his head. "It's not what you're thinking," he warned, turning away from the window.

Axel laughed. "No, of course not."

Muttering swears under his breath, John waved to the older vampire to begin the tour. Knowing Axel, the French chevalier wouldn't let that one go until he'd wrung it dry. Best that he was leaving soon.