My Femboy System

The stones beneath my boots echoed like hollow promises as I stepped into the South Wing of Greywatch Academy. The corridors were carved from pale-grey marble veined with gold, polished until the past could almost be seen reflected in them. Stained-glass windows cast fractured patterns of saints and sinners across the floors, bathing everything in holy light. Hilarious, considering what half the faculty had buried beneath their robes and reputations.

I took a breath, straightened my coat, and reminded myself not to strangle the next aristocrat who called me "common-born." These upperclassmen had a knack for sniffing out lineage like it was some divine perfume, and unfortunately for me, I smelled more like soot and street magic than royal blood.

But what they didn’t know was that I carried something rarer than nobility: restraint. And a very magical feathered pen, tucked inside my coat like a loaded dagger.

"Hey, rat."

Ah. Speak of the devil.

Three boys stood in the corridor ahead, all wearing that pretentious House of Aegis blue. The one in front, tall and draped in velvet like a discount cardinal, gave me a condescending once-over. His name was Pharren—short for Pharrenwell Vaunte of House Vaunte, as he’d announced on our first day like a drunk introducing himself to a tavern wall.

I plastered on a lazy smile. "Pharren. Still confusing me with someone who gives a damn, I see."

He sneered, motioning to the two henchmen beside him—blonde twins with muscles for brains. "This corridor is reserved for High Sigil students. You’re in the wrong place, gutter rat."

Oh? He was going for that as well? How clique.

Internally, I sighed. I hadn’t come here to start anything. This was supposed to be reconnaissance. Blend in. Gather information. Maybe flirt with a professor if I was feeling ambitious.

But now Pharren had ruined my mood. And when my mood’s ruined, well... things tend to get feathery.