𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓'𝖘 𝕷𝖎𝖔𝖓: 𝕮𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖙

Weston

"Damn!" Y/N cursed as her heart pounded in her ears like a drum. Her books felt like they weighted a metric ton in her arms as her legs carried her as fast as they could. She had a single biscuit in her mouth for breakfast, her hands full of either textbooks or her top hat. The binder that was wrapped tightly around her chest felt like it was cracking her rib cage, and the cushions sewn into her corset were rubbing against her sides hard enough to start a fire.

"We're going to be late," Ciel called to her as he ran behind her, only lagging by a leg. "P-Please wait!" He shouted at the two boys closing the black iron gates before them. The two nobles gave it their all as they ran for the gates, sliding in just in time. Before they even had time to skid to a stop, the gates shut with a 'clang' behind them and the two boys stationed at it glared at the two. Ciel and Y/N almost collapsed on themselves, trying not to drop their hats and books as they bent over to catch their breath. Ciel's asthma and Y/N's new uniform made it feel impossible for oxygen to properly flood their lungs. "We just made it..." Ciel wheezed as Y/N lightly smacked his back with a airy laugh.

"There'll get us next time if we aren't careful," she gasped as they both straightened up. Y/N pressed her knuckles down the front of her jacket as she and Ciel took in the sight before them. Its glass windows sparkled and glowed in the sunlight like perfectly still water in a gorgeous river. The stone columns reached for the sky and ended in spiked towers that pierced the clouds with their gothic spirals. A grand clock sat perfectly on the middle of the face of the main building and a statue stood tall and proud before the sparkling white steps.

Weston College. A school established on the bank of the river Thames. A prestigious public school and one of the best in all of England. Starting with the colossal labyrinthine school building, its vast grounds also include a solemn gothic chapel, and four storied dormitories, or Houses. Upholding tradition and bound by the strictest discipline, the all-male boarding school lifestyle and sophisticated education by way of an individual curriculum yields true English gentlemen. Sparing no thought for the school's prohibitively expensive tuition, all aristocrats desire to have their sons matriculate to this school in order to obtain its vaunted status for themselves.

At least, that was what Y/N had been told in her letter from the Queen detailing her new assignment. Even though the campus was breathtaking, she had to admit, it didn't seem to be all that grand. But it didn't matter what Y/N personally thought. The fact of the matter was that Weston College was one of the best, most uptight, prestigious, traditional all-boys boarding schools in all of England. And Y/N was a woman off of the streets who just happened to be good with her words and more slick than a weasel drowned in oil. With the proper disguise, she'd fit right in. All she had to do was watch Ciel with hawk eyes until she mastered his behavioral patterns and could replicate them perfectly by heart. She'd be the best boy on campus in no time.

That was, if she didn't slip up. Y/N felt a small pang of guilt in her heart as she watched Ciel adjust his hat. She would have to copy his behaviors, all his behaviors. That included things he did 'wrong'. Credit to Ciel, he would have no idea he was messing up until it was too late, but Y/N also technically had no reason to know Ciel was in the wrong either. So when the Earl went to take a step forward, she couldn't stop him. The second his polished shoe touched the green grass of the courtyard, a gasp tore through the students walking around them. Since she was supposed to follow Ciel's lead, she had not stepped in the grass, saving her from most of the glares and whispers from the other students. Ciel looked around at the other boys, then back at Y/N. He had no idea what he could've done wrong, and Y/N had to pretend like she was clueless as well.

"Look!" One boy hissed to his friend. "He just set foot on the lawn."

"He's not even one of the P4. What's he thinking?" His friend whispered back.