I have moved from NCT to trying other fandoms to mystery. lmao. Be nice to me, thank you. Comment and upvote if you haven't!

“Free bleed!” I yelled the moment I exited the building. “Free bleed! No added taxes on pads for women!”

My name is Primrose Marcier. Prim for ‘prim and proper’, rose for the most beautiful flower out there. What my parents didn’t account for when they consummated and procreated a child like me was that roses had thorns and I was one hell of a thorny female.

They most probably did not expect their eldest female to be walking around in trousers stained with colored red corn starch to protest the new law that pads would be considered cosmetic items and there would be an additional tax for them.

They also most probably did not expect their eldest female to be walking around braless with her s poking out against the material of her shirt to once again, protest against the inequality between male and female.

That eldest female is me, Primrose Marcier. My long brown hair was braided down the middle of my back and I reached into my coat to bring out a chopstick, winding my braid in a circular motion before stabbing into the strands with the food utensil to keep it up.

“It’s the eldest Marcier,” someone said disapprovingly from the side and I shot her a look. “Look at her. What a wild woman!”

I rolled my eyes. Welcome to the eighteen-hundreds: where women can’t vote, they can’t travel on their own and they can’t even work high-profile jobs. Our little town is working on it and there has been positive change but my little sister can attest to the fact that there is still discrimination.

“Ma’am,” a voice said and I looked up to see an officer looking down at me, his eyes trying to look away from my chest. He cleared his throat. “There has been a few complain—”

“About what, officer?” I asked, tilting my head at him, an eyebrow in the air. “About my free s?”

“Lady Marcier, they say that you are being a public disturbance. It’s a school zone,” he said, his pupils rolling to the side. I looked down at my chest.

“And what are the younglings going to say?” I asked. Another day, another goal. Should I be able to fight against the status quo, it would be a goal worth fighting for. The citizens of Locksworth don’t think the same way. Before he could answer my question, I decided he wasn’t worth my time to negotiate with and sprinted towards the parking spot for my bicycle.

Hearing a yell behind me, I mounted the bicycle and sped away, my feet turning the wheels with speed. I had a long day ahead of me! I had so many classes to attend and a part-time job at the university library, sorting out books.

Upon reaching Saint Helena University, I hopped off the bicycle and sped across the fields to see that my favorite class had started. I jumped into the bushes, peeking into the male-dominated class. Education for females wasn’t legal until five years ago and so I was here, at the age of twenty-seven, sneaking into class because I had a passion.

Journalism.

I was too old for university but definitely young enough to still be learning. I peeked over the ledge before I hoisted myself up, trying to keep my grunts to the minimum when I fell onto the ground and rolled. That was when I heard someone whisper and I looked up, adjusting my loose braid.

“Hey, Dodger lady.” The voice was soft and as I looked towards the source; it was from one of the students. Now that, I thought, that is a very good-looking man. I found myself crawling on the ground on the last row as the professor started the class. “You’re late today.”

“Thank you for noticing,” I whispered, going on my knees and peering over the tables to see that Advance Journalism has started. The man who called me had light blonde hair and golden specks in his eyes. He had a walking stick and I narrowed my eyes onto his face, the male blinking twice at the attention he was getting from me.

“You’re new,” I said, frowning at him.

“I’m not,” he replied, lowering his voice. “I just usually sit on the other side.” He pointed over to where he usually sat and I waved a hand to show him I wasn’t interested. “You’re a Marcier.”

“And I don’t know who you are,” I answered. His lips curled up in amusement, the male offering me his hand so I could shake it. I grabbed it and shook it firmly, squeezing his fingers to assert dominance when he introduced himself.

“Christopher,” he told me. “Just Christopher.”

“No last name?”

“Sadly,” he murmured when he suddenly grabbed my head and pressed it down. I swatted his hand away, Christopher giving me an apologetic glance. “The professor looked over. You shouldn’t be here. You’re not a student, are you?”

“Not at the very slightest. But I believe education should be free,” I told him. Christopher’s thick but shaped eyebrows threw me off. How could a man look so pretty? I narrowed my eyes at him, leaning forward. “I think that women can be just like men.”

He frowned at my statement. It was a big statement to make, with all the rules of inequality between both genders. He didn’t say anything, Christopher clearing his throat as the class progressed. Journalism and Ethics was the topic that the professor touched upon when Christopher nudged me.

“You work in the library, don’t you?” he asked and I nodded, a tongue sticking out the side of my lips as I scribbled into the little notebook I brought. “I do, too. That’s how I recognized you.”

“Good to know,” I whispered when a voice rang out and my eyes widened.

“Lady Marcier,” the professor said and I squeaked, dropping onto the ground. Christopher paled and I could hear footsteps approaching before a shadow fell upon me. “I see you have found your way into my class.”

I cleared my throat, slowly lifting my head to see the professor look down on me. He had a kind smile despite the way he said my name when he looked over at Christopher, a hand going to pat his arm.

“May I ask why you did not offer her a seat?”

Christopher cleared his throat, shifting ever so awkwardly towards me before he pulled out a seat. The professor gave a grunt and I plopped down onto the chair, Christopher letting out a relieved sigh. Eyes were on both of us and I saw Christopher lean back stretching his legs out in front of him.

I could make out what he was thinking, Christopher’s face flushing red when I saw his eyes fall on my chest then onto my stained trousers, the male turning back to the front of the class. I smirked, paying him no mind until the bell rang and I stood up, grabbing my little book to exit the class when I heard my name.

“Lady Marcier,” Christopher said and I turned back to see that he was following me. I walked backwards. “I believe we’re off to the same place.”

“The library, Christopher?” I asked, Christopher nodding. Now that he was standing in front of me, I could make out the expensive coat and his walking stick. “Why do you have a walking stick?”

“To help me walk,” he answered, his eyes twinkling.

“Is something wrong with your leg?” I asked, noticing that he walked with a limp. “Did you sprain it, perhaps?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.” Christopher nodded. “You shouldn’t walk backwards, Lady Marcier. An accident may happen.”

He said it with such concern but I let out a laugh, twirling once to show him that I didn’t care. I turned back to see that Christopher had a small smile on his lips, the male bringing himself closer.

“All accidents are meant to be, Christopher.” I winked at him, finally hopping forward to the library that was quite close by. The smell of old paper and the countless books were heaven to me. I was to be paid today, I reminded myself. Going off to the counter of the library, I opened my palm just to be greeted with a scowl from Mr. Tobbins.

“Primrose Marcier,” he murmured. “Your renumeration.”

It was always going to be this way, me counting the coins and telling him that he did not pay me enough.

“For a pound a man gets paid, a woman gets paid only zero-point-seventy-seven,” I said hotly and he let out a sigh.

“No can do, Lady Marcier.” He walked away, leaving me with the small bag of coins and I glowered at him. I began to follow him, Mr. Tobbins turning just to notice my free chest and I smiled. It seemed to garner attention. I should definitely go around with free s more. He grunted, turning away. “It’s not up to my power, Lady Marcier. If you keep following me like this, I can assure you that the library won’t be needing your services.”

I scoffed, deciding that it wasn’t a good day get sacked by a grumpy old man. Going on with the stack of books I had to sort, my lips stretched up with a satisfied smile at the look of many books piled up in front of me. I reached for one to flip it over when a shadow fell over me, Christopher appearing with his coat off.

“Books to sort, my lady,” he said and I nodded, beginning to walk down the rows of books. “You know of the Dewey Decimal System?”

“I use it,” I told him, closing the book with a snap. “I own the Marcier Archives down the street. My family does. My father was once a writer. Have you heard of it?”

“The one that burned down a decade ago?” he asked and I nodded, memories of the fire flickering through my mind before I stopped in front of the designated aisle. “I’m new to town. Arrived for my final semester here in Saint Helena University.”

“You’ve gone through a transfer?” I asked, frowning before I gave him a once-over. “You, Christopher, don’t look like a trouble maker.”

“Nothing of that sort, my lady,” he mused, stopping the cart to begin to sort the books with me. “I’m on a scholarship. They asked it of me.”

“They?” I asked, turning to see that he was rolling up his sleeves. He caught my eye, giving me a soft smile. “Who asked it of you?”

“The people who provided me with the scholarship,” he replied. I went back to sorting the books, Christopher hitting me with another question. “I hear you have a sister.”

“That, I do. Max.” I smiled at how manly the sound of my sister’s name was. “She’s a precious one. She’s studying in the department of medicine as we speak.”

“Department of Medicine?” he asked, unable to mask the shock in his voice. “As a woman?”

“Yes, Christopher. As a woman,” I replied.

“I-It’s just…” He frowned. “I