Camille blushed furiously as she scurried from the bathroom. When she’d seen Natalie—the red-headed girl from css—scrambling through the halls of the training facility, she hadn’t known what to think. Red faced and visibly flustered, in a clear rush to get somewhere, the sight had caught Camille’s attention. She’d followed almost by instinct.

  Which was weird, she knew. Especially because she had hidden her pursuit, slinking around ers to not be seen. But she hadn’t been able to help herself. Natalie had been in such a state, and so Camille had been equally curious why.

  And then following her into the bathroom? Even stalking her had been weird enough, but in? That’d crossed the line, even if the first part hadn’t.

  But, again, her curiosity had been piqued. She’d ood a ce when it came to resisting her curiosity. Stig her nose where it didn’t belong was, essentially, Camille’s most fual fw. Or virtue. That same inquisitiveness was why Cara Gylver had taken notice of her. Camille had discovered that at Te, her try drawl and “unrefined speech patterns” suggested to many that she was a woman of slow wits, or at best, a ckadaisical mind, but the opposite was true. As her adoption into House Gylver loudly procimed. The infamous ‘House of Iy’ cared for little besides keenness of mind.

  So, seeing her cssmate flee down the hall, flushed aed looking … she had followed. Against better judgment. And propriety.

  And then not just to her destination, but in. If she lied to herself, she had o use the restroom, anyway. She hadered with io intrude. It was just a ce she had goo the same bathroom her fleeing target had.

  Well, no. Even she couldn’t lie to herself that btantly. She guessed she was just a nosy person.

  Inside, Camille had discovered a reason to the girl’s flustered state. An answer she had distinctly not expected. Ued answers, she had found, teo be the best. Her favorites.

  This ohough. She hadn’t made her mind up on what she thought about it. Whether it adhered to that trend. Her head was still spinning, s through what she’d discovered.

  Because Natalie—her cssmate, who had trounced her and Ellis in spars this m—had been masturbating, loudly, in a public restroom.

  Sure, she’d probably fled to this secluded part of the facility explicitly seeking privacy, and Camille had slipped in as quietly as possible, not letting the door squeak as she i open, but still. It was in public. Did she have that little discretion?

  And she had a cock.

  The more … important surprise.

  Yes, she’d peeked. eously nosy, as she’d already admitted—even to the point of perversion, apparently. She’d already chased a red-faced girl across the facility, then followed her into the bathroom, purposefully hiding her feet by sitting on the sink and raising them. And while Camille wouldn’t have ihe girl’s privacy if nothing untoward had started happening, Camille had felt the faint hum of magid a few moments ter, the noises had started.

  hat said Natalie was very mujoying herself.

  So, she’d looked. And seen a cock. On a girl. Camille didn’t know what was going on with that. Her first thought had been the obvious—Natalie simply presented as a woman, but had been born a man. Camille of course had no problems with that, but she had a feeling it wasn’t Natalie’s situation. It didn’t feel right. Camille suspected something else. Somethiypical.

  So, Camille was doubly intrigued.

  Beyond being mortified, of course. At herself, and Natalie. She’d caught her cssmate jerking off to an illusion she’d jured. And, Architect above, it had been a detailed illusion. Those curves—the bck lingerie. How was it so finely crafted? And who was it?

  A friend of hers?

  How indiscreet, if so. The idea thrilled through Camille. What an … iing ability. And what shamelesso use it in that way.

  Regardless of the who, what, and why, Camille was ied, even more than when she’d first pursued Natalie across the facility. Her cheeks might be burning hot enough they felt like they’d melt off, but she wasn’t a prude. And it wasn’t Natalie’s fault she’d been spied on. Camille had invaded her privacy, in a pretty direct way.

  Though, at the same time, seriously. It ublic restroom. She khey were crammed in the barracks for the short term, but really? She couldn’t just deal with that, for a week or two, until she had actual privacy?

  All of it was irrelevant. Camille’s mi ing back to the same thing. A girl with a coatalie’s curves, bined with the way her hand had been w frantically up and down. The image was so seared into her brain that she couldn’t tear her attention away from it. She almretted having to leave. Maybe she could’ve … ied herself into that event. She suspected Natalie would’ve been ameo the idea.

  A decision slowly solidified in her mind. O made sciously.

  It seemed, over the week, Camille had a cssmate she’d be trying to make friends with. She had some things to learn. Some … questions she wanted answered. Hopefully first hand.

  Very first hand.

  ***

  Natalie slunk from the bathroom, so mortified she thought she might genuinely curl up and die. It would be a idy solution to her problems. Unfortunately, she had to face the reality of the situation. She’d been caught.

  Or, probably. She didn’t have any guarantees of anything, which was almost worse. The bathroom door had swung closed … and she hadn’t been that quiet. If there’d been someone ihey’d known what was going on.

  But surely they hadn’t peeked? Maybe they’d e in a immediately. There had been a trash directly o the door. Maybe they’d e in to use that, the quickly? Without notig?

  There did exist a universe where Natalie hadn’t been caught. She didn’t believe she was fortunate enough for it to be this one, but Natalie could g to the hope like a overboard woman did a raft.

  It wasn’t fair. She’d had an overwhelmingly entig idea—one relevant to her css—and she’d wao test it. There weren’t any private facilities for her to do so, so she’d had to make do. It wasn’t her fault. And maybe she’d gotten carried away, but she was only human.

  Ugh. Excuses.

  Either way, the event was over. Probably, nothing would e of it. That was what she told herself. She had other things to worry about, ones more important thaher a voyeur had spied on her ihroom. There wasn’t anything she could do to front the problem, so she’d just ig.

  Or try to.

  So embarrassing.