Chapter 1: The Misfired Spell, The Change, and The Court Ruling

  The Morning of the Incident

  Cam had always prided himself on his practical mindset. Unlike many in Paddlewick, he didn’t put much stock in the kingdom’s rigid traditions, its obsessive bureaucracy, or its belief that wives should be little more than soft...spoken ornaments. Sure, he followed the rules, he had to, but that didn’t mean he respected them. So when his friend Marcus dragged him to the Ministry of Male Virtue for a routine magical inspection, he didn’t expect it to be anything but a minor inconvenience.

  "Standard procedure, mate," Marcus had told him. "They check your vitality, make sure you're still all man, and then we get a drink."

  Cam sighed, rolling his eyes as he pulled his coat tighter around him.

  "You realize how stupid this is, right? You’ve got spells enforcing chastity, ws dictating what wives can wear, scrolls that say women can’t walk alone at night, and now a full magical inspection of what? My ability to grow a beard?"

  Marcus gave a weary smile. "You know how it is. Just nod, agree, and we’re out in ten minutes." Cam sighed, stepping into the ministry building. If only he knew how wrong he was.

  The Spell Gone Wrong

  The Ministry of Male Virtue was an ornate, over...decorated monstrosity, filled with stiff...backed officials in long, impractical robes. Cam had barely been in the waiting area five minutes before a clerk ushered him into a sterile white chamber lined with shelves of ancient, overcomplicated spell books. A wizened old mage in a powdered wig squinted at him.

  "Name?"

  "Cameron Alistair."

  "Age?"

  "Twenty...six"

  "Occupation?"

  "Bookkeeper and scribe."

  The mage frowned at his notes. "Not a craftsman? Not a soldier?"

  "No, I use my brain."

  The mage didn’t seem impressed. He snapped his fingers, summoning a floating quill, which hovered over a thick official scroll beled Male Integrity Verification.

  "Very well, we shall proceed. Kindly step forward."

  Cam sighed and moved to the center of the chamber, where the mage began a standard enchantment check—a light glow shimmering over his body as the magic searched for imperfections, weaknesses, or abnormalities.

  "Hmm. Interesting." The mage frowned. "Your masculine essence seems… unstable."

  Cam scowled. "What the hell does that mean?"

  "It means," the mage continued, "that I must apply a reinforcing spell. Hold still." Before Cam could protest, the old fool waved his hand and muttered a complex incantation. For a moment, nothing happened. Then came the heat. It started at his core, seeping through his limbs, his skin, his very bones, a sensation of shifting, softening, shrinking.

  His vision blurred. His knees buckled. A sudden, sickening lurch spread through his body as if the world itself was reshaping him, compressing him, altering him at a fundamental level. He tried to speak, but his voice cracked, growing breathier, lighter. His coat grew heavy on his shoulders… no, that wasn’t it. His frame was getting smaller beneath it. His chest ached, skin tightening as new curves formed, and his hips widened with an unmistakable, unnatural pull. It was over in seconds. The magic settled, the air grew still, and the mage frowned down at him with annoyance rather than concern.

  "Well, that certainly didn’t work as intended."

  Cam staggered forward, catching his reflection in a polished brass pte on the wall. The man he had been was gone. A soft-faced woman stared back at him, eyes wide in horror.

  The Court Ruling: The Death of Cameron Alistair

  The Ministry of Male Virtue was quick to call for an emergency tribunal. Paddlewick’s Courts of Gender and Discipline were notorious for their strict adherence to tradition, especially when it came to matters of sex and social order.

  Cam, now trapped in his new form, sat stiff...backed in a courtroom lined with grim...faced nobles and self...important magistrates, his newly delicate hands clenching into fists beneath the thick courtroom desk. The Chief Magistrate, an old, thin...lipped man with a powdered wig, gnced at the official documents before him and cleared his throat.

  "The Ministry of Male Virtue has reported an… unfortunate misfire of restorative magic. The subject, formerly known as Cameron Alistair, has been rendered physically female, albeit imperfectly."

  “But I still have a dick and balls for gods sake!” Cameron yelled, “How the fuck does that not disqualify me as a woman?!”

  The magistrate’s gaze flickered down to the bulge in Cam’s pants, the one lingering remnant of Cam’s masculinity.

  "Yes, given these… incomplete results, there was some debate as to the subject’s official status." Cam straightened, a glimmer of hope sparking in his chest. "However," the magistrate continued, tone sharpening, "Paddlewick w is clear. Any body which no longer holds the form of a man is, by definition, a woman. Ultimately the aforementioned parts are a small issue"

  “Small issue? That’s as hurtful as it is stupid! Cam yelled.

  “Regardless, we will proceed as decred, the former Cameron is cssified as a woman.”

  Cam’s stomach dropped. "Thus, by legal and magical decree, Cameron Alistair no longer exists. In his pce stands a woman, Candy Alistair, who must abide by the ws and expectations of her sex."

  Cam — no, Candy, felt cold horror creep into his bones.

  "As per Paddlewick's customs, all women require a male guardian. As Cameron Alistair had no living father and is unmarried, she must now be pced under appropriate male care."

  Candy barely heard the rest. His mind was spiraling,trying to find a way out, trying to protest, trying to hold onto something real. But he couldn’t. Because the court did not care who he had been. Only who they decred him to be.

  "Given her ck of family, the court has arranged a solution. One Marcus Elwood, a longstanding friend of the subject, has agreed to take responsibility for her as a wife."

  Candy’s head snapped up.

  "WHAT?!" A clerk stamped the ruling onto official parchment, and just like that, his fate was sealed.

  The Moment of No Return

  Marcus sat rigid beside Candy in the courtroom. He had fought against this, but there had been no other option.

  "It was this or letting the court pce you under some noble’s care," he had whispered the night before. "Do you know what would have happened to you then?"

  Candy hadn’t answered. Because he knew. He wasn’t Cameron Alistair anymore. His freedom, his rights, his name, his body, all of it was gone. And from that moment forward, he belonged to Marcus.

  As a wife.

  As a woman.

  As Candy.

  And there was nothing he could do to stop it...