Book 3 Chapter 35: The Greatest Joke Ever Told
Jacopo sat across from Magister Desha, the woman Dantes had given money to so that she could become a magister. She wore a black dress with silver thread in an intricate pattern around the neck and sleeves. Her hair, which had still had a bit of orange in it when Dantes had last spoken to her, was now completely blonde, freeing her of any connection she once had to Danglars. She sat up a bit straighter, there was more steal in her spine than she’d had in Dantes’s memories.
“The last hearing for accepting an exiled noble was thirty years ago, but the magister making the judgment in your case is the same one who handled that case, as well as the previous one thirty two years before that,” she said, reading from a piece of parchment.
Jacopo drummed his fingers on her desk impatiently, wishing two-legs had thought it more appropriate to chew on bones casually. The crunch of some bone and the taste of marrow would be good at that moment.
“There are records of some people from your nation coming to Rendhold and being accepted before, but they’re old. Nearly the age of the city itself.”
Jacopo nodded, Vampa had given them the nation's name and Dantes had forged the documents about it himself. Dantes had thought they were perfect, but to Jacopo it was all a bunch of useless scrawls. He could read, it was a skill he was able to pull from Dantes, but he hated it. Even talking was too slow. He simply wanted to take what he wanted and move on from there.
Desha noted his fingers drumming on her brand new desk and frowned. She’d expected some kind of money laundering or backroom deal for Dantes, helping an exiled noble get recognized was not what she’d planned on, especially one she was fairly certain was fake, but that wasn’t her business. He was nice to look at, but that didn’t make up for the gruffness of both him and his bodyguard.
“The main problem, I think, will be the fact that you’re a mutt.”
Jacopo stopped his drumming. “A mutt?”
She nodded. “You’re mixed, you’ve got,” she squinted at him, “ orc, elf, human…a bit of dwarf I’d guess too. Most nobles that come here were pure-blooded, or at worst half-blooded. Sure there are a few mutt nobles here now from interbreeding, but the magister we’re seeing today is old. He’ll be concerned about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the only thing he asks about.”