Freya had been in the kingdom for eleven minutes when she learned that she was qualified to manage its accounts payable.
This was not what she had expected from another world.
“I would like to appeal,” she said.
The dragon behind the registration desk adjusted his spectacles.
He was approximately the size of a large dog, with moss-green scales, two small horns, and a pair of wings folded neatly against his back. A silver chain connected his spectacles to a button on his waistcoat.
“On what grounds?”
“Incorrect classification.”
“Do you possess evidence?”
“I am an athlete.”
The dragon waited.
“I train six days a week.”
“Very commendable.”
“I can deadlift one hundred and twenty kilograms.”
“Congratulations.”
“I have competitive rowing experience.”
“Excellent.”
Freya leaned forward.
“Why am I a Court Administrator?”
The dragon consulted the glowing crystal mounted above his desk.
“Because you are a Court Administrator.”
Shira made a small sound behind her.
Freya turned.
“Are you laughing?”
“No.”
“You are.”
“I inhaled.”
“You inhaled sarcastically.”
Shira looked toward the ceiling.
“I can't control how you interpret oxygen.”
The dragon tapped a claw against a parchment.
“Your aptitude has been verified by the Crown's Classification Prism. Appeals may be submitted in writing, provided the appellant can establish a procedural irregularity.”
“Good,” Freya said. “Where is the form?”
The dragon looked at her.
Something in his expression changed.
