The clerk stared at Heena in absolute, unadulterated horror. He slowly looked past her to the tall, trembling man in the brown robe, whose face was still mostly hidden by his falling silver hair.
"Boss Heena..." the clerk stammered, his voice dropping into a frantic, panicked whisper. "I... I cannot do that! It is against all social decorum! He is a brothel slave! A man of his caste cannot be elevated to the primary seat of a free citizen's household! The local nobility would riot!"
"Show me the law," Heena demanded, her voice chillingly calm.
"I—what?"
"Show me the exact imperial law that legally prevents a free, unmarried woman from marrying whomever she pleases," Heena repeated, her dark eyes pinning the bureaucrat to his chair. "Does the imperial code state that a purchased contract cannot be converted into a marriage writ?"
"Well... no, but the customs—"
The clerk's panicked objection was entirely swallowed by the sudden, deafening wave of gasps erupting behind them.
