The Stream chat faded from Hajin's vision while charcoal settled inside the hearth. Ferra stood beside the window, tugging at the traveler trousers over her scales as though the fabric had insulted her lineage.
"Human wool feels like sand, and whoever designed these trousers has never worked beside a furnace," she muttered.
Marrick peeked over the stacked edge of the desk with his pen already ready. "Census registration requires a surname, and the tax ledger also needs a recorded origin."
"Dragon-blood crafters carry no surname, and our hammer marks identify us more honestly than your paper," Ferra replied.
"The Crown does not accept hammer drawings as valid names for tax exemptions, and the ledger has no space for artistic defiance," Marrick said.
Hajin pointed toward the empty chair standing beside the hearth. "Write Ferra of the Great Forge, and the treasury will survive the exemption."
