"Then… I suppose we shall accept?" Penelope said, looking to him for his approval. He gave the briskest of nods.
"Then, if you would give me but a few minutes," the clerk said.
He returned to the room no sooner than ten minutes later, leaving the two of them alone, with only the guards that stoically dotted each corner of the room as company.
"This," he said, pushing a well-used bit of parchment in front of them. In the bottom corner, it was stamped with bronze coloured wax, bearing the sigil that Vol had seen plastered all over the magistrate's office, from walls, to doorknobs – the sigil of two unicorns grasping a shield. "Work for minor nobility. There's been a land dispute. They're looking for men to see it settled."
"Work with nobles?" Penelope said in surprise. "I wouldn't have thought that we would be allowed that, with us being as low ranked as we are."
