On the other hand, the Professor was as famous for his picky, prudish, and generally difficult disposition as he was for his scholarship. Perarre had never taken any of his courses or seminars, had never done more than glimpse him from a distance, so she had no way to judge for herself whether the envy or the pity was more appropriate.
She would find out soon enough, she told herself. She took a deep breath and knocked. A low voice responded, “Enter.”
She opened the door and walked into the apartment. “Professor Rossony? I’m Perarre Tabrano. I’ve been sent to apply for the position of translator.”
The Professor was sitting at a big cherrywood desk in the back corner of the apartment’s large main room. The desk was angled to face the door as well as the rest of the room. Perarre paused, struck by the Professor’s appearance. His black hair and fair skin were an unusual combination in the Vorunne Dominion, and there was something faintly exotic about his dark eyes, strong nose, and broad sweep of cheekbones. Broad-shouldered and apparently in fit condition, no longer youthful but still untouched by middle age, he was a perfect example of a man in his prime. The overall effect was quite striking. At least the view would be nice as she worked, Perarre thought.
“I don’t recall telling the Assignment Office that a female would be acceptable for this position,” the Professor said.