Chain of Gold (The Last Hours, #1)

by Cassandra Clare

She reminds me of a queen out of a fairy tale, or a peri from Lalla Rookh. You’re half-Persian, aren’t you?” “Yes,” Cordelia said, a little warily. “Then why is your brother so blond?” Anna asked. “And you so redheaded—I thought Persians were darker-haired.” Cordelia set her cup down. “There are all sorts of Persians, and we all look different,” she said. “You wouldn’t expect everyone in England to look alike, would you? Why should it be different for us? My father is British and very fair, and my mother’s hair was red when she was a little girl. Then it darkened, and as for Alastair—he dyes his hair.” “He does?” Anna’s eyebrows, graceful swooping curves, went up. “Why?” “Because he hates that his hair and skin and eyes are dark,” said Cordelia. “He always has. We have a country house in Devon, and people used to stare when we went into the village.” Anna’s eyebrows had ceased swooping and taken on a decidedly menacing look. “People are—” She broke off with a sigh and a word Cordelia didn’t know. “Now I rather feel sympathy toward your brother, and that was the last thing I wanted.

From personal experience, I understand this perfectly well being multiracial.