The world of Twig is a world of created life. With the constraint of some traditions lifted, with others imposed, the world of Twig has different standards and morals regarding the worth of a person versus the 1920s seen in the Real World.
The Crown system is descended from European aristocracy and as such is primarily white. In the Crown states. 'Orientals' and 'blacks are seen, but are considered rare, especially in positions of power.
↑“Not knowing what you are, I’m not sure I’m willing to risk it. For all I know, you’re a human they grew in a jar.”
“I’m real. Woman-born,” I said. “An adjustment made after the fact, so my head works in a slightly different way. A shot to the heart will kill me. But maybe one to the heart, watch me die, then finish me off with one to the head? As one experiment to another, it would be very much appreciated.” - Excerpt from Taking Root 1.7
↑“My lord?” she said, and she stopped. For a long instant, I thought she would stumble. Then I saw a light in her eyes. “The welfare of clones, my lord?”
“That is one I have never heard of before,” he said. He smiled, his voice still warm as he instructed her, “Tell me of it.”
“My friend commented on it once, and it stuck with me,” she said. She still looked bewildered, but talking on this topic seemed to center her. “Clones are grown and raised to perform menial work. Stitching carpets and clothing in factories where they sit in row and column with others like them. The law doesn’t protect them, but says that they are not actually human, because they are not of woman born.”
“The law, in this instance, favors the corporations, which fund the city, which funds the law, you see,” the noble said. “That sounds like a wonderful pursuit. If you paint it as something that troubles children or child-like things, you could romanticize it. In fact, I would see little trouble in giving you my backing for this task. You could achieve real change, a footnote in history, but, even so, that isn’t to be understated.” - Excerpt from Thicker than Water 14.4
↑That same light made the cases on their backs and shoulders seem to glow, and the jaundiced color of their skin became especially apparent, a sallow yellow marked with dull grey tattoos.
Prison tattoos. Convicts. They weren’t stitched. They were people. The Academy needed its fodder for human experimentation, and prisoners of war, the worst criminals, and ex-slaves deemed unfit to be citizens of the crown were all candidates for such. - Excerpt from Lips Sealed 3.2