A few months after the business with the chalice, Annie (with a gold engagement stud in one earlobe, now receiving mail at Aldaras's apartment, and thoroughly comfortable with Being Necklaced, to the point where she's helping mold the thing towards more exacting standards for real-world-practical as well as theoretical compatibility) is in bed with some unidentified sort of head cold or flu. Aldaras doesn't have it so far, so she is snuggled under the covers while he makes her spicy soup to help clear her sinuses and because she's having a little trouble with non-liquids. He's worried, she's mostly just groggy. Zzzz.
"In general. Considering you are the person who had your mind partially hijacked by a disturbing conspiracy necklace."
"I do. I mean - if I were the one whose brain was hijacked by the conspiracy necklace, I would probably be locked in my house having a mental breakdown for a while. Are you having anything relating to that?"
"Good. Also, I'm giving you permission to rant about whatever you like to me. I will not be offended."
"I -" She shakes her head. "The fish, is my ranting. I don't need to vent. You know what happened."
"Of course I want to let them work on undoing it? Your head was hijacked and a necklace forced you to fall in love with me. That's not something that should happen."
Okay. That. Might have sounded a bit harsh, now that he looks at it from the vein of 'a person that is also in love with him.'
He sighs, and rubs his face. "Sorry. That - I should have actually thought before I said anything. Regardless. If they don't manage it - what shall we do?"
After a silence, he mutters, "It had to be you of course. Why would it be anyone else."
"In that," he continues, "you're not somewhere with barely any life experience, you're not someone who annoys me or has pressured me, you're not otherwise taken, or with complicated romantic history that I don't want any part in, and you're not someone I've never met before. I know you. I like you. I can't just - turn you away without a second thought like if you were anyone else."
She cuts herself off. And aborts a wistful plantlike lean in his direction that had been developing.
"Okay," he says, gently. "Should I just go completely against my nature and put all of my cards on the proverbial table so you know how to deal with them, then?"
"I'm obviously not handling it very well, by no means do you need to feel obligated or feel responsible or feel anything," she says, burying her face in her hands, "and I'm sorry."
"Sp- Aya. Shh, no. You're handling it beautifully. Any obligation or responsibility is something I'm choosing on my own, not anything you're causing by guilt trip or manipulation. I'm - sorry, it's been so long that I've lost all my tact, that was a genuine offer, not a 'your actions are making this necessary.'"