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.
"... What's her Adarin-number?" wonders Prime. "And can I have an analysis of it."
"Yeah. I mean, it's still - I'm - my head's working all right. It just had a renovation."
"A bit. It leaks into other things, too. There was a part in one of the books about how the numbers are - how they're on the same scale? I'm pretty sure mine are not on that scale. Because I'm factoring in how things affect Annie, too. Because..."
"If you haven't gotten to that section yet," says Spring, "Katydid has a fix for the clumsiness. You can pop into Hex for it if she's not around whenever you're ready."
"Aww, pretty! I think if we go around flying people are going to want to swipe whatever's letting us do it, so we might want to go with something more unobtrusive."
"We have them already, that's how it works is you get them in pairs, we just haven't had our wedding yet. We should invite all our alts! The ones who look like me can pretend to be Chorasmian and go in veils."
"Is there a similar tradition for men in that culture? Because a large portion of us also look exactly the same. Conduit and Revival could probably get away with pretending to be sisters, but I think every other but me will have trouble."