He was pretty sure N'alae would have hit him for noticing the way she looked when she did that.

His hand caught in the coat, pulled when Nero backed up.

Ayel blinked. Why would--?

...Oh. Maybe?

"Are they." Not really a question, just an excuse to lean, to curve his--her--long throat. He spread Sharra's hands over the fabric, fingers smoothing at creases.

"Trousers won't match," Ayel said softly, matter of fact. "We should trade."