"Wangji," Claudius repeats, and his smile broadens around it. When they were strangers to each other, he remembers copying Lan Wangji's courtesies, correcting himself through observation, sliding Lan back into his greetings as though he'd never let it slip. He wanted all his adaptations to look effortless, to prove his cosmopolitanism, which was absurd when they weren't even from the same world. To his surprise, Wangji doesn't feel like a step backwards, returning to his first clumsy tests with terms of address. It feels lighter on his tongue, lighter than even Lan Wangji with the title. Simply put, "I like the sound of it. You’ll be hearing it until you’re sick of it, I’m sure. Wangji, I’ve such a story tell thee. Wangji, I need thy counsel. Wangji, what does cut-sleeve mean? The last comes from meeting your unfortunate in-law.”