Captain Vorpatril's alliance

Tej replied, “After the old general died, she came to live with the Baronne and us for a while. When we kids were all younger. She left almost eight years ago. I haven’t seen her since‑but she wasn’t in the least mummified then. She wasn’t young, of course, and her hair had turned this fascinating silver color, meters of it, it seemed like, but she was perfectly limber. And tall. And very dignified. It was like‑it wasn’t that she couldn’t move fast, it was simply that she didn’t choose to.”

A smile of memory flickered across Rish’s lips. “That was her.”

There was a bustle at the door to the antechamber, and Lady Vorkosigan‑Lady Ekaterin? – entered, followed by two maidservants with not so much a trolley as a train of carts loaded high with a bountiful formal tea. Everyone came to attention, even The Gregor. The two black‑clad guards were already at attention, but every once in a while their eyes flicked longingly toward all the clinking and gurgling going on around the fireplace. It was not until coffee, two kinds of teas, a dozen sorts of little sandwiches and cakes and tarts, freshly candied fruits, marzipan dainties, and miniature and rather messy cream cakes were served that the conversation resumed, limping around the chewing and swallowing. Rish was nearly mesmerized with sensory bliss.

“Ma Kosti is always especially inspired by one of your visits, Gregor,” Lady Ekaterin told the emperor, who smiled.

“Don’t even think about it, Gregor,” said the Coz.

“I suppose an Imperial military draft would be cheating,” replied The Gregor with a sigh, and homed in on his third cream cakelet.

Everyone was amused. Except for Tej and Rish, who were bewildered. Tej nudged Ivan Xav, but he was chewing, too, and just shook his head. “’Splain later,” he mumbled. “Miles defends his cook with his life.”

The Coz washed down his bite with a gulp of tea and told his wife, “Just before you came in, Lady Tej was starting to tell us about her Cetagandan haut grandmother, the late General ghem Estif’s relict. She was apparently on Barrayar toward the end of the Occupation, if you can imagine. She must have been close to old General Piotr’s age.”

Lady Ekaterin nibbled a frosted cherry, licked her fingers, and nodded. “Oh, Ivan, you’ll have to introduce Tej to Rene and Tatya Vorbretten when they get back to town.”

Giving up on Ivan, Tej looked her question at the Coz.

He waved a cucumber‑and‑cream‑cheese sandwich expansively in the air, and said, “Count Vorbretten. Bit of a scandal a few years back, when a gene scan turned up that he was one‑eighth Cetagandan ghem. On the male side, unfortunately for Barrayaran inheritance law. Dating back to his great‑grandmother and the Occupation, it seemed.”

Ivan put in, “They were dubbing him Rene Ghembretten for a while, but the Council of Counts finally voted to let him keep his countship. A near thing, it was. I was glad of it. Exceptionally nice fellow.”

“Exceptionally diligent District count,” said The Gregor.

“Now that gene scanning has become widely available,” said Lady Ekaterin to Tej and Rish, “quite a few such hidden links are being turned up. Despite huge pressures at the time from both sides against such crosses. The Occupation lasted for two decades, after all.”

“Humans will be humans,” said her husband. “And so make more humans.” They exchanged amused smiles, which fell rather short of private.

“Rene’s case is hardly unique, as far as inter‑Nexus romances on Barrayar go,” said The Gregor. “Miles’s mother Countess Cordelia is famously from Beta Colony, as was Ivan’s‑and Miles’s‑great‑grandmother who married the celebrated diplomat Prince Xav.”

Tej turned in surprise to Ivan. “You’re really one‑eighth Betan? You never said!” Rish’s gold eyebrows, too, went up.

Ivan Xav shrugged. “Can’t say as I much think about it. It was a long time ago. Before I was born.” He topped this unassailable observation with a marzipan violet, and chewed defensively.

“This medical clinic on Escobar that took your brother the Jacksonian refugee under its wing, the one with the special contact with your late parents…” the Coz said slowly, returning to a subject Tej had hoped was lost in the shuffle.

She stiffened.

“It wouldn’t by chance be the Durona Group, would it?” he went on.

Rish gasped, a glazed orange segment dropping from her hand as she stared in horror. “Did ImpSec know all the time?”

“Apparently not,” said The Gregor, looking up with a scarily keen interest.

“How did you know?” Tej demanded. It was a secret she’d almost died to protect…

“Informed guess.”

“ Mark’s Durona Group?” Ivan Xav looked indignantly at Tej. “You could’ve stood to have said this earlier!”

“What do you know about them?” Rish, still tense with alarm, asked the Coz.