Miles in Love - Lois McMaster Bujold [185]
"Ha," said Ivan glumly. "Do you know what those bastards have done to me?"
Miles shook his head, brows rising inquisitively.
"I have been formally seconded to my mother—my mother—as aide-de-camp till the wedding's over. I joined the Service to get away from my mother, blast it. And now she's suddenly my chain of command!"
His cousin's brief grin was entirely without sympathy. "Until Laisa is safely hitched to Gregor, and can take over her duties as his political hostess, your mother may be the most important person in Vorbarr Sultana. Don't underestimate her. I've seen planetary invasion plans less complex than what's being booted about for this Imperial Wedding. It's going to take all Aunt Alys's generalship to bring it off."
Ivan shook his head. "I knew I should have put in for off-planet duty while I still could. Komarr, Sergyar, some dismal embassy, anywhere but Vorbarr Sultana."
Miles's face sobered. "I don't know, Ivan. Short of a surprise attack, this is the most politically important event of—I was about to say, of the year, but I really think, of our lifetimes. The more little heirs Gregor and Laisa can put between you and me and the Imperium, the safer we'll be. Us and our families."
"We don't have families yet," Ivan pointed out. So, is that what's on his mind with the pretty widow? Oh ho!
"Would we have dared? I sure thought about the issue, every time I got close enough to a woman to . . . never mind. But this wedding needs to run on rails, Ivan."
"I'm not arguing with that," said Ivan sincerely. He reached down to dissuade the kitten, who had licked the plate clean, from trying to sharpen its claws on his polished boots. A few moments spent petting it in his lap bought it off from that enthusiasm, and it settled down, purring, to the serious business of digesting and growing more hairs to shed on Imperial uniforms. "So what's your widow's first name, say again?" Miles hadn't actually imparted that bit of information, yet.
"Ekaterin," Miles sighed. His mouth seemed to caress all four syllables before reluctantly parting with them.
Oh, yeah. Ivan thought back over every bit of chaff his cousin had ever inflicted upon him for his numerous love affairs. Did you think I was a stone, for you to sharpen your wits upon? Opportunities to even the score seemed to hover on the horizon like rain clouds after a long drought. "Grief-stricken, is she, you say? Seems to me she could use someone with a sense of humor, to cheer her up. Not you, you're clearly in one of your funks. Maybe I ought to volunteer to show her the town."
Miles had poured himself more tea and been just about to put his feet up on a neighboring chair; at this, they came back down with a thump. "Don't even think about it. This one is mine."
"Really? You secretly betrothed already? Quick work, coz."
"No," he admitted grudgingly.
"You have some sort of an understanding?"
"Not yet."
"So she is not, in point of fact, anyone's but her own. At present."
Uncharacteristically, Miles took a slow sip of tea before responding. "I mean to change that. When the time is right, which it surely is not yet."
"Hey, all's fair in love and war. Why can't I try?"
Miles snapped back, "If you step in this, it will be war."
"Don't let your exalted new status go to your head, coz. Even an Imperial Auditor can't order a woman to sleep with him."
"Marry him," Miles corrected frostily.
Ivan tilted his head, his grin spreading. "My God, you are gone completely over the edge. Who'd have guessed it?"
Miles bared his teeth. "Unlike you, I have never pretended to not be interested in that fate. I have no brave bachelor speeches to eat. Nor a juvenile reputation as a local stud to maintain. Or live down, as the case may be."
"My, we are snarky today."
Miles took a deep breath; before he could speak, Ivan put in, "Y'know, that head-down hostile scrunch makes you look more hunch-backed. You ought to watch that."
After a long, chill silence, Miles said softly, "Are you challenging my