Miles in Love - Lois McMaster Bujold [312]
"I think," said Richars primly after a moment, "your cousin Ivan may be a very confused young man."
"Not about that, he's not," Miles sighed.
"This is irrelevant." Richars impatiently brushed away the question of Ivan's sexuality, of whatever mode.
"I must agree."
"Look, Miles." Richars tented his hands in a gesture of reason. "I know you Vorkosigans have backed the Progressives since Piotr's days ended, just as we Vorrutyers have always been staunch Conservatives. But this prank of Donna's attacks the basis of Vor power itself. If we Vor do not stand together on certain core issues, the time will come when all Vor will find ourselves with nothing left to stand upon. I assume I can count on your vote."
"I hadn't really given the suit much thought yet."
"Well, think about it now. It's coming up very soon."
All right, all right, granted, the fact that Dono amused Miles considerably more than Richars did was not, in and of itself, qualification for a Countship. He was going to have to step back and evaluate this. Miles sighed, and tried to force himself to attend more seriously to Richars's presentation.
Richars probed, "Are there any matters you are pursuing in Council at the moment, especially?"
Richars was angling for a vote-trade, or more properly, a trade in vote-futures, since, unlike Miles's, his vote was vapor right now. Miles thought it over. "Not at present. I have a personal interest in the Komarran solar mirror repair, since I think it will be a good investment for the Imperium, but Gregor seems to have his majority well in hand on that one." In other words, you don't have anything I need, Richars. Not even in theory. But he added after a moment's further reflection, "By-the-by, what do you think of René Vorbretten's dilemma?"
Richars shrugged. "Unfortunate. Not René's fault, I suppose, the poor sod, but what's to be done?"
"Reconfirm René in his own right?" Miles suggested mildly.
"Impossible," said Richars with conviction. "He's Cetagandan."
"I am trying to think by what possible criteria anyone could sanely describe René Vorbretten as a Cetagandan," said Miles.
"Blood," said Richars without hesitation. "Fortunately, there is an untainted Vorbretten line of descent to draw on to take his place. I imagine Sigur will grow into René's Countship well enough in time."
"Have you promised Sigur your vote?"
Richars cleared his throat. "Since you mention it, yes."
Therefore, Richars now possessed the promise of Count Vormoncrief's support. Nothing to be done for René with that tight little circle. Miles merely smiled.
"This delay in my confirmation has been maddening," Richars went on after a moment. "Three months wasted, while the Vorrutyer's District drifts without a hand on the controls, and Donna prances around having her sick little joke."
"Mm, that sort of surgery is neither trivial nor painless." If there was one techno-torture on which Miles was an expert, it was modern medicine. "In a strange sense, Dono killed Donna for this chance. I think he's deathly serious. And having sacrificed so much for it, I imagine he's likely to value the prize."
"You're not—" Richars looked taken aback. "You're surely not thinking of voting for her, are you? You can't imagine your father endorsing that!"
"Plainly, if I do, he does. I am his Voice."
"Your grandfather," Richars looked around the sitting room, "would spin in his grave!"
Miles's lips drew back on a humorless smile. "I don't know, Richars. Lord Dono makes an excellent first impression. He may be received everywhere the first time for curiosity, but I can well imagine him being invited back on his own merits."
"Is that why you received her at Vorkosigan House, for curiosity? I must say, you didn't help the Vorrutyers with that. Pierre was strange—did he ever show you his collection of hats lined with gold foil?—and his sister's no improvement. The woman should be clapped in an attic for this whole appalling escapade."