Ok. So. I've been a BAD Caramina. I haven't posted for months. Six, to be exact. Someone finally yelled at me to work on it some more, and look what happened! The longest chapter to date! Some notes: I noticed that I had committed a MAJOR canon bad--something no one had noticed, despite catching numerous other, less significant, mistakes. The district taxes are, in fact, done on the Emperor's Birthday, not during Winterfaire. My bad, and I apologize. From here on out, the mistake will be corrected, and there will even be and instance of the real Winterfaire, which is actually four months away from the Emperor's Birthday (see Mirror Dance). And yes, there will still be a Winterfaire Surprise. Cordelia makes her first appearance here. For anyone who ever wondered, it is VERY difficult to write for Cordelia. If I have in some way sullied the character, or portrayed her in any way less than authentic, I apologize. Its hard enough to follow that woman thought processes, never mind write them. I expect Aral will be harder, if I decide to include him. Miles is unavailable for a REASON. (mostly, my own entertainment) So...enjoy.

Oh, right. -deep sigh-. It belongs to Lois, not to me. I don't want it, I make no money from it, and I am so close to flat broke its ridiculous. Please don't sue me. You ask for stoppage, it is stopped.

House Vorrutyer

"What's that, love?"

Dono turned to his wife. "My newest communication from our young friend," he said, and handed her the piece of paper.

Olivia took the heavy cream sheet and read:

My dear Count Dono,

I must make a great request of you. I have received the Emperor's blessing in this endeavor (he said "Lets see what happens," just as you guessed). I have also received my Uncle's permission to contact a certain Friend of your acquaintance. This particular personage may not wish to assist me in my endeavor, as our families have been in Great Opposition since long before the Pretendership. I would greatly appreciate it if the contained letter could make its way discretely to their House.

Thank you,

Lady Isolde Vorhalas

Olivia sat, carefully. "How...fascinating. I assume she is speaking of the Vorkosigans?"

"I can think of no other. The letter has no address on it, so I also must assume she expects it to be read by any member of the household."

Olivia pursed her lips. "I will take it, then. I was going to see Tante Cordelia sometime this week anyway, I'll just make it sooner."

Countess Vorrutyer's trip to Vorkosigan House laster that day was short. As the canopy of the groundcar went up, she could see the sunken garden in the side yard—but she could not see Ekaterin. :Did they go to the Searleu? At this time of day she's usually working...:

Pym opened the door to her. "Countess Olivia," he said. "This is unexpected. My lord and milady are down at Vorkosigan Searleu for the week..."

"That's quite alright, Pym. Is Tante Cordelia in?"

"Yes, she and Lady Alys are in the Library." He tapped the comm. "Milady?"

Tante Cordelia's voice came back. "Yes, Pym?"

"Countess Vorrutyer is here and requests to see you."

"Olivia? Oh, do send her in, Pym."

"Yes, milady." He cut the comm.

Tante Cordelia and Lady Alys were having tea when Olivia came in, along with some delicious looking Ma Kosti snacks.

"Hello, Olivia, how are you and Dono?"

"Quite well, Tante. How is the Count?"

Cordelia handed her some tea. "Better, I must say. He hopes to be here within the next few weeks. Some business on Sergyar kept him from coming with me."

Olivia sipped her tea and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Cordelia, but this isn't entirely a social call."

Alys gave her a once over. "Do tell, my dear Countess."

Olivia was not entirely sure whether or not Lady Isolde thought Lady Alys to be officially enough of a member of Vorkosigan house, but...:I'll let Tante Cordelia decide.: Setting aside her tea, she drew out Lady Isolde's sealed letter. She looked to Lady Alys. "Do you remember, at the Emperor's Birthday, when Vorhalas' little niece went to give the District taxes?" Alys nodded.

"Yes, I remember thinking that it was a particularly bold move for the Count..."

Cordelia looked magnificently interested "Vorhalas' niece?"

"Great niece, actually," Alys filled in. "Rulf was her grandfather. His son, Petrov, the one that survived—"

"Yes, I remember..."

"Was to be Count Vorhalas' heir. Lord and Lady Vorhalas, and their son, Lord Rulf Anton, were killed in a lightflier accident three months ago."

"I did get that, in one of the ImpSec briefings. I knew they had another child, but...Wasn't there another male heir?"

"You would think so, but so far they haven't even been able to roust up even any bastards. The Vorhalas' were honorable to the pain, it appears."

"And now," Olivia put in, "The Count is ill."

"And she is not old enough to have married yet, I take it?" Cordelia asked.

"No."

"How old is she, now that its been mentioned..."

Olivia thought for a moment. "Seventeen, I believe."

"Hmm...So..."

"So. A few weeks ago Dono receive a letter from the Lady Vorhalas via her maidservant to our Armsman. She was trying to find out whether or not she had any chance of attaining the Countship upon her Uncle's death." Cordelia smiled. "We encouraged her, but told her to see Gregor first. She did, at the Birthday ball."

"What did he say?"

"She quotes him as saying 'Let's see what happens'."

Cordelia began to smirk. "I...see."

"Which brings me," Olivia concluded, "To the reason for my visit, which is to convey this to you." She handed across the letter.

Cordelia took it and broke the seal. She read through the first page, handed it to Alys, and did the same with the second page. It was a long silence as Alys finished the letter.

"How...interesting," Alys concluded. "She is very convincing. Certainly intelligent, but lacking in refinement."

"That only comes with practice, Alys dear."

"It -can- be learned."

"Are you offering?"

Alys glanced at Cordelia sharply. "It is not," she said stiffly, "Entirely my decision."

Cordelia sat silent for a few moments, apparently in deep thought. Olivia held her breath and wondered just what had been in that letter.

"It is long past time that this be attempted. As it seems to be the perfect opportunity, and since Gregor has approved it...I wonder, though. -I- certainly have no problem helping her because she is Vorhalas—I should be most interested to discover what she thinks of her late cousins Carl and Evan out of her uncle's hearing. She may even be trying to kill two birds with one stone..." she trailed off. "I will certainly persuade Miles and Aral to lend their support," she began again abruptly. "I assume Dono has been making some contacts already?"

"Oh, yes," Olivia replied, fascinated by Cordelia's response. "Rene—Count Vorbretten, that is—thinks this is a most interesting experiment."

Alys tapped a perfectly enameled fingernail on her lips. "Lady Isolde's mother was the sister of Count Vorpinski, as I recall. Perhaps..."

"Yes..." Cordelia prompted.

"A possible contact, Cordelia."

"A quiet contact, until we blow this open?"

"I believe so."

"You'll help her?" Olivia hoped perked.

Alys and Cordelia shared a most terrifying Look. "Certainly," Cordelia said, looking back to Olivia. "She was, after all, very convincing."

It had been three days.

:I hate waiting. I simply...-loathe- waiting.: Dono had not yet replied. That was very, distinctly, extremely ungood. Isolde was pacing up and down the second floor corridor. :I do not have time for this sort of thing. I must move, and move quickly. March or die.: March or die...now who had said that, it sounded achingly familiar...

The loss of forward momentum right now had the very real potential of being disastrous. Tentative contacts with Counts Vorsmythe and Vorvolk had proved fruitful, especially with the Emperor's backing—but showing her intentions too openly could be very, very bad. If that letter had gone astray...

"You'll wear yourself out like that, milady."

Isolde whipped around, startled. One of her Uncle's doctors, Bhortas, was standing at the door of the Count's chambers. From his scruffy appearance, he had just gotten off shift. He raised his hands. "I apologize. I did not mean to frighten you."

"Startled only, Doctor Bhortas."

"You will wear yourself out," he repeated.

"Pardon?"

"You're pacing. You also don't sleep enough."

"And how, my dear doctor, would you know that?"

"The light from under your door is visible in this hall whenever I come on shift, milady."

So the doctor was nosy. "You come on shift at midnight. That is not very late."

"I come on shift at two in the morning. But your light does not go out for another two hours."

:Oops.: Dammit, her sleeping habits were none of his concern..."You are," she said, "Supposed to be watching my Uncle's health, Doctor Bhortas, not mine."

"True, milady. But my duty also extends to all members of the Vorhalas family; in fact, to every person in this House. And I am sorry, Lady Vorhalas, but you must sleep."

Isolde paused for a long moment.

"If you -cannot- sleep, milady, I can give you—"

"Thank you, Doctor, that will not be necessary."

"Milady, if you do not sleep—"

"I shall become very sick, Doctor, I understand. However, if I do not finish my work—"

"If you do not sleep, milady, then you will spend several days or weeks in recovery rather than a few hours unconscious."

-That- gave her pause. Dammit, he was right, the son of a... "Very good, Doctor Bhortas, I will turn in early tonight. If I am unable to sleep by the time your shift starts, then I will certainly seek your...medicinal assistance."

He covered his surprise at her snap decision very well, she thought. "Very good, milady," he said, sketched a jerky bow, and left.

"Milady?" her comm crackled. "Yes, Armsman Hertz?"

"Your grandmother is here."

:Grandmama? Wait...: "-Which- grandmother, please, Hertz?"

In the background she heard a muffled "Which grandmother indeed..." Hertz's voice came through. "Your Grandmother Vorpinski, milady."

"Please conduct her to my rooms, then, Hertz."

"Yes, milady." He cut the comm.

Isolde had just settled herself into her small parlor after requesting coffee—Grandmama Vorpinski loved coffee—from Ma Yavenka when the Dowager Countess Valeska Tatiana Hendrika Vorpinski swept into the room.

"My dear child, you really shouldn't wear gray, it makes you look so washed out..." Countess Vorpinski was wearing black with dark green accents; still officially in mourning for the deaths of her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson, she was nonetheless impeccably dressed, as always. Her very white curly hair was swept up into bun on the back of her head with matching combs.

"Good morning, Grandmama Valeska." She accepted and gave a peck on the cheek. "I trust you are well?"

"Certainly, my dear." Ullya came with the coffee and what looked like coconut macaroons. "That is coffee, I hope?"

"Of course, Grandmama."

"Will you be needing anything else, milady, Countess?" Ullya asked.

"No, Ullya, thank you," Isolde dismissed her.

Ullya backed out the door with the smallest glance of great sympathy towards Isolde. :She's not that much of a Vor Dragon, really...:

"So, Isolde," Valeska began as Isolde poured her coffee. "Your Uncle Jean and Aunt Nadia and I are quite worried about you. While I understand your reasons for staying in Vorhalas house—" she poured cream into her coffee, "The Count being as ill as he is—we do wish you would visit more often."

"Grandmama, I could not possibly consider leaving the Count-my-great-uncle while he is so ill." Isolde put both cream and sugar into her cup. "It would be most improper. I am very reassuring to him, and keep him calm."

"I know, dearest, but...as precious as your father was to him, your mother was just as precious to us."

Isolde stared into her coffee, gently resting the cup in her lap. :I can't be Mama for you, Grandmother. I cannot be someone I am not. I cannot be your comfort and Uncle Vorhalas' and still take care of myself and the District. I wish I could. I know you miss her—so do I—but I cannot be your consolation prize. Nor do you need one.: She spoke, roughly, "There is much more at stake here, Grandmama, and while I do love you and Uncle Jean, my fear for what will happen when the Count dies is considerably greater."

Valeska's eyes narrowed as she sipped her coffee. She brought the cup down and stared into Isolde's eyes for a long moment. Abruptly she broke the contact and took another sip. "So I am informed."

"Pardon?"

"A very good friend—and very old—friend of mine informed me that you had notions towards the Vorhalas countship which could be quite controversial indeed. Ah-ta-ta," she said to the gape of Isolde's face. :My letter. How did they get a hold of my letter?!: "I have no intention of stopping you. Should you succeed I believe I would be quite proud. Jean, by the way, is very interested as well. However," she emphasized. "I do insist that you meet at least once with an acquaintance of mine. No excuses," she said to Isolde's half started protest. "She will be here tomorrow morning, early. And she will be of a great help to you, I'm sure."

"Now. Does your Uncle Vorhalas provide you with an allowance, or will -I- have to help you improve your wardrobe?"