It's probably a good thing that Miles's broken leg automatically disqualifies him for pacing, because he'd probably have tried to stand up anyway and fallen. The maple mead is starting to dull the pain that's kicked up, though, which is convenient, seeing as he didn't arrive with any of his painkillers.

Miles smiles bleakly. "Bet you're going to think I'm even more insane." Because between two Miles Vorkosigans, it obviously has to be a contest. He picks up his cup again and takes another sip before leaning back in his chair, tipping his head back. He stares contemplatively at the ceiling.

"I've...done this before. Coming to a strange place with a crowd of equally strange people, all of them displaced from their own worlds, different worlds. Only last time, it wasn't on Barrayar."