Hah. What a thought. Piotr Vorkosigan was considered progressive in this time period. He supposes that anyone who advocated a style of warfare more elegant than "smash heads in with rocks" is comparatively forward-thinking, yes...Still, that's an interesting tidbit. Somehow he'd forgotten that the old Countess Vorkosigan had been part Betan. That's right - Miles Vorkosigan's more Betan than Barrayaran, isn't he? In retrospect, that makes his constant More-Vor-Than-Thou routine even more obnoxious.

But: there are forms much lovelier than that hyperactive dwarf's to contemplate right now. "Well. And a marvelous job you're doing. They should give you a raise." He turns his hand around to capture hers and sweeps an exaggerated bow over it, pressing an admirably chaste kiss to the back of the wool. Miracle of miracles: she seems to be the one person in camp who doesn't stink. "I know my spirits are lifted, Lady...?"