veryvorkosigan (
veryvorkosigan) wrote2014-01-01 08:45 pm
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Winterfair
Vorkosigan House is astir this evening: the children are getting their own carefully supervised Winterfair party in the nursery wing, and the adults making ready to head to the Imperial Residence for the Emperor's party.
In the Dowager Countess's suite, there's one extra guest making ready.
In the Dowager Countess's suite, there's one extra guest making ready.
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"Hey," he calls out to Cordelia, fiddling with a handful of shiny metal, enamel, and ribbons. "Want to tell me if I got all my chest candy on straight?"
He's wearing a Preventer dress uniform, which has a high collar (no tie, score), and a good haul of medals already pinned on it. Duo has been busy.
His boots are shiny, his braid is smooth. He's also got a carefully shined leather thigh sheath, and one of his better knives. This is a formal event, after all.
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The snort goes oddly with her extremely formal attire -- floor-length dark green velvet with a train, embroidered with silver, accented with silvery-gray flowers and dark green leaves in her elaborate coiffure.
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He leaves off fiddling with the last medal and bows neatly to her (Japanese style) before offering her an arm.
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The great entry hall of Vorkosigan House is floored in an elaborate mosaic of plants and flowers rendered in colored stone, startlingly fine-detailed. Like a cluster of larger flowers in their richly hued formal wear, the rest of the Vorkosigan party -- Count, Countess, and Armsmen -- stands at the bottom of the sweeping stairway, waiting for the Dowager Countess and her guest.
Apparently everybody's been briefed on what to expect. The Count's reaction as they come into view is limited to a millimeter's worth of raised eyebrow, and the Countess only smiles.
"Captain Duo Maxwell," Cordelia says by way of introduction, as they near the bottom of the stairs, "my son and daughter-in-law, Count Miles and Countess Ekaterin Vorkosigan."
Count Miles may be something of a startlement to Duo; he's just under five feet tall, with a slightly oversized head that would look more proportionate on a man over six feet. His face is faintly lined, somehow without looking in any way old -- especially in light of his smile. "A pleasure to meet you, Captain. Any friend of my mother's is welcome here."
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His bright grin, however, remains the same. "Your home is beautiful!"
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"Ekaterin designed the floor mosaic," Cordelia explains to Duo as the party starts heading for the doors.
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"I'm afraid I'm an uncultured boor," he says sadly to Cordelia. "Though I did warn you."
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The party appears to be dividing into two cars; the Count and Countess and two of the brown-liveried Armsmen in the first, and Cordelia and Duo in the second. (Along with an Armsman, but he takes his seat in front with the driver.)
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Heh. If Relena could see him now.
He spends most of the trip staring out at the city in fascination. A city on another planet. In another system entirely. They've barely started on Mars.
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Cordelia points out a few items of interest: a medical complex ("very new, very well-staffed, almost up to galactic standard"), a sprawling university campus ("where Ekaterin got her advanced degree"), a few distant picturesque castles picked out in colored floodlights.
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"Thanks," he says to her. "For inviting me, I mean. This is amazing."
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"Don't think so. Elbow me if I'm using the wrong fork or something?"
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He fiddles with one of his jacket cuffs.
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The vast stone pile of the Imperial Residence is looming up ahead of them, with more colored lights accenting architectural details here and there; before too long (albeit after a decidedly professional security scan), they're disembarking and being escorted in from the chilly night.
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They assure him the spray they use won't have any negative effect on the finish of his knife or sheath, and they can apply the solvent on their way out.
Good enough for him, he doesn't expect to need to use it. And if he does, he can get creative.
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The Vorkosigan party is ushered into a long reception hall, lined with mirrors on one side and tall windows on the other. A multicolored array of House uniforms and formal gowns makes the floor look like another resplendent garden-mosaic -- this one in motion.
A major-domo announces the four members of their party, by name and title, in an amplified voice.
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"Looks like your Emperor really knows how to throw a party."
Or a few dozen people who work for him, anyway.
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