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It starts, like everything else involving a Vorkosigan shouting at the Emperor, with a very blank-faced call from the Emperor's military secretary to inform Guy that the Emperor's schedule has been, to put it politely, hijacked by his relatives. And ImpSec is very much not welcome, possibly because when the Vorkosigans start shouting at the Emperor, it tends to be the sort of conversation where it would be extremely inconvenient to have someone around who is sworn to defend the Emperor against all threats.
Guy doesn't have any interest in being a witness to treason or sedition or whatever any of the Vorkosigans have decided is a good idea to start being blunt to the Emperor about, so he takes the cancellation of the morning security briefing with his usual acknowledgement and sends the written copy with Armsman Kevi to hand-deliver to the Emperor.
That it's Petya Vorkosigan being excessive at the Emperor is a minor detail in all of this. Or, at least, it is until Alexei Vortala is sitting across the briefing table from Guy following the weekly Domestic Affairs briefing a few hours later. Alexei stands up and stretches and then, taking a subtle look around the now-empty room, grins smugly.
"Is it too early to offer my congratulations?"
Alexei is being insufferably pleased with himself, so Guy won't give him the pleasure of asking him a damn thing. If it's that important, there will either be briefing materials waiting for him when he returns to his desk, or Petya will tell him tonight at dinner. "Yes," he answers curtly.
That's the wrong answer, it seems, because Alexei looks momentarily startled before he manages to get himself back under control. "I'd thought you were meeting with the Emperor this morning."
That isn't a question and Guy isn't interested in receiving an interrogation. Or running one. But if this is something that Alexei thought the Emperor was going to brief Guy on... this could be a problem.
This could be a huge problem.
His congratulations. No, this is probably already a huge problem. And Petya must know already. Guy curses quietly. So much for a nice, quiet evening at Vorkosigan House. And so much for probably any future nice, quiet evenings at Vorkosigan House.
"It was cancelled," Guy says. "A Vorkosigan destroyed his schedule."
Alexei is starting to look queasy. "I suppose he was giving Count Vorkosigan a chance to tell you himself. Sir, I apologize--"
"Oh, fuck it all," Guy says feelingly. "Just say it."
Alexei grimaces, but reluctantly begins. "The Emperor will announce tonight that, in the first post-Winterfair session, the Counts and Ministers will vote on new legitimacy laws to address legitimacy issues that have arisen from the widespread use of uterine replicators and other galactic reproductive technologies, with the focus being on bringing the Imperium to a definition of legitimacy that is compatible with galactics." Alexei hesitates again, but then continues firmly, "The Emperor voiced it in terms of making it easier for immigrants with uterine replicated children who would be bastards under our law, but, as you can imagine, sir, it's given rise to a lot of speculation. It's all over the Residence already that he's doing this for Count Vorkosigan. So," Alexei ventures, "he could father a legal heir."
And the day Petya sits still for that would be... probably why Guy's meeting was cancelled, very likely along with the rest of the Emperor's schedule for this morning, if not the entire day.
"Guy," Alexei continues carefully, "this is good news. Please don't actually strangle me."
"I don't kill messengers," Guy sighs. "Unfortunately. Please leave. But, so help me, Alexei, if I find out that there's some kind of Domestic Affairs betting pool on this, I will string your entire department up with ribbon and leave them for Father Frost."
Alexei gives him an actual formal salute and staggers out. Guy considers pulling the security feed, just so he can see what he looks like. Then he thinks better of it and heads back to his desk. His dinner invitation won't be cancelled, he knows that. Petya's going to want to tell him in person and as soon as possible. But if Guy's going to be heading into this, he's going to do it having already read all the briefings that have been piling up on what Lord Auditor Vorkosigan has been up to now. Because instead of just the normal Vorkosigan political dealings that Domestic Affairs normally swallows without choking, there's going to be much worse mixed in.
Damn Alexei anyway. Anything that's the Vorkosigans arranging the Emperor's political agenda is supposed to be highlighted for Guy's eyes first. And damn Gregor, too, because Guy can see where this subversion of the chain of command came from, and it couldn't have been Alexei's idea.
And, Guy fumes and everyone in his path scurries away, if the Emperor doesn't trust him with the briefings he's supposed to have, then the Emperor should replace him. The Emperor assured him to his face that his relationship with Petya would have no bearing whatsoever on his position as Chief of Imperial Security, and if the Emperor doesn't trust him to keep things a secret from Petya, or to know how to separate himself into pieces, then Guy's deputy is ready, willing, and able to take over at a moment's notice.
"I shouldn't be taking this so damn personally," Guy mutters to himself and settles down onto his chair with a heavy thud, and then he buries his face in his hands, groaning. Of course it's personal. It's the Emperor trying to do a favor for Petya. It's going to ruin Guy's life. Of course it's damn personal.
Guy wonders if Petya's started drinking yet.
---
It turns out that Petya has helpfully decided to leave the drinking until after he's spoken with Guy. Which Guy appreciates, because having this conversation is going to be terrible enough without adding anything further to it.
Petya doesn't meet him at the door. Instead, Armsman Pym says, sounding very much like he is trying to forget that he used to be ImpSec and was conditioned to respond to an enraged Chief of Imperial Security in a certain way, "Count Vorkosigan asks that you meet him upstairs."
Guy nods at him and then takes the steps two at a time. He hears slamming doors and giggles as he passes the second floor, the domain of Miles's children, and usually Guy would stop in and say hello and bring them a treat and see how they're doing, but this isn't the time for that.
Guy straightens his uniform before opening the door to Petya's private sitting room.
Well. At least Petya looks as terrible and wrecked as Guy does. Petya gives Guy an ironic look and he's probably thinking the same thing.
Petya's pacing the floor and still wearing full House uniform, so either he's just come from the Residence, or he'd decided to dress up to end things with Guy. "You've heard about it." Petya says flatly. Not a question. "I am sorry, Guy. I tried to say no. Gregor said, I'm doing you a favor. I said, then I decline it, sire. And then he tried to sell it to me as leading from the front as a true Vorkosigan should. The argument descended from there." Petya hesitates by the wine credenza, but then walks determinedly past it. "The Emperor," he continues, "is moving Barrayar forwards, and he requests and requires that the Councils pass his legislation to allow him to do so. And so we are going to redefine the entire concept behind being a bastard."
Guy is pretty sure Petya just, in his own backhand way, called the Emperor a bastard. The Chief of Imperial Security chooses to ignore that. There was very good reason the Emperor had made sure there weren't witnesses. Calling him a bastard was probably the least of it. And it's nothing that Guy hasn't thought since he'd found out.
"Gregor informs me, anyway, that it's my fault he's doing this," Petya says, growling harshly. "Because, he says, I have declined every favor he's offered me, he has to find a way to pay me back for my years of dedicated service. And since I wouldn't tell him what gift I wanted for my birthday, he is going to choose for me."
"Do you think you can get it to pass?" Guy asks.
Petya turns the corner on his pace and starts back the other way. "Very likely, shockingly enough. Miles did a lot of legwork on it. I don't know how long they've been plotting this. I don't think I want to know. It builds very strongly on everything else Miles has been doing with his biolaw legislation from the beginning. Like this is something that continues naturally from there and doesn't mean anything. Like it's an afterthought, as if they simply forgot, while making all this technology legal, to bend over backwards to turn legitimacy laws inside out."
Petya grimaces. "Of course no one is going to believe that, but it's a very good effort. You should have seen the size of those briefing materials; Miles said he'd covered every contingency, and who knows, maybe he did. It's certainly going to turn legitimacy laws into something unrecognizable. There's relatively little to be thrown to a Counts and Ministers committee, so it won't take a year the way the previous headache did. They can just shove it through as an addendum to that mess from three years ago and pretend that they just got around to tacking it on, and everyone can pretend to believe that if they'd like to. It's very sly of him. I could almost approve."
So much for the tiny hope that there's no way this could ever happen. "So it's--"
"Yes," Petya bites off. "And I don't know what Gregor is thinking, couching this as an Imperial order to his Counts and Ministers to pass something. Even if he weren't also going to be handing it to us to pretend like we are allowed to have any input. I really don't know what he's thinking. It's a major power grab. The isolationist fanatics are going to go home and start arming."
The isolationist fanatics are never not arming. And they don't, according to Guy's political briefings and everything Petya's been muttering about in his presence for years, think very highly of Miles Vorkosigan's biolaw agenda. And they're going to scream about anything having to do with inheritance. "I'll alert Vortala," Guy says dryly.
Petya smiles in bitter appreciation. "And damn him, too. He actually said, it could be worse, we could be Betans. They don't have any concept of legitimacy. I told him, yes, I'd noticed, Cordelia's pointed it out a few thousand times. Sometimes she'd even look pointedly at my grandfather while doing it." Petya rubs at his eyes. "Damn him," he mutters, and Guy's sure he's not talking about his grandfather or Alexei Vortala. "What makes him think this is a good idea?"
"Immigration, according to Vortala," Guy offers. "Probably some galactic propaganda, too."
"Yes," Petya sighs. "So I've heard. Repeatedly. I was at the Residence all day in meetings about this, and that was stressed repeatedly with many pointed looks. And occasionally pointed remarks. Miles tried to convince me that I'm in favor of this because it'll make diplomacy easier, reminded me that I was one the ones trying to get proles and mutants into diplomacy in the first place, and this just continues from there. And that, like everything else in his biolaw agenda, the law hasn't been updated since the Time of Isolation, so it needs to be changed. He has a point, but... he could have done this so many other ways, if that's what he wanted. And it doesn't matter if I like it or not, because Gregor's ordered me to make sure it gets passed. I told him that this doesn't seem much like an Imperial favor. He told me to stop fighting the noose. Well," he allows, "not in those words. But the intent was shockingly similar."
"You can't have a majority yet," Guy says. He can't do Council voting calculations in his head, but he does know ImpSec. It's one thing if Gregor and Miles were colluding over something or pulling in experts to consult slowly over years, especially if Gregor was being generous with Imperial orders against recording it or reporting it back up the chain of command. But if Lord Auditor Vorkosigan had been going around openly soliciting votes on this, Guy would have heard about it very quickly.
"Speculation," Petya waves it away. "Twenty guaranteed. Miles voiced concern about Vorhalas. I'm amazed he's still alive," Petya says, as an aside, "but he's not a hypocrite. He's an old conservative stodge like my grandfather, but he's never voted against galactic medicine. If he's still breathing by Winterfair, he'll cast the vote. And I can get him around on this."
Guy knows enough about Council votes to know that that shouldn't be something Petya could guarantee without even talking to the man, especially having only known about it for less than a day. "How?"
"Miles asked the same thing," Petya says, grimacing further at the memory. "So I told him about Carl Vorhalas and that his father will vote for this in his son's memory. And even if Vorhalas isn't breathing by then, Evon's son owes me enough favors."
Oh. Oh. "And how did the Lord Auditor take this news today?" Guy asks, insatiably curious. "Did he know?"
"No," Petya's pacing has taken him to a long couch at just the right height for the Lord Auditor. Petya grips the back of it hard. "But he's Miles," Petya dismisses. "He tells himself he shouldn't let it bother him and he does his best to make sure it doesn't. He showed surprise, nothing else."
Petya covers his eyes with his hand for a brief moment, then drops his hand and looks back towards Guy, after getting himself back under control. "I am sorry, General," he says, words clearly hurting him like a thrust of a dagger, and Guy rests his hand on the back of a chair.
"We both knew it had to end eventually," Guy says carefully.
"And we both know exactly what this would mean. Will mean." Petya blinks, as if momentarily surprised at himself. Then he clearly decides to ignore it. "How long do you think it'll be before...," he trails off, but Guy doesn't need for him to finish the sentence to know what he means.
"Probably already started," Guy says.
"You can't marry me," Petya says, and the look on his face is raw. "This is-- this isn't a surprise to anyone except the Emperor and my brother, it seems. They seem convinced that all they need to do is let me father a son and there will be no problems or difficulties at all."
"Hence the arguing at loud volume this morning," Guy says dryly.
Petya almost smiles. "Right, I'd forgotten. We completely destroyed Gregor's schedule. That was my fault, I'm afraid. I don't know how long Gregor decided to give me. However long it was, we went over. By a great deal. Gregor's an incurable romantic. I blame Cordelia, although my father probably bore some responsibility. His second marriage, after all, was a love match."
Guy winces at the raw pain in that last remark, but it's good that Petya trusts him that much, that they trust each other enough. Petya's notoriously good at talking around things. That hadn't changed at all in the two years since his father died and Petya succeeded to his titles. If anything, Petya had only gotten worse.
But he isn't cautious around Guy. It is a strange sort of compliment, but one Guy appreciates and understands well. Petya is one of the few people he can relax around, too.
"I told the Emperor," Petya says, biting his way through the title, "years ago, when he said that Miles had been seriously considered for your job, that he was an idiot and a political fool. He was letting his incurable romanticism blind him to the sheer political reality that there's a reason that even Ezar appointed a prole to that position. You do not put a Vor there, not with that kind of power, not with that much implied threat. And he was thinking of giving it to a Vorkosigan. What did he expect Miles to do if my father and I dropped dead the day after Miles took over? Was he then going to have Count Vorkosigan run Imperial Security? Madness. Sheer madness. Putting a Vorkosigan in charge of ImpSec? When there've been grumblings since the day after Yuri died about the Vorkosigans owning ImpSec? I can't think of anything more idiotic."
"I know what I've been called," Guy says. "I get the briefings." Negri was Ezar Vorbarra's familiar. Illyan was Aral Vorkosigan's dog. And lucky Guy Allegre is Piotr Vorkosigan's catamite.
Petya's right. They've both known that they were pushing the boundaries already; it can't go further. It can't. Not if ImpSec is to look impartial. Not if they're to remain at all effective among the High Vor, where it's absolutely vital that they appear to be serving the Emperor only, and not the Emperor's foster family.
It's already been too far. They were inching forward, daring someone to call it unacceptable. And now their bluff has been called. It can't go further.
Petya sighs and shakes his head. "And now this. He looked at me and said, actually said, that he thought I wouldn't take it well, but I would come around and see that it was entirely in my best interest. He said he assumed my objections to it would be due to my desire to keep as many things private as possible and live as little a public life as can reasonably be managed. He said he didn't expect me to hate it on grounds that, as far as I was concerned, it would ruin my life."
Guy sucks in a breath. Then he exhales. "Petya, you are engaging in melodrama," he says carefully.
"I spent hours locked in a conference room with Miles," Petya answers. "I'm entitled, dammit. But I'm not wrong. Guy, you-- I-- we both know it has to end here. We both know it can go no further. You can't be the Chief of Imperial Security and married to me, or raise children with me. And everyone will know that this is entirely about me, no matter what Gregor says in the public arena. I'm too well-known. This will be a nightmare. Best get it over and done with, I suppose, get it passed and then other people can exercise their new rights to have bastards as much as they please. I don't care. But we both know, this has to be it for us."
Guy nods slowly. "I was just coming here to tell you that," he says. "You're right. We're both well-aware of the realities of the situation. I think I like it less than you," Petya looks very disbelieving at this, and Guy continues, "Vortala was positively smirking at me today, and tried to offer his congratulations. Are all Vor out of their minds?"
"Yes," Petya says, clipped. "All of us. Every single one. And," he continues, breathing harshly "in three months, we'll have a vote and it'll pass. Miles shoving it through committees is a formality. There are barely any details left on this, it's just up to both Councils to pass it. On Imperial order. Gregor's not playing games with this, he's damn serious. Although how he plans to enforce that remains to be seen; he really can't just order us to vote a certain way. It took enough wars, but that's settled by now. Of course, he can make it difficult. And he says he's going to make it clear that if his Counts or Ministers want to change anything, they are welcome to join the committee process. But otherwise, he will expect their vote. This is going to be a nightmare."
Petya settles down hard onto a couch and stares up at Guy. He swallows hard. "I don't-- I can't-- I won't pretend that this is something I want to do, Guy, but we both know. We can't continue as we are."
Guy settles down on the couch next to Petya and puts his hand on Petya's knee. "I know," he says. "I know."
---
And that's how it ends. The Chief of Imperial Security courting the Emperor's foster-brother, a ruling Count in his own right, had certain inherent conflicts of interest. The Chief of Imperial Security no longer courting the Emperor's foster-brother, a ruling Count in his own right, has its own conflicts of interest.
They don't announce the end of their relationship. And what with the Emperor taking personal interest in this legislation, they know they'll very likely being seeing each other every day. Telling people they aren't courting anymore seems pointless. They barely told anyone they were courting to begin with.
It does get out eventually. It hits the higher levels of ImpSec almost immediately, of course, but the lower levels find out when Guy's guards inevitably gossip about how Guy doesn't go to Vorkosigan House for private dinners or spend nights there anymore. Guy tells his family himself, and Petya tells his family himself, but that's as far as they go in spreading it around.
The only gossip that anyone dares say to Guy's face is Ivan Vorpatril wondering if it might damage the vote.
"No offense, General," Vorpatril says, "but we're selling this almost entirely on the fact that either people like Petya, or they hate Petya but would prefer to have Petya's illegitimate son as the next Count Vorkosigan and not Mutie Miles. But no matter how you look at it, this is all about Petya and everyone knows it. If Petya isn't seen as having such a huge personal stake in it, it might be harder for the Counts to convince themselves that they're trading this vote in for all the political favors they otherwise owe Petya. I mean, this entire vote is pretty much people paying Petya back for the years and years of political favors he's done them. It's blatantly Vor nepotism at work. And it's not going to work if it can't be seen as blatant Vor nepotism and the Counts actually stop and think about what they're voting on. If this stops being a personal favor to Petya and starts being weighed on its own merits, it's doomed."
"I don't play politics," Guy says. He gives Vorpatril a disgusted look and walks away.
---
Security arrangements for getting the Emperor to Vorhartung Castle are well-practiced and almost second nature. Guy arrives early and surveys the security perimeter before calling in an all-clear to the Residence. He spreads his agents carefully among the gallery, giving them their orders, and then hurries to the Emperor's private office to brief him when he arrives.
They are only a few minutes into the briefing when they hear the sound of a nerve disruptor.
Guy is the closest to the Emperor, but there are four ImpSec guards and two Vorbarra armsmen in the room, so there's no need to deviate from the drilled routine. Guy leaves covering the Emperor to his guardsmen and keys his comm instead. He has three streams coming into his ears, but sorting out all the different inputs is second nature, and he's relieved all over again for all the training and the drills when the first reports come in and he hears the name of the target.
Count Vorkosigan.
"Status report," the Emperor orders when Guy turns to face him.
Guy is half-listening, half-processing, and has managed to get his voice under control before he has to open his mouth and say, "someone just shot at Count Vorkosigan."
The Emperor flinches. "Casualties," he demands.
"Unclear at the moment, sire," Guy says. He listens to the primary comm for a moment. He's broadcasting on that one, his voice overriding all others, and he's answered immediately. "Minor injuries, no deaths," he repeats, and the Emperor loosens his grip on his desk. "The assailant has been stunned. Broken arm," he reports, and then clarifies along with the apologetic captain on the comm, "the assailant's, sire, broken by Count Vorkosigan's protection detail in subduing him. Count Vorkosigan has superficial injuries from being pushed to the ground."
"Someone get me on the damned comm," Guy hears over the secondary line and it's an indescribable relief to hear that voice. Petya sounds incensed and out of breath and Guy has never wanted to touch him more in his life, just grab him and hold on and never let go. "Give it here, good. Who's on this?"
"Secondary line, my lord," Alexei answers. There's a slight echo, voice coming from two comms at once. He must be standing next to Petya. Guy feels another surge of relief beneath the panic. Alexei, he can trust. Alexei would walk through plasma fire for Petya. "All agents in Vorhartung Castle can hear it and you're piped into ImpSec Headquarters as well."
"Great," Petya says. "Someone tell the Emperor to breathe. I'm perfectly fine and capable of walking."
The Emperor is staring at Guy, eyes expressionless, and Guy says, "Count Vorkosigan has checked in, sire. He says his status is fine and he is capable of walking."
"Get him in here," the Emperor orders.
Guy is about to relay that over the comm when Petya says, "General, you didn't tell him to breathe. I don't care that I can't hear you. I know you didn't."
Getting shot at must make Petya insane. Guy can't bring himself to care right now, but he's careful not to catch the eye of any of his agents. The rumors about him and Petya don't need to be worse than they already are. "Sire, Count Vorkosigan would like you to know that he advises you to breathe."
"I'll bet he does," the Emperor grumbles.
"We're bringing him in," Alexei reports over the primary line. "Emergency protocol alpha."
"Full check on the Counts and Ministers," Guy orders across all frequencies. "And location on Lord Auditor Vorkosigan."
"Miles should be in the gallery," Petya answers. "Is he on comms, too?"
The security screener pings in Guy's ear. "Entered and moving towards your position, sir," Alexei reports on the tertiary, command, line. "Please open the door. Count Vorkosigan is on a war path."
Guy looks to the Vorbarra armsmen. "This room is secure. Open the door." They do so silently. Guy takes up a stance in the doorway in case they're about to be bowled over by someone other than a pissed off High Vor aristocrat. Not that pissed off High Vor aristocrats aren't inherently dangerous.
"We have identified the assailant," Alexei reports across all frequencies. He must be getting reports in from the chatter line.
"Who was it?" Guy hears Petya demand over the comm and down the hall at the same time.
"Adam Vorcarye," says Alexei, as they come around the corner in time for Guy to see Petya's reaction.
"Who?" he asks, confused.
Armsman Pym comes around the corner after them at a run, clearly trying to catch up. He must have been delayed at the security check, but Guy gives him a studied glance just to make sure. Pym's holsters are empty. Guy is sure that must be a physical pain for him right now, that his Count was just shot at and he isn't allowed to be armed, but it's a relief for Guy to see that the security men aren't taking anyone's loyalty for granted today. And Pym, Guy remembers from his security file, had been on Vorhartung security before joining the Vorkosigan score; he would know all the ways around the building and how to make sure being unarmed didn't mean being at a disadvantage.
"A minor official in Dorca's Port," Alexei elaborates, echoing more words coming from the tertiary line.
"Vorbretten's liegeman?" Petya asks, surprised. "This wasn't Count's treason, then."
"We will be detaining Count Vorbretten until he can be cleared of any involvement or prior knowledge, my lord," Guy informs him. Petya gives him the look that has always meant I understand what you're saying, but even I hypocritically think you should take your security concerns and shove them up your ass. Guy ignores it in favor of paying attention to the dried blood dirtying Petya's face.
The Emperor pushes past Guy and grabs Petya up into his arms and stares at him, unseeing. Then he takes a deep breath, low in his chest.
"I told you," Petya says gently. "Things are better when you remember that the human body requires oxygen to function."
"So you tell me," the Emperor murmurs. "And yet I remain unconvinced."
"I'm fine, Gregor," Petya says. Then, much quieter, he continues, "I know it was loud and I wasn't there, but I wasn't hurt."
Guy has never felt so much like an intruder in his life when he sees the look in the Emperor's eyes.
The Emperor nods and says, "I'll delay the vote."
"No," Petya growls. "No, Gregor. The vote will happen. I have given up too much for this to let it be delayed." He looks to Guy. "Is everyone here?"
"Everyone but Count Vorfolse," Guy says.
"Good enough, we need a quorum, not unanimity. The vote will go ahead," Petya says.
Petya doesn't give direct orders to the Chief of Imperial Security. Guy looks to the Emperor, who nods and says, "Okay, Petya. But the gallery will be cleared."
Petya bows in unashamedly ironic thanks. Guy gives the order into the comm and hears it repeated across the building.
There's a minor commotion outside and Alexei gives Guy a low signal. Guy nods and Alexei slips out of the room as the Lord Guardian enters. Alexei breaks off into a run as soon as he clears the door and Guy hears the sound of his thudding boots echoing down the hallway.
"We have the quorum, sire," the Lord Guardian formally reports. "Your Councils await your presence."
Petya puts his hand on the Emperor's arm. "It's your bill, Gregor. Vote for it," he orders. "And once you get it passed, then you can destroy my coalition by arresting Rene Vorbretten."
The Emperor gives Petya a fond smile, and then nods to the Lord Guardian. Petya getting shot at doesn't give him the right to undermine the Emperor in front of witness any more than it gives him the right to undermine Guy, but if the Emperor isn't objecting, then it's not for Guy to do it for him. "Let the Counts and Ministers know that I will call them to their vote in ten minutes. If that is enough time," he says to Petya.
Guy gets a sense of what the Emperor is asking when Petya turns to him and orders, "A word, General," very, very dangerously.
Guy gives the Emperor a panicked look, then nods and switches off his comm microphone. But any shouting about security failures that he might have been anticipating doesn't happen. Instead, Petya grabs him as soon as they're in semi-privacy and kisses him hard, pushing him up against the wall, forcing his thigh between Guy's legs to pin him more effectively. Guy meets him eagerly half-way.
From down the hall, he can faintly hear Ivan Vorpatril saying, "so when they let it be known they weren't fucking anymore, they were just fucking with us. That's good to know."
But that's nowhere near important right now, with Petya desperate against him, kissing his way down Guy's neck and then back up again, and his hands holding on to Guy like he'll vanish if he lets go, and it's only Guy's grip on Petya's tunic that's keeping him from yanking Petya's clothes off so he can make sure for himself that Petya's okay and he's not going anywhere, and this was just a scare, and it's over, and Petya's growling against Guy, and Guy matches him desperately.
"I have had enough," Petya whispers harshly against Guy's jaw, all teeth and lips and anger, "of this stupid, bloody city and people trying to kill me. Enough," Petya repeats low and hard against Guy's skin and Guy can feel it reverberating and he agrees completely. "I have had too much, it's enough. I am done."
"Oh fuck yes," Guy whimpers against him and then grabs him again as Petya tries to find a different angle, because Petya is not going any damn where, and Guy ignores all the status checks going on over the comm as Alexei readies the chamber so he can order the doors barred.
"Enough," Petya promises. "I am done." And he twists in Guy's grip and Guy lets it break and lets Petya pull back and Petya is grinning at him like a maniac, all teeth and menace, and Guy has to pull him back because they are not stopping, no, they are not, and he does not care what is coming through his comm earpiece, because Petya just got shot at and he's still here and what were they thinking, stopping, they never should have stopped, this is too damn important, too necessary, too vital, they can't stop now.
Petya breaks back and rests his head against Guy's shoulder for a moment, panting, and Guy rests his hand on the back of Petya's neck and holds him in place. "I'm done giving up what I want for the sake of what they think, before they then turn around and try to kill me," Petya whispers desperately. "I am through. I've given them everything, I refuse to give them anything more. This is enough. I'm not playing their Vor games anymore. I am done."
Not just you, Guy thinks, and files the thought away for later.
"Ten minutes," Petya says mournfully, still a little out of breath, against Guy's neck, and then he laughs shortly and taps the inside of Guy's wrist twice, signaling him to break his grip and let him go. "Finish this later? Please?"
"Try and stop me," Guy tells him and Petya grins at him, but nicer this time, full of promise.
Alexei makes a very nervous sound over the comm and Guy switches his microphone back on. "What?"
"Count Vorkosigan's presence is required before the vote can be called," Alexei says, like he is being very, very clear that he has absolutely no idea what Guy and Count Vorkosigan were just doing and no one else has any idea either. And that Guy's never going to live this down.
Guy flicks at his microphone. "Are you finished adding more fuel to the rumors about us?" he asks Petya.
Petya laughs and then finishes smoothing his House uniform back into place. "Yes, sir, General Allegre, sir."
"Giving the Emperor direct orders," Guy grumbles under his breath, "I don't know what you're thinking," and then he hits the microphone again. "Count Vorkosigan is on his way."
"Yes, sir," Alexei says, and Guy turns his microphone off again.
Guy and Petya manage to keep their hands off each other as they start back towards the chamber, which Guy thinks is, overall, a demonstration of major restraint. Miles Vorkosigan meets them by the first turn of the hall.
"Oh, look," Miles says. "It's the triumph of love over cynicism."
"Why aren't you locked in a safe room somewhere?" Petya asks him.
Miles shrugs. "I'm not the one who got shot at. I get free range, I'm just not allowed in the chamber while the vote is in progress because Gregor isn't allowing anyone in if they can't cast a vote."
"Here," Petya says. "You're my deputy. Go cast my vote."
"Sorry," Miles says unrepentantly. "That has to be filed in writing before Gregor takes the dais."
"I can find the rest of the way myself," Petya tells Guy, and then he grabs Miles by the arm and drags him down the hallway to the Counts entrance, telling him something very sternly in an undertone. Miles gives Guy a very dangerous look over his shoulder, and then gives him an even sunnier smile to make up for it.
Guy, for a brief moment, rues the day he ever met a Vorkosigan. Then he ducks through a few security measures and checks in with Alexei by the guardsman's door to the chamber.
"Gregor says you're relieved of duty for the day as soon as the vote's over, and he'd like you to take a three-day leave, too," Alexei reports.
"Not going to let me anywhere near that interrogation, are you?" Guy asks.
"You can watch the recording," Alexei says kindly. "Ask your physician to give you a sedative first, though. You'll probably need it."
"What's the preliminary round giving us?" Guy asks.
Alexei shakes his head. "Three-day leave, and then you can pretend this isn't personal. Don't argue. I'm also not allowed near the interrogation."
Guy grumbles at him, but doesn't argue the point. He wouldn't allow himself or Alexei near the interrogation either.
"What's the vote tally?" Miles Vorkosigan asks cheerfully behind him. He slips in between Guy and Alexei and leans his head through the door, peering around the room.
Alexei gives him the running total and they exchange Vorish commentary on the proceedings. Guy doesn't care about the vote; he has direct line of sight from here to the Emperor and to Petya, and if he spends more time staring at Petya than making sure no one tries to rush the Emperor, no one has to know.
The vote goes very quickly; apparently the Emperor is not in the mood for any delays. Guy knows when the vote reaches the magic number to pass when Petya settles back against his chair, suddenly exhausted. It winds down five minutes later and Alexei claps Guy on the shoulder and says, "congratulations," and then brushes passed him into the chamber to politely detain Count Vorbretten before Guy can open his mouth to argue.
---
And they find themselves, three hours later, back where it started, in Petya's quarters in Vorkosigan House, and Guy has a glass of good wine in his hand and a tray of desserts in front of him.
Guy settles down on the couch next to Petya. Petya rests his hand on Guy's thigh.
"Has my brother been bothering you?" he asks.
"He seems to have ambitions of being a baba," Guy says, shuddering a little at the memory. "Currently it's amusing. I would appreciate it if you could get him to stop before it becomes less than amusing."
"Mm," Petya says. "I'll do my best." He yawns. "Come to bed with me?" Guy hesitates, wondering for a moment how it would look if he doesn't return to his apartment tonight and wondering if, after all this, he still is supposed to care, and then Petya continues, "I want to steal your honor, General Allegre. I don't require anything in return."
Guy nods. In the morning, they'll have to discuss this. In the morning, they will have to talk this over and come to some kind of conclusion. But for right now... Guy is off-duty and Petya's bed is very comfortable.
That will do, for now.
---
Eleven years ago, Guy remembers, he'd gone to brief the Emperor as the provisional head of Imperial Security and left as Illyan's confirmed replacement. And he'd taken two data chips with him when he'd gone to report. One of them had been given to the Emperor, but the second one, his prepared resignation, had stayed in his pocket the entire time. It rode in his pocket throughout that hectic day and then migrated to the safe in his office and, some months later, Guy had taken it out, wiped the chip clean using ImpSec's most effective methods, and that had been that.
If it had been asked of him, if the Emperor had made it a choice, Guy would have resigned and not looked back. Because, no matter what Petya seems to think, Guy wouldn't have regretted it. No one gets to be a department head in ImpSec without some sense of ambition, but Guy had never had grand career plans and he had never expected or approved of the way his career had swallowed everything in its path without him even noticing until it was already done.
And he'd never liked the way he'd suddenly turned around and realized he'd lost any chance he might ever have had of having a relationship. A real one, where you could actually be allowed to tell your partner anything about your day, or talk freely about what was bothering you. He hadn't liked it, but he'd gone along with it, because there hadn't been anything he was sacrificing for it. It wasn't sacrifice if it was only theoretical.
And then Petya had taken him by the hand and made him an offer and opened his heart to him.
And if it had been asked, that sacrifice, one or the other, then it wouldn't have been a choice. If the Emperor had drawn a line, with Guy standing before him with the morning security briefing, Guy would have handed him his resignation and not regretted it. Because there are some things he wasn't going to give to ImpSec, and that was one of them. He had sworn his obedience, his sword, his honor, and his life to the Emperor. He had never sworn to be celibate.
Petya would have given him hell for resigning, but there are other men on the planet, if Petya had decided that Guy wasn't allowed to make any sacrifices for his own happiness and decided to sulk over it. But the Vor don't understand the concept of retirement, so that's not the point.
Petya's sleeping now. Guy wonders if he's going to forgive him for this.
Guy doesn't have any doubts left. After the last few months and staring the choice in the face every day, he knows what he wants. Because it's still a choice between Petya and ImpSec. And that choice was made a long time ago.
But, no, that's not entirely true. It's a choice between a chance at a relationship and the certainty of continuing the daily reality of ImpSec. That the relationship is with Petya, if Petya's still interested, and all evidence suggests that he still is and very much so, is just one of the details.
They've been at this dance for more than a decade now since Illyan took his medical retirement. And it hasn't been only a holding pattern, because that would have fallen apart long ago, but it's been as far as it could go for years now between a Count and the Chief of Imperial Security. And they've gone further than they should. They'd run up against the wall when the Emperor decided to do Petya a favor, because that's only a favor for Petya alone or for Petya with a man whose political reality allows for them to have a public relationship. And that man isn't the Chief of Imperial Security.
Count Vorkosigan could never have the Chief of Imperial Security as anything other than a colleague or a friend. And the Chief of Imperial Security is tied to a desk in headquarters and barely sees the outside of the building. The Chief of Imperial Security has direct, private contact almost daily with the Emperor, so any relationship he conducts needs to be vetted by security first. The Chief of Imperial Security's circumstances aren't conducive to long term relationships, and that's never going to change.
The last eleven years have just been him and Petya fooling themselves that they could cheat and get away with this. They can't. It's too much.
And Guy can have ImpSec, or he can have a relationship he can talk about without worrying that it might be dragged out as a scandal on the floor of Vorhartung Castle. That's the choice.
Guy chose ImpSec when he was a cadet and he has, he realizes, spent his entire life since then constantly choosing ImpSec. It swallowed his life a very long time ago. If he's going to get it back, he can't keep choosing ImpSec.
This has to end somewhere. Guy decides: it's ending here.
ImpSec doesn't have any major crises right now, and the dozen or so minor ones are being well-handled by their respective departments. And Domestic Affairs can handle someone shooting at a Count better than Guy can, he thinks ruefully, staring at Petya sleeping. Domestic Affairs agents arrested the suspect and followed regulation exactly; Guy decided that almost fucking Count Vorkosigan up against a wall in public was a great idea.
There's nothing tying Guy to his desk now more than there usually would be. If there's a safe time, it's now.
It's going to be now, he decides.
Petya's always been absurdly over-concerned about Guy's career, but it's still true that there are more men on this planet. If Petya can't handle Guy making this choice, if Petya decides that this is some kind of sacrifice for him instead of Guy making a sane and sensible decision that it's time for him to retire, then that's okay. They've spent the last few months not being in a relationship. If Petya decides he doesn't want him back after all, it's okay. It is. It would be.
I want this, Guy thinks. I want this.
A chance to retire, a chance to see what life is like out of uniform, a chance to go off duty for longer than hours at a time. A chance to be allowed to see what happens if he settles down with someone he loves, a chance for his choice of partners to not be a political quagmire or something someone in Domestic Affairs is going to have to analyze to make sure the security risks aren't too great.
He's probably never going to be without a security protection detail of his own, but it wouldn't be a squad following him around everywhere. Maybe his family will stop freezing up when they see ImpSec descend. Maybe some of them will even stop being scared of him.
I want this to stop, Guy thinks. After this long, Petya's right, it's over. He's done. He's given his life to ImpSec; it's about time they gave it back to him.
Guy settles back behind Petya's secured comconsole and begins the letter.
---
When the Emperor said three-day leave, he seems to have meant it. Guy is kept waiting in the antechamber for a full ten minutes before being shown in.
"General Markouizos gave me a very thorough briefing this morning," Gregor says, sitting on the edge of his desk. Message received: this isn't a formal meeting with his Emperor. As far as Gregor's concerned, Guy's just stopped by for a chat because he's in the mood to shove himself into Gregor's schedule.
Guy bows anyway. "Sire."
Gregor looks him over and then stands up. "What is it, Guy?"
Guy takes a deep breath and then reaches into his pocket. He offers the chip to Gregor, who doesn't take it. "My resignation, sire."
Gregor's lips thin. "I don't blame you for someone managing to break through your security cordon and shoot at Petya. And he doesn't, either. This isn't necessary."
"Yes, it is, sire," Guy says.
"Why the hell should I accept this?" Gregor asks sharply.
"Because Illyan did us a disservice," Guy starts, listing the reasons he's already put in the resignation. "We need regular, peaceful, ordinary transitions at the top or we'll never figure out how to do it properly. Because this is a good time for it. Because I've spent a decade riding herd on ImpSec and that's long enough for no one to call it a scandalously short time. Because--"
"Did Petya ask you to do this?" Gregor interrupts.
"He doesn't know I'm doing this," Guy says. Gregor looks skeptical and Guy admits, "I plan to tell him after you had accepted it."
Gregor looks momentarily amused. "Cowardice, Guy?"
"Prudence," Guy admits. "I didn't want to argue about this with him. A fait accompli is easier. And his opinion on this matter was... not required."
"I think he might need to know, if you're planning on sacrificing your career for him," Gregor says.
Guy grimaces. "Not for him, sire. For me. It's enough already. It's time. I've had a decade at the top and I'm a twice-twenty-years man. This isn't premature, sire. The man who held Komarran Affairs before me lived only two years into his retirement, and I don't want that. It's-- it's time, sire."
Gregor settles down behind his desk and rests his chin in his palm. "Convince me," he offers.
Guy places the chip on the Emperor's desk and begins his prepared speech.
---
Guy enters Vorkosigan House through the back gate and climbs the green back staircase to the fourth floor. Petya meets him at the open door at the end of the stairs, looking puzzled.
"Guy?" he asks.
"I've told Gregor that I intend to retire," Guy says.
Petya looks stunned. Guy brushes past him, turning the corner into the North Wing and heading to Petya's private suite. He goes directly to Petya's private sitting room and settles down on the far couch with a sigh. Exhaustion has caught up with him. But he doesn't regret it. Not a word of it.
Petya's followed him in, still looking lost. "You... retired?" Petya asks.
"When he's decided on my replacement, yes. It should be soon. Markouizos could do it tomorrow, if he had to."
"So I've destroyed your career at last," Petya sighs. He leans heavily against the back of the chair opposite Guy. "Dammit."
"You seem to care more about my career than I do," Guy says. "Why is that? Is it because I was allowed an ImpSec career? I hope you don't consider that to mean I'm not allowed to choose to leave it all behind."
"Not, but--"
"It won't be immediate, but I've done it," Guy interrupts him. This isn't something Petya can argue him out of. "I've resigned." And if Petya really insists on it, Guy can give him the same speech he gave the Emperor.
Petya hesitates, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to think of what to say. "I hope... is this what you want, Guy? For yourself, in your own life? To take retirement and... be retired?"
"You Vor lords don't understand the concept, do you?" Guy asks kindly. "Yes, Petya. Retiring."
Petya frowns at him. "And this is what you want?"
"There's no obligation on you," Guy tells him, exasperated.
"No." Petya lunges forward quickly and grabs him by the arm before he can say anything else. "This is what you want? It's not something you're doing because you think it's... the last thing I want is to frame this as a choice between me and ImpSec, Guy. Because it's not. We can continue as before. You don't have to--"
"I want to--"
"Oh, thank you," Petya breathes.
Guy smirks. "Still wish you could keep me?"
"Can I?" Petya asks. "No, wait, that came out wrong, I...," he stands up from his crouch and looks around. "This is all coming out terribly wrong."
"So try again," Guy says, "my lord diplomat."
Petya bites his bottom lip again. "I don't have precedent," he starts haltingly. "Anything at all, anything to tell me how... I don't know what I'm saying, Guy."
Guy contemplates saying it for him, but he rarely gets to see Petya completely at a loss for words, so he's going to savor this for a moment longer before he kisses Petya until he gets the point, that this is marriage, they can do that, and then drag Petya back to bed. He's on leave until his retirement is official and Petya just got shot at. They can do that. They can spend the rest of the day in bed if they'd like.
"You-- you must know how terrifying that is for me. I-- both my grandfather's betrothal and my father's, they were highly-negotiated affairs, all done in the right and proper manner. So-- I don't know what I'm doing," Petya confesses, studying Guy's face carefully.
"It sounds to me like you're proposing," Guy says gently.
"I am." Petya says, finally sounding sure about something. "I-- I love you very much, Guy Allegre. You make my life better, and happier, for being in it, and I hope very much that I return the sentiment--"
"You do," Guy interrupts.
"And so," Petya soldiers on, and he takes a deep breath, "And I don't know how to ask this, to be honest. The Old Vor way is to ask... but, right now, at this point in my life, I don't care about that. I want to ignore it entirely. Because it has no hold on me right now, not with this, not with you. My grandfather had to find his Countess, my father had to find a Lady Vorkosigan. I found you. And I don't want to try to make you into something you're not, or try to change you into something that fits into the Old Vor mold. And I'm not asking you... what I am asking you, to switch priorities is... I want us to be married and to be happy together. If you would consent to marry me, Guy Allegre, I would be the most honored man on Barrayar."
And before Guy can open his mouth to say anything, to let Petya know that of course he would, you idiot, what do you think he's doing in this relationship if he wasn't serious, Petya babbles on more.
"I-- Gregor knows. I asked him permission, before, even. No, I didn't. He gave it to me. That was a sticking point. He told me, flat-out, very Imperially, that my liege-lord was giving me his official consent to marry, so I should stop pretending this was anything scandalous, because if the Emperor endorses it, it is the Emperor's will. And, well. I told him to stop being a bloody naive fool. He found that funny, for some reason. But... that wasn't just a formality. I have his permission. He does approve."
"Shut up," Guy orders him fondly, standing up. "Clearly you aren't going to get around to actually asking me a question, instead of just talking at me, so..." He puts his hands on Petya's shoulders. "Unless you object, I'm going to just call us betrothed."
"You could actually call us married," Petya starts saying before his mouth catches up with his brain. "No, no, we're having a wedding. I didn't mean that, I'm not ashamed, nothing like that, never--"
"Bring in two witnesses," Guy says, "and we can announce our marriage. Right now. I'm not letting you talk yourself out of this, Petya."
"I--"
"Oh, fuck it," Guy says and kisses Petya, holding on tight. "Marry me, you Vor idiot," he whispers.
Petya smiles against Guy's lips. "Yes."