video; un: eproghuefgdzptrrw

[vorrutyer]

[ Byerly Vorrutyer is sitting in front of a piano, fingers on the keys. Byerly Vorrutyer is also, apparently, drunk. There's a bottle of brandy in front of him balanced beside the music rack that's two-thirds drained, and there's a tiny sway in his posture, and he looks sloppy - suit coat opened, shirt-collar loosened. When he speaks, his voice slurs. But as he talks, he plays Chopin beautifully, expressively. He only misses the very occasional note. ]

God help me, but this place is dull. And I know from dull. I spent an entire season - an entire season! - on the Vorinnis estate on the South Continent. If Lady Vorinnis hadn't been there to distract me with all her deliciousness, I'd have actually, literally, died of boredom. I nearly set fire to the whole taiga. Roasted all the little birdies and rabbits and peasants. Pheasants. Peasants. Whichever.

[ He sighs mournfully, casting a sorrowful glance at the camera. ]

Say, fellows, how does a man have fun around here? It's clear no one knows how to play whist, so that's out, and dueling for laughs seems tacky. I've already watched a few of you brutes bash one another's faces in, which had its charms and no doubt, but the time for that is over. I can't play bed, wed, behead with you, because you're all proles of no account and no education who wouldn't know the high-society names I mention to you. Oh!

[ He sits up a bit, stopping his playing mid-note, right before the end of the first section of the piece. What a musical anticlimax. ]

I've got one. I'll write limericks about you. Tell me a bit about yourself, and I'll write limericks. Go on, do. They'll be funny, I promise - this is one of my favorite games. Absolutely kills at parties.

[ And then, with a small bow - ]

Byerly Vorrutyer, Emperor of Barrayar, at your lyrical service.

Comments

[illuminescent]

Napping in the northernmost tower?

[vorrutyer]

No. Did you nap?

[illuminescent]

Have you ever met with the Parliament of Owls? They quite dislike the daytime. One must nap, the day after.

[vorrutyer]

Well, I've spent time with individuals not dissimilar from that...

[illuminescent]

So then you understand!

[vorrutyer]

Yes, I understand. And you have my deepest sympathies. Mornings are simply the worst, aren't they?

[illuminescent]

Oh, yes. Terrible indeed.

[vorrutyer]

I much prefer to stay out all night, don't you?

[illuminescent]

Most certainly I do!

It is quite the bane of my royal brothers.

[vorrutyer]

Perhaps one of these days, we ought to stay out all night. Go stargazing.

[illuminescent]

With a chaperon?

[Or, you know.

Without one.]

[vorrutyer]

[ But his intentions are - for once - not dishonorable. ]

A chaperon would be welcome. If they could keep our owlish hours.

[illuminescent]

Oh, I most doubt many do.

[vorrutyer]

Then are you asking to forego one?

[illuminescent]

Do you intend to harm me?

[vorrutyer]

[ For once, his face settles into something very honest - perhaps rather painfully honest - when he replies: ]

I would sooner cut my own throat.

[illuminescent]

That will not be necessary.

And neither, then, will a chaperon.

[vorrutyer]

[ He gives a half bow, then straightens, tapping at his chin. ]

Though on the other hand...what will people think? A man must guard his reputation. I wouldn't want anyone thinking you'd kissed my cheek or forehead - the maidens might think me disgraced and unmarriageable.

[illuminescent]

[A pause-]

Oh!

[And then she bursts out laughing.]

Then I will be the one to marry you, sir!

[vorrutyer]

Ah, would you? You'd save a poor gentleman from disgrace?

[illuminescent]

Oh yes. But I do not think I will have to.

[vorrutyer]

No? Do you think I have some proper marriage prospects, then?

[illuminescent]

I think you shall! A woman so fine you will not even think to remember me.

[vorrutyer]

I cannot conceive of such a woman.

[illuminescent]

You are but the most charming of men.