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[ 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.

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Ah, but there's a problem...I'm in a private home.

[ She already has a foot out the door when he says that, and she stops suddenly. ]

Huh? So you're... visiting someone?

[ Who'd want him for company? ]

That I am, dear mademoiselle.

[ She's silent for a minute, her frustration seeping away now. ]

You already made friends with someone who is well off?

[ Why didn't she think of that tbh. ]

In a manner of speaking.

[ Despite her bringing up the question to begin with, she's shocked. ]

¡Que no! [ Her hand leaves the door, clutching her face. ] You've got to be kidding me!

[ Well, if he ever wondered how low her opinion was of him... ]

[ Jeez. ]

I'm capable of getting along with people, Athena.

[ O o p s. ]

Did I... say that out loud?

[ An awkward laugh follows, but she's quick to carry on. ]

But it isn't as though I can run into someone's private property. Hmm...

Yes. If you tried, I'd have you arrested.

There's... no need to go that far.

[ She isn't doing it now, after all! Though it had been pretty close. ]

Of course...You could always try to lure me out.

[ Speaking of hearing emotions - he's barely able to contain the laughter in his voice right now. He's really enjoying tormenting poor Athena. ]

[ The quick response to that is her slamming the front door shut again, her stepping back into her house again. She's too easy to rile up, stop this!!! ]

I don't want to see your face right now!

Ah, probably just as well. I wouldn't want to abandon my charming, rich friend.

Well I hope you trap your fingers under the piano cover!

[ Harsh. ]

Really? Did you find my playing so unpleasant?

I find you unpleasant.

[ His piano playing is fine... She has nothing against that. ]

Because I tease you?

That's one of the reasons.

[ It comes out as a grumble, though it's partly because trying to give as much as she gets doesn't work. ]

Ah. And what are the other reasons?

That annoying smug look you keep wearing, your lack of appreciation for the colour yellow and-- [ Now, her voice quietens. ] --the rest is classified.

[ A slight hesitation - not quite faltering, just...a moment. ]

Classified. And do you think it's right to hold those classified things against me?

[ It's eerily quiet on her end for a moment, longer than he takes. A minute ticks by, then another. ]

For now. Until I understand it better.

Guilty until proven innocent yet again, is it, Mademoiselle Cykes?

Not quite. [ There's a softer sound as she flops back onto her couch, though her own voice is a little more reserved now as well. ]

But it isn't something I'm comfortable discussing on here.

No? Then buy me a drink.

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