elnysa | video; un: eproghuefgdzptrrw

[ Unlike any of Byerly’s previous posts, which consisted of him monologuing interminably, this post looks to be a dialogue. There are actually two people on screen - Byerly’s lanky, elegant, sloe-eyed self, and next to him a small odd-looking fellow with intense features and a too-large head set on a hunched spine. For all the differences between them, though, the two look like they could be brothers, or at least cousins - similar noses, similar bone structure, similar skin tone, similar hair color. Ah, the products of Barrayaran inbreeding.

You can tell who set up the camera by the framing. Byerly is centered, and sitting at an angle that best shows off his fine features. Miles Vorkosigan, the small fellow, is squished off into a corner of the frame. By is the first to speak, too. ]

Bonsoir, lovely fellows and ladies. Your bosom friend and brother Byerly here with an important announcement. Though you have known me as His Imperial Majesty Byerly II of Barrayar, now I’m just plain By, because my position has been usurped. [ A fake mournful sigh. ] Brutal civil war. Deadly. Horrible. I’ve been dealt a monstrous blow.

[ Miles, meanwhile, just kind of rolls his eyes skyward. Spare him from his cousin’s melodrama. ] If by “usurped” you mean “assumed rightful authority,” then yes. I usurped you. With little resistance, I might add. [ A pause; he straightens his small frame as best he can - not that it’s especially effective given the camera angle. ] Did you really go around calling yourself His Imperial Majesty Byerly II?

But of course. [ Byerly blinks in mock-innocence. ] Sire, don’t tell me that you don’t see the Imperial office as worthy of respect. I was simply demanding the dignity due to the camp stool.

Is it more dignified to lose it to a civil war too? [ Miles arches a brow in turn. ] I could fight you, I suppose.

Oh, please don’t do that, sire. [ By’s expression is a reasonable approximation of pained. ] I don’t want to hurt you. He’s very fragile, you see. [ The last is said conspiratorially to the audience, as though Miles couldn’t hear. And, swiftly, before he can be executed for treason - ] So I wished to introduce my dear sometime-cousin and current-overlord to the network, as a grand announcement of an enormous life change, and an announcement that I will of course be hosting a coronation party for him.

-- What?

[ There’s not even the slightest twinkle of amusement in Byerly’s face; he looks perfectly solemn as he explains - ]

It is, of course, customary for those invited to a coronation to bring gifts of tribute. I would not presume to speak for my lord Emperor, but I might suggest gifts of alcohol. Or something a little harder than alcohol? A fellow does grow tired of only being drunk, and the Emperor is quite a fan of stimulants, which is why you’ll hear him babble endlessly, all the time. Would that suit you, sire?

[ Miles has been working his mouth like a frog in the background this whole time; he still sputters a moment, staring at Byerly in disbelief. ] I never agreed to a party, By -- [ He interrupts himself with a beautiful stream of cursing in Greek. ] For god’s sake, that won’t be necessary.

[ Loudly, speaking over his Emperor - ] That sounds like a yes to me! I’ll see you all tomorrow night. [ And with a wink, he cuts the feed. ]

[ ooc: blue is Byerly, red is Miles ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I've no intention of disrupting the agreement. To the locals I'll just be another disposed lord, like Byerly. Perhaps with more delusions of grandeur.

[ But - he still shakes his head. ]

I swore an oath. To Barrayarans, that is law. Even slumbering ones.

A law you're binding yourself to. If you truly wish to walk away, Miles... you can. You know that, don't you?

[ Miles shakes his head again, sharply. In his mind, there truly is no choice involved. ]

I would sooner forsake my own breath.

Then that is your choice to make. And it's one you may be able to change, if that is something you find more palatable in the future.

You underestimate me, then.

It's not an underestimation, Miles. It's experience and perhaps hope that you'll wish to do what may be best for you.

Did experience change your son's decision to rule?

You're comparing two completely different scenarios, Miles. Had he wished it, I would have encouraged it. He was also eleven when he sat the throne.

[ Miles looks confused for a moment, temporarily derailed. ]

Eleven? Couldn't you serve as Regent, at least?

[A sharp, bitter laugh.]

As a corpse? I was dead, Miles. He'd lost both mother and father in a war against an enemy I wouldn't wish on the world. I at least had the pleasure of seeing it wiped bare before I died. Again.

I was exposed. I had to leave; leave my land and my son. My people. It was better for him his father died than stay the monster he was. I left. He ruled. And continued to for many years. As did his sons. And theirs. Until the monarchy was a thing of the past and our world evolved.

[ Ah. That - would put a damper on things, wouldn't it. Miles winces, sobering instantly. ]

Would you have served him if you could? If the situation had permitted.

That was not my place. A Prince cannot rule if his father is looking over his shoulder. If every action is second guessed or doubted and needing assurance.

[He sighed, shaking his head.]

It was how it had to be. I did the best any father could. He made me proud. He was worth waging a war over.

Did you wage war for him, then?

I did.

But that is, perhaps, best left to be told another time. I know neither he nor my wife slumber up in the sky, and thinking of them so persistently weighs heavy on my heart, still though it is.

As you say, then. Another time.

[ He pauses a moment, his expression quiet. ]

But please still consider Our offer. As We will still be a Count even if someone else should awaken and relieve Ourself of Our imperial duties.

I will consider it. If you wish to talk more of it, I will be at your celebration.

[ A nod at that. ]

I'll look forward to seeing you there.

Inform your man I'll be bringing something... appropriate.

[It appeared he and Byerly may not have gotten off on the right foot. Yet. Or perhaps they were merely testing each other.]