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"So." Cordelia put down her glass and fixed Alys with a stare that made her feel like she had a red targeting light on her forehead. "When was the last time you had sex?"
Alys had known Cordelia for twenty-five years, and in any case had far too much social self-control to choke on her sherry, but it was a near thing. She attempted to quench Cordelia with the blank raised-eyebrows gaze that was so very effective on presumptuous upstarts who tried to buttonhole her at large parties, but Cordelia merely cocked her head on one side and smiled cheerily. It was her own fault, Alys supposed. Cordelia had invited her home for a drink after they had escaped a dull afternoon reception at the Imperial Science Institute, Alys had agreed to the tête-à-tête, and now she was stuck with Cordelia's Betan approach to private conversation.
"I hope you don't try that line on anyone else," she said.
"Only my friends," Cordelia said.
"In that case it's amazing you have any left," Alys snapped, then realised she'd crossed a line when she saw the faint hurt in Cordelia's eyes. She took a deep, calming breath, and bowed her head. "I'm sorry, that was inexcusable of me."
Cordelia recovered her poise, but Alys made a mental note. Cordelia could sometimes be sensitive about her social skills. It was always a surprise to her when she came across Cordelia's vulnerable spots, they were so well concealed. "That's all right," Cordelia said. "But that's exactly what I'm talking about. The way you've been lately, you really need to get laid."
Alys took a sip of her sherry and sighed. It was true, she had been testy and short-tempered lately, and her friends had borne the brunt of it. She had less faith than Cordelia in sex as a cure-all, but it wasn't completely implausible as an explanation. "When I went on that galactic holiday," she said at last. "Six years ago."
"Ah, that's why you visited Beta."
"Barrayar has a very interesting history with Beta," Alys said with dignity. "A visit was entirely appropriate."
"You didn't mention what you'd been up to at the time," Cordelia pointed out.
"I was attempting to be discreet," Alys said. "I daresay ImpSec knew all about it. Simon gave me some very odd looks when I got back." She smiled.
"And did you have a good time?"
"More or less." Alys had spent three days on Beta as chaste as the Maiden of the Lake before succumbing to temptation and obtaining a pair of earrings that indicated that she was unattached and looking for a quick fling, nothing serious. She'd been approached by a number of entirely unsuitable people, but had eventually encountered a charming and good-natured gentleman and had spent several mutually enjoyable evenings with him. He had been fascinated by her descriptions of Barrayaran etiquette, which had amused her until he invited her to an evening with his historical reconstruction group and asked her to wear a proper Vor dress instead of the galactic fashions she had been experimenting with. The group had been awestruck to be introduced to a genuine aristocrat, and Alys had spent an excruciating time having her accent cooed over and her every action analysed like a scientific specimen in a lab. She had refrained from trying to explain that she didn't think that pre-space Regency England had actually possessed a strict social code about the conduct of orgies, and that Barrayar certainly didn't. "It was ... educational," she added to Cordelia.
"You didn't get caught by someone collecting galactics, did you?" Cordelia asked anxiously. "Not that it can't be fun, but winding up as a notch in someone's headboard can be a bit of a shock if you weren't expecting it."
"No," Alys said. "I found someone who wanted desperately to be a member of some Old Earth aristocracy." She and Cordelia gazed at each other for a while, then both began to giggle.
"You poor thing," Cordelia said, catching her breath. "Was the sex good, at least?"
"Very much so. But I think I'll stick to romantic holovids from now on."
"You should find someone closer to home," Cordelia suggested. "I know why you don't want to remarry, but there are other options. I'm sure there are a lot of men who'd jump if you lifted a finger."
"You think I should have quick fling with some handsome guy, perhaps my driver? He'd just report it to his superiors." She smiled. "Simon's taken to sending me his new recruits for me to break in. If they survive a month or two of driving me around he puts them on the Palace roster. They're all about nineteen and would probably faint if I started flirting with them."
"Still, you could have a relationship," Cordelia said. "This illusion that Vor women are all chaste and pure is nothing but an illusion. God knows you've filled me up with enough stories about who's sleeping with who over the years. You can't say that it's impossible."
"Some women have affairs," Alys said sharply. "You'll notice that generally, the ones who matter don't. Apart from a few ... special circumstances." She thought of Imogen Vormoncrief, whose husband had a strong preference for men and couldn't care less what his wife did once she had given him an ovum for an heir to be cooked up in a uterine replicator. Even Alys couldn't blame her for her long-running romance with Colonel Vorsmythe.
"The ones who matter?" Cordelia echoed.
"I've always thought a clandestine affair is terribly vulgar," Alys went on by way of explanation. "Sneaking around trying to keep things secret, making yourself vulnerable to anyone who wants power over you if they find out... it's foolish and it's unseemly."
"I never thought of it that way."
"Well, people don't have clandestine affairs on Beta, do they?" Alys said. "It's the one thing I will say for Betans: they're not ashamed of themselves." She sipped her sherry, hearing her grandmother's lecturing voice. Never, ever let anyone see you flinch, my dear. Whatever you do, do it with assurance. It had been advice that had kept her from many a social disaster.
"But why would it have to be a secret?" Cordelia asked. "It's not like you have a jealous husband to hide from. And surely nobody would dare to condemn you when you know where all the bodies are buried."
"It's not that simple," Alys said. Sometimes it baffled her how someone as brilliant as Cordelia could fail to understand Barrayaran social behaviour, but perhaps these things were more inculturated than she realised. "If I were to pick up some unsuitable man--my hypothetical driver--it would have to be a secret or I would lose status. Lady Alys Vorpatril can't be known to consort with proles. And if he wasn't unsuitable--well, he might have reasons why he couldn't be seen with me. And in any case it would make me more vulnerable, especially to the really conservative women."
"And you'd let their opinions dictate your acts? About something so personal?"
"You forget how many of their opinions I share," Alys retorted. "And the only way I can bring them, and therefore their husbands, into Gregor's centrist party is by following their rules. If I outrage them, they can disregard what I say. The personal is political, Cordelia, there's no such thing as a private life for our class."
"I know that, and I hate it," Cordelia said quietly. "I keep hoping that if I push--if you were to push--we could change that for the better."
"It's changing already. You're going to destroy the Vor class, you know," Alys said. She could see the first fracture lines, the changing balance of power on Barrayar. Sometimes she thought she was betraying all her ancestors in her friendship with Cordelia. But Cordelia was only a single boulder in the landslide; these were the changes that had started when the Time of Isolation had ended, and there was no end to them in sight yet.
Cordelia was watching her closely. "Does it bother you?"
Alys sighed. "The conservatives are right that you're all going to destroy the Barrayar they know. The only place I differ from them is that I think that some parts of it deserve to die." She leaned forward and poured more sherry for them both. "I just hope we can hang on to some of our virtues and our culture. Well, and that we can have change without having to go to war amongst ourselves over it."
"Amen to that." Cordelia twisted a lock of hair around a finger thoughtfully. "But you having a public affair wouldn't actually start a war, would it?"
"Likely not," Alys admitted. "Especially now that I'm past the age of having children--people get more agitated about scandals with younger women, when it could affect inheritance. In truth, I think a lot of the Old Vor like to believe women have no desires after they turn forty." She exchanged amused glances with Cordelia. "But anyway, the pool of men I could safely choose from is very small."
"For God's sake," Cordelia said, "aren't political and social considerations enough for you without throwing security into the mix as well?" She snorted. "I suppose if you have an affair you'll have to clear it with ImpSec first, will you?"
"If I do have an affair with anyone," Alys said, goaded, "I assure you Simon will be the first to know."
Cordelia's eyes narrowed, and she was silent a moment. Then she said, in her most analytical tone, "Did you know that's the third time you've mentioned Simon in this conversation?"
"Really?" Alys held her gaze unflinchingly.
"Really." Cordelia stared back, then put out a hand towards Alys, her expression turning sympathetic. "I'm sorry. I've always said Barrayar is a cruel place."
"It's all right," Alys said, holding on to her self-possession with both hands. Cordelia's private study was a room that somehow encouraged intimacy and confessions, but Alys felt that she had betrayed herself enough. "It's not important." She sat up and fixed a hairpin that was working itself loose.
"But surely," Cordelia said, ignoring Alys' signals that this conversation was over in a way that reminded Alys strongly of Miles, "Simon's not that unsuitable. I mean, he's single and he likes you and he's surely trusted and loyal enough not to be any kind of risk." She gave Alys a faintly disapproving look, and Alys resigned herself to being dissected. "I suppose you think of him as a prole, though."
Alys raised her eyebrows. It had been a long time since she had noticed the lack of an honorific on Simon's name. "Not really," she said. "I mean, I suppose he is, in some ways, but in others... he makes it not mattter. He's learned it rather than being born to it, of course, but after all these years he's completely embedded in the highest circles." She hesitated thoughtfully. On the rare occasions when she could get Simon to chat about things other than work, he had almost never mentioned his family or background. He had a hint of a provincial accent when he spoke Russian, though not in English or French, and she knew he'd had a brother who'd died at Komarr. Cordelia's Betan frown was making her wonder whether Simon was embarrassed to speak of his origins around her. But it seemed unlikely. Simon was no more inclined to apologise for himself than she was; it was one of the reasons he could fit into High Vor society so well.
"Then what's stopping you?" Cordelia said bluntly. "I mean, I can't see the appeal myself, but there's no accounting for taste. Simon does everything he can to make people forget that there's a human being inside that ImpSec armour, but he does seem to like you. I think he'd be up for it."
"That's not relevant," Alys said, making Cordelia blink in surprise. "He's the Chief of ImpSec. If I were to ... ally myself with him in such a marked way, with Gregor still single, everyone would think I was buying ImpSec's support for Ivan to make a bid for the throne. There's a lot of talk, you know, about the fact that I haven't found a bride for Gregor yet."
"Barrayarans," Cordelia muttered editorially, and Alys knew her well enough to fill in the rest of Cordelia's trenchant criticisms of a system where power and marriage were so inextricably linked. It wasn't as if she couldn't see the disadvantages for herself.
"Indeed. On top of that, there's his job. He has no time of his own, and he knows full well that anyone connected with him is a target. Face it, Cordelia, it's completely impossible on every level, for both of us, and the only sensible thing to do is ignore these--feelings, and get on with life."
Cordelia was silent, watching her. At last she said, "I don't like to think of you unhappy. I wish things were different."
"Well, they're not," Alys said rather sharply. "There's no need to feel sorry for me. I could see after Padma died that Barrayar offered me two lives: I could either have a political, social life, or a private one. I made my choice and I don't regret it." Except now and then, perhaps, on lonely nights, and when Simon was in her office. Some hint of this private honesty must have shown on her face, for Cordelia only smiled faintly. Taking her own advice, Alys glanced at her chrono. "I'd better go. I need to dress for the Tau Cetan ambassador's dinner." She stood up and made the proper thanks. Cordelia nodded acknowledgement.
"I won't pester you about it, then," Cordelia said quietly as Alys turned to leave. "But perhaps someday..."
"Perhaps. Thank you." Alys smoothed her skirts out carefully, raised her chin and swirled out of the study, confident that her face concealed all that she felt.