Note: this is Lady Alys, version 2. A Deeper Season, Chapter 12, reminded me that she is pretty astute, and needs to be written that way.
Alys Vorpatril frowned. Since the attack, the Duronas had been milling around the main parlor, whispering to each other and occasionally eyeing the exit. She was once again grateful that she'd requested that the younger teens and children be left behind, because she could only imagine what mischief a bunch of hungry children would be up to by now. It had been at least 45 minutes since they'd heard an explosion from outside, and Gregor and most of the ImpSec personnel had rushed off. An ImpSec guard had since told Alys that an assassination attempt had been made on Miles Vorkosigan, who'd caused all this trouble by bringing the Duronas here in the first place, and that Miles had had a seizure immediately afterwards. It was yet another Imperial crisis with Miles right in the middle.
Simon came up beside her. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Of course not. I don't know how to get everything back on track. And I'm worried about Gregor... you know what happenned to him when Miles was killed, and now with this attack... Gregor will be frantic."
"Well, Gregor's off dealing with that..."
"And I don't know when he's coming back!" said Alys, a bit more plaintively than she meant to. The Duronas were all rather cerebral scientists, and not Barrayaran, but she couldn't trust that they wouldn't be given a very bad impression by Gregor's absence.
"Perhaps we should go see what's going on... you are right; these folks do seem a bit restless. At least they don't drink very much..."
Alys sighed. But Simon was right; there wasn't set protocol for dealing with off-worlder dinner guests abandoned by their Imperial host. Had they been Barrayaran, she could have sent word to the wine cellar, and let them drink away whatever anxiety Gregor's sudden departure had caused... Maybe it would have been better if the Duronas did drink more. She asked one of the Armsmen present to supervise while she went to find out what to do, preferably from Gregor himself.
As she took Simon's hand, one of the Duronas approached her. "Could I be of assistance?" she asked. "I'm a doctor, I know Lord Vorkosigan very well..."
"No, no," said Alys, waving her off, "I have no idea what's going on up there," -- Alys's way of trying to indicate that there were security concerns, without actually saying it -- "and in any case I am sure that the Residence physician knows what to do for him."
As Simon and Alys climbed the stairs towards the Emperor's offices, he remarked, "You know, she might have been useful."
"What do you mean?" Alys was not going to go back for that Dr. Durona, whoever she was.
They passed into a hallway, and Simon answered, "Well, you know that was Rowan Durona, the one who, as I understand it, took the lead role on Miles' cryo-revival. And, as I understand it, their relationship was... not entirely one of doctor and patient."
Alys raised an eyebrow at Simon. She really didn't need to know about Miles' lovelife, and she didn't know why, but getting an ex-girlfriend of Miles involved right now seemed like a very bad idea, what with Gregor being so... twitchy about anything related to Miles.
Gregor's moods had been everywhere for the past few weeks, ever since Winterfair. He was as polite to her as always, but he seemed very distracted. He was so unreachable, even moreso than Ivan. These boys -- she still thought of them that way, her boys -- were so uncooperative. Neither were interested in any of the literally hundreds of suitably Vorish young ladies she's presented them with, but their disinterest was expressed so differently. She'd run across Ivan in the company of the most inappropriately common sorts of women, and way too many of them, while Gregor was entirely mulish about keeping company with any woman at all, suitable or not.
She had a good idea what the problem was. Gregor had had the best opportunities to marry that any Barrayaran man could, and he just Was Not Interested. There was something in his careful, cerebral manner that suggested to Alys that his interest might not be for women, but men, but her job -- the dominating task of her social existence -- was to get him married off, to a woman, with whom he could produce an heir. Alys knew all too well what could happen to the Imperium if there were a fight over succession.
So she had set her mind to finding a woman who Gregor would accept as his public spouse, who would be nothing more than his friend in private.. Although she didn't like to think about the sexual aspects, she knew that with the technology now available on Barrayar, Gregor and his Empress wouldn't even have to touch each other in order to fulfill their reproductive duties. Of course, Alys had the difficult task of finding a girl who wanted to be Empress enough to put up with Gregor's intimate inattention, and, more importantly, who could absolutely be trusted to never breathe a word about it to anyone (other than Alys, who at one point had considered that had she been 30 years younger, she herself might have been that girl.)
Gregor's continued bachelorhood was, of course, a subject of gossip among the Vor, and while Alys didn't hear much of it, given that she was so close to him, it was not unknown to her. Recently, a couple of her high-Vor peers had made references to his putative sexual orientation; in fact, Countess Vordovan had been excessively blunt in this regard, when it became apparent that Gregor had no interest in her granddaughter Patricia. Consequently, Alys was officially Not Speaking to any of the Vordovan women at the moment, which was a shame, because she had seen in Patricia the good sense and steady personality that might have made her an appropriate candidate.
Alys had thought of bringing the subject up with Gregor herself, but she found the idea daunting. Whether she was right or wrong, he'd be deeply embarassed, perhaps enough to cause a rift between Alys and him. Even though she'd been his (unofficial, but definitely well-compensated) social director since he'd come into his majority, she knew that there was much more to him than she ever saw. She respected his deep reserve too much to push him into disclosure, and the standoff continued.
Alys and Simon rounded a corner, to find Miles approaching them with great determination, with a battered face, missing his uniform tunic, and wearing a bloodied shirt, and Ivan, the Residence physician, and two ImpSec guards chasing after him. Besides being inappropriately attired, Miles did not look good at all. He swayed as he walked, and almost crashed into the wall. "Ah," Miles called to Alys and Simon. "Good. Simon, tell everyone I'm all right, would you please?"
Simon frowned deeply at him. Clearly he would agree with Alys that Miles was most definitely not all right at the moment. "I'd be happy to. Are you?"
"Of course," Miles said, and ducked past them. Alys knew that she'd hear from Simon later about how difficult it was to not know everything that was going on, security-wise. He had a rather annoying tendency to obsess about it, although Alys had found that she could distract him easily, just by putting her hands on his shoulders. Although Simon had a public reputation as a cipher, in matters regarding Alys, he was extremely uncomplicated. Miles' retinue rushed past, barely acknowledging that Alys and Simon were there -- except for the panicked look Ivan gave them.
"Should we go on?" Alys asked Simon.
"Perhaps we should wait a moment; my guess is that Miles is about to go barging in on Gregor and who knows what," Simon replied. He took her hand, which she appreciated.
A few minutes later, they arrived at Gregor's office, and Simon knocked lightly. Alys opened the door without waiting, and took in the tableau -- a pained-looking Gregor, a swaying Miles, the two Cetagandans looking very imposed upon, assorted security staff, and Ivan. He looked very uncomfortable, as if his mother was the last person he wanted here. "Gregor," she said, not caring that she was obviously interrupting some very delicate conversation, "What do you want to tell the guests? They're getting rather restless, and more than a little worried."
General Allegre lifted a hand to Alys. "We're still on lockdown. No one is coming or going for another hour at least until we finish a full security check." Alys did not find this reassuring at all, although she supposed that keeping the Duronas confined to one place was better than having to gently urge them to leave.
Gregor rose to his feet. He obviously had completely forgotten that he had any guests, and Alys groaned inwardly. This situation was getting more absurd by the minute. "Please move everyone in to dinner," he said. "I'll be down in just a moment. Haut Pel, General?" Gregor nodded to them as two ImpSec agents escorted them out, and Alys was happy, actually, that she had a crowd of Duronas as dinner guests, rather than those two wretched Cetagandans.
Alys, having received enough instruction to feel comfortable, pushed Simon gently towards the door. Just as they got there, Alys looked over her shoulder, and Gregor and Miles were staring at each other in the strangest way. Countess Vordovan's accusations echoed in her mind, but no, these two had always been the closest friends, like brothers, really. Alys remembered all too well how Gregor had barely been able to keep from cracking, when it seemed sure that Miles had died on Jackson's Whole. And Miles was poised to become a very important potical tool for the Imperium, someone who would be very difficult to replace. So perhaps it wasn't so surprising that Gregor would be more concerned than usual about Miles' well-being, given that he'd just almost been killed again. In any case, Alys suspected that if Gregor did find a male partner, she'd be the last one to know. And Miles was definitely too much a loose cannon, at times, to play such a completely private role in Gregor's life.
After a moment, Gregor asked Miles if he wanted a dinner tray sent up. Miles, who looked like he had the worst hangover Alys had ever seen, replied, "No thanks," he said. "No food."
"I do," Alys heard Ivan say. She turned to stare at him for a moment, and he twitched. Whatever was happening, her son was clearly caught up in it.
Alys glanced at Gregor again, and it seemed like Gregor was... composing himself out of some very disturbing state. She knew he was skilled at putting on a public mask, at setting impenetrable boundaries around his inner thoughts no matter what was going on around him, but this time it looked, to her, like a real struggle. Alys hoped that the dinner could be salvaged, but she was doubtful. -->