Aral grins brilliantly. The expression quite transforms him, briefly obliterating any hint of the neutral-to-stern countenance that seems to be his default.
"Vast swathes of it are variously classified; Cordelia has been referring to 'whatever it is that earned Miles a haut-wife' as the 'mythical feat' and I am reasonably sure I should not be deciding on my own recognizance who it is and is not classified to. But it was suitably mythical and featlike."
"Of course it was; Miles did it," he snorts. "He's very much the type."
"Clearly. So Lisbet put in a word for me about seeing that he got - how was it that Lord Vorpatril put it - a grab bag of prizes."
"I was running errands for her in the course of the mythical feat. That's how I met Miles."
"I hope I don't cause undue problems just by being here, being Lady Vorkosigan, etcetera. I no longer expect that Miles is likely to change his mind and ship me to Beta, though, or I'd reassure you that this would be doable with no fuss, as I told Captain Illyan."
"Practical of you... but yes. We're a stubborn bunch, we Vorkosigans. I would expect him to take you offplanet rather than send you, if it came to that. Which I would definitely prefer it didn't."
"We've been talking a little about having a Barrayaran ceremony, too," she adds. "With the groats, and everything."