Miles felt duty-bound to see to the Armsmen before he rejoined the group in the Yellow Parlor. It was also a temporary retreat from the action. He had gone out of his way to ask Alex about his disruptor injury. Alex had said something about self-repairing neurons, before being towed away by Cora for a more thorough check-up. Otherwise, Miles hadn't spoken to any of them in two hours.

It wasn't really shock. No, that had worn off in the first minutes. Raina had made sure of that, with her brutal honesty. The overwhelming feeling of self-gratification was the trouble. Part of him cried, 'Why shouldn't I be proud? I must have raised them well, they all seem to be at the top of their fields. And it means Ekaterin will marry me, which is what I want, right?'

The other part pointed out that it hadn't happened yet. 'Genetically, we are Miles's children. Temporally, we are not.' Unfair, then, to take credit from himself. The intimidation was also something he hadn't counted on. It was one thing to wish for tall, healthy children; it was another thing to have four of them suddenly appear, full-grown, with lives of their own, talking, laughing, knowing where all the dishes were kept, calling the servants by name, right in his own house. Miles fancied that his experience with Mark had taught him something about wish-fulfillment, but the sheer multiplication of the problem daunted him.

Add to that the small matter of Ivan's so-called 'manhandling,' which had elicited some amusingly frantic apologies from his cousin. Strange as it was, Miles was somehow not surprised. He wasn't sure his... daughter... had any inhibitions in that area. Especially since they'd had a mission to complete. It brought to mind some of Miles's more intriguing field decisions. And not a little bit of Ivan-twitting. Bad habits run in the family.

There was also something else about it too, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Little things, like the look on Raina's face at the mention of Giaja. The scars on her face. The way Kapas had died. Efficient, but indicative of something more. It made his intuition demon itchy.

Miles ran into Felice on his way to the parlor. Her sleeves were rolled up and a dishtowel was draped over her shoulder. She smelled of berries; no doubt keeping Ma Kosti company. She looked like an earnest serving girl, despite what had to be a feminine version of a regulation military burr. "Hi, Miles," she said shyly. Lines marked her age, but Miles saw through to a gangly, awkward teenager. "We were wondering when you'd join us."

He nodded. They walked on in silence. "That name seems to fit you, Felice," Miles said suddenly.

"Yes. Raina and Alex didn't like the name Sophia, so they took it upon themselves to give me a suitable nickname. Sophia Ellisa, 'Fia Ellise, Felice. The scene of your first military maneuver. I'm not sure if it was the latent suggestion, but I joined the military and I've never liked 'Sophia' either."

"It seems, well, excuse me for mentioning it, but they don't seem much older than you."

"Yes, looks are deceiving when it comes to Raina and Alex." It was almost a single word, Raina-and-Alex, to be said in one breath. "I've got as many long-lived Betan genes as they do, and that's not it. They just turned fifty, you know. That's good clean Cetagandan treatment for you."

"What?!" Miles hissed, as Felice slipped into the Yellow Parlor.

"Dessert's nearly done, guys!" Felice said.

"Bless you, dear," Raina answered, from her perch on the back of the long couch, reclining behind Cora. Felice joined her sisters. The room was full. Miles's parents sat side by side on the matching armchairs. Ivan had taken an ottoman for himself, still avoiding his gaze, Miles noticed. Gregor and Laisa shared the couch by the door, flanked by a pair of recovered Palace guards. Alex held up the wall in approved ImpSec style, making the guards' necks itch.

Ekaterin was sitting alone on the smallest couch. She met Miles's gaze, briefly, before he sat next to her. Neither made any move to embrace, or grasp hands, though Miles imagined a slight pressure where their shoulders touched. How awkward.

Count Vorkosigan continued his conversation. "Your Majesty, it would be wise to take their advice. It's much safer to have the baby in a replicator, separate from your person."

The Countess's lips pursed, but she said nothing.

Laisa nodded. "I'll think about it, thank you, Viceroy Vorkosigan." Gregor looked as though the point was moot. Seeing his first born son, if spectrally, had likely resolved the issue. Convincing Laisa was probably best done behind closed doors.

"Now we get to Sebastian," said Alex.

"And for that, we've got to start at the beginning," said Raina.

Cora raised her eyebrows. "The very beginning?"

"They'll have too many questions, otherwise, so better to air it all out," Raina explained.

"A bit of fortune-telling, huh?" Ivan murmured.

"Not that it matters," said Raina. She faced Miles and Ekaterin. "I warn you, it will be disturbing."

"Just tell us the truth," Ekaterin said flatly. That quelled Raina for a moment.

Light circles of red colored Ekaterin's cheeks. What is it about the quality of a mother's voice, Miles reflected, that a grown woman, fearless and confident, will still react to its reproach?

Raina continued, subdued. "When Alex and I were born, everything seemed fine. Even the gene scan seemed all right, at first. But everything was not fine.

"The first memory I ever had was a nightmare. I don't remember waking up; I didn't even remember Alex, at first. I woke up screaming. After that, the nightmares were always there. They weren't about bogeymen, or Baba Yaga, or snakes, or falling off cliffs, or anything a child would know about. They always seemed like someone else's nightmares. Grown-up. Obscene. We have--- had them every night, and we almost always remembered them. At one point, we refused to go to sleep, we were so terrified of them."

Alex came over. He placed a hand lightly on Raina's ankle. "There were worse symptoms before that," he said. "At first our parents wrote them off as an active infancy. Nikki noticed it first, but they didn't believe him. Then a servant saw us playing with one of the kittens." His voice became distant. "It's a question of strength, twisting something's neck. One crawling baby can't do very much to a kitten. But two can easily overpower it."