Till his eye fell on his children, squirming and confused in the front row between their mother and grandmother. He hesitated, smoothed out the flimsies, began reading. The new Count’s speech was everything it should be; many wept.
Ivan wondered what the old Miles would have said.
5 Gregor.
The interment at Vorkosigan Surleau was private, meaning a hundred or so people milling around. The grave was double but only one side dug; the earth waited like a bridal bed. The pallbearers were six: Ivan, Illyan, and Koudelka, of course; Duv Galeni for Komarr; Admiral Jole for Sergyar. And one other.
Lady Alys, to whom everyone owed their sanity, pointed out that Gregor’s place was with the chief mourners.
“The man has carried me since I was five years old,” answered the Emperor of Barrayar. “It’s my turn.”
Alys gave way as Gregor went to help shoulder the bier.