A little ripple of tension goes through Byerly's shoulders at the sound of the clapping. He doesn't turn around; instead, he just freezes, and grasps the violin bow like a weapon. Then - still without looking around - he forces himself to relax, and takes a deep breath, and then waves the bow in a vague salute over his shoulder.

"I know everyone here," he responds, though the twist in his voice makes that rather transparently metaphorical. "There's little enough Earth-descended biological material on Barrayar - I expect the atoms that once made up my own ancestors were transferred into these people at some point. Don't you think?"

He sighs, then, and without looking around settles back into a sitting position. "You don't clap after funereal songs, you know."