So Byerly has told her. Something, anyway. He can't quite suss out if that includes their connection to the Vorkosigans; clearly it hadn't included Miles in particular. So he'd best step carefully around Byerly in turn, so as not to accidentally undo what he may have said.

"He's right," he says quietly. Voice pitched low, though there's really no need. There's no one anywhere near them who will remember anything in the morning. "His world is ... different from mine." He's speaking more metaphorically here - not that he knows there's a distinction to make. "But we both see a Barrayar with no war. With - room for more kinds of people. More ways to live."

(She will never live to see it. Not unless they manage to do something impossible.)