Sonia had thought she could always tell when Byerly was telling the truth, and it turns out she'd been devastatingly wrong. It had hurt to be that wrong, worse than a blow to her pride. But she doesn't think he's just giving her lip service about her talents. His appreciation had seemed so genuine when she'd first shown him her pictures. She sways for a minute, lips pursed at having her sarcasm deflected so easily.
Perhaps she oughtn't be so petty with him about it. It isn't as though she doesn't appreciate it. It's a little bubble of sanity, of...normalcy, as far as normalcy goes on this planet, and she's realizing quickly that those notions of the future, of another Vorbarr Sultana, weren't normalcy, but fantasy. On Barrayar, in her life, living in that miserable camp for better or worse, that's normalcy.
But frustration still lurks in her chest and she wants to be petty. She has so little control here, and pushing back -- it doesn't work in all directions. Tarn had threatened her with the lives of others, knowing it would cow her into retreat. Sonia flicks a blossom with her finger and several petals drift down to land on top of Byerly's head. She takes a picture.
"What are they going to do with it?" Sonia's voice is light, but there's still a lingering wariness. Because she believes that the Cetagandans might have interest in her talent, yes, but she doesn't believe in any altruistic angles. The Cetagandans always want something. "Put on an art show?"
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Perhaps she oughtn't be so petty with him about it. It isn't as though she doesn't appreciate it. It's a little bubble of sanity, of...normalcy, as far as normalcy goes on this planet, and she's realizing quickly that those notions of the future, of another Vorbarr Sultana, weren't normalcy, but fantasy. On Barrayar, in her life, living in that miserable camp for better or worse, that's normalcy.
But frustration still lurks in her chest and she wants to be petty. She has so little control here, and pushing back -- it doesn't work in all directions. Tarn had threatened her with the lives of others, knowing it would cow her into retreat. Sonia flicks a blossom with her finger and several petals drift down to land on top of Byerly's head. She takes a picture.
"What are they going to do with it?" Sonia's voice is light, but there's still a lingering wariness. Because she believes that the Cetagandans might have interest in her talent, yes, but she doesn't believe in any altruistic angles. The Cetagandans always want something. "Put on an art show?"