"Ah." That is a joke, of course. Of course it's a joke. A rebuke to his curiosity. Who commands these guerrilla mountain forces? Piotr fucking Vorkosigan, fuck off. Except that she says it so matter-of-factly. It's not a screw-off answer. It's not a joke answer. It's a...factual answer. Really providing the information needed. And this woman is...straightforward. Seems straightforward.

"Uhm." He reaches up to stroke his moustache, drops his hand again. Pushes a lock of hair from his face.

General Count Piotr Vorkosigan.

General Count...

What a strange dream this is.

"If you will - suffer another question, milady," he trills. "Exactly how far away is summer? By which I mean - what is today's date. Please give the date in full, if you would, including the - uhm - year."