"Trust," Olivia says, "is a rarity in times like these. You are well within your rights to approach the situation with skepticism. After all, it is only what we've done to you." A careful dance of wariness -- one wrong foot and they lose. Their lives, the war, Barrayar. They know nothing about the outsiders, and in turn, they know nothing about them. "And words are easily used and easier overheard."

When the other woman -- Maharani -- introduces herself, Olivia lowers her head again in greeting and acknowledgement. "Well met," and that's said with a twist of her lips, because both of them know it's hardly that, "Maharani." But there is no spark to signify Olivia recognizes or knows it's anything other than a name. "I am Countess Vorkosigan." The whole weight of her title, Princess and Countess Olivia Vorbarra Vorkosigan, seems pointless to use with people who have no knowledge of their system. Just the most relevant one will do.

Reaching her tent, Olivia pulls and ties back the tent flap -- for her safety as well as the other woman's. Olivia has no plans to make the other woman feel as if she's being led to a trap.