There are no laws, it occurs to Olivia, that make Rani's words treasonous -- or rather, Olivia's acceptance of it. No one thought to rule on a woman's ability to keep armsmen and oathsworn; always preferring it to filter through one's husband or father. She is not undermining, they are playing the game by the rules set before them.

If she could, she would take the offer, the almost-oath, into her hands and cradle it to her chest as if it were a physical thing that mirrored its value. Barrayar has no currency as valued as one's word, nothing more precious as honor. It is a funny thing, Olivia thinks, that she prefers that to Beta Colony. Her childhood home offered truth and transparency for security; and after a decade on Barrayar, she thinks she would take Barrayar over whatever Beta has to offer her.

"May I never cause you to waver, doubt, or become forsworn."

It is no formal oath -- no one is putting their hands between her's -- but it is enough. Olivia knows her responsibility with Rani's words, can feel the weight settle in her bones alongside those of a Countess and a Princess. A burden, maybe, but no less than any other she has had to carry. Willingly, and with honor.