Sonia puffs out a breath in return, dismissive, and arches an eyebrow. The mead is only just now starting to catch up with her, a warmth spreading slowly all the way to her fingertips, and she cups her hands in her chin, elbows braced on her knees.

"On what charges? By actions alone, you've treated me with more honor than not. And don't you get started on that guilty by association horseshit," she adds, pursing her lips at Byerly. "You've done nothing to deserve evisceration by Countess Vorkosigan. Certainly nothing on my account."