"You know that those aren't magic words, right?" Sonia waves her fingers at him. "You're my friend, and I'll worry about you as much as I please. And it does matter to me." She leans back against the rock and gives him an oddly penetrating look for a girl so drunk. "I meant what I said before. About service, I mean. I refuse to believe you've outlived your usefulness, because it's patently untrue. And I know you want to serve. You just don't see how you can. You have some nasty blind spots, Byerly."

As so neatly demonstrated by their talk about con artistry. Sonia stretches her arms over her head, arching her back until she feels a satisfying little pop, and lets out a satisfied sigh. "If Count Piotr asked you to fight in his army, would you?"