"I'm well aware of the morale problem in camp," Sonia slurs tartly, and shakes her head again. "Mm, no. You're wrong on this count. It'd be a temporary balm, but the second you made one wrong move -- these men are desperate for a win, Byerly. You weren't here for the epidemic, but you were here for the cold. Sometimes...too much hope is a dangerous thing. Expectations rise, and when they are disappointed -- I know these men, Byerly. They'd turn on you and Miles like a lynch mob before you could blink twice. Especially Miles. And what I said about Count Piotr still stands. He'd be furious if he knew."

She purses her lips, looking overall unconvinced and a little glum. Maple mead serves as an excellent mood amplifier, and Sonia doesn't really need one to begin with. "But Miles is a Vorkosigan, and that's... Look, I didn't get to spend a lot of time with the ghem-General, but I can tell you that he's got something very personal with Count Piotr. I think they'd take the opportunity if they had it."