“Frankly, I’d rather be getting drunk in a corner with that idiot Ivan—or talking to you.” His father’s eyes were warm upon him. “Your work comes first, of course, sir. I understand that.” Count Vorkosigan paused, and gave him a peculiar look. “Then you understand nothing. My work has been a blight on you from the very beginning. I’m sorry, sorry it made such a mess for you—”
