lets_see_what_happens: And a heaviness steals (singulosque gravitas)
Emperor Gregor Vorbarra ([personal profile] lets_see_what_happens) wrote 2016-01-13 08:49 pm (UTC)

I imagine he was in a bit of a panic, knowing his sentencing could be any day, or that he may already have missed it. [Gregor's voice is toneless, flat, his eyes flicking up to Bel and then away.]

In fact, his father had sent him off-planet to Beta Colony in the beginning to get him clear of the storm he could see building, clear as day. The whole plot, actually, hinged on my being stupid, easy to manipulate, and obnoxiously full of myself, and it was pulled off completely without a hitch until Miles returned, in characteristically spectacular fashion. [Gregor isn't deliberately looking away from Bel anymore but his eyes are distant, the bottle of water still between his hands now.] I had just come into my majority, you see, with Miles' father stepping down as Regent and fulfilling his name's word to my grandfather by giving power to me in full. I, being twenty-two and an idiot, was eager to use it--prove that I had it, and that the government and the Empire were my own, and not his or anyone else's. It was very important to me at the time. Thus, it was also embarrassingly easy for Aral's political opponents to convince me that he was scheming for power, or that Miles was, and that I should distance myself from the Vorkosigans, prove my independence, and show my power as Emperor all in one stroke. [He makes a sharp gesture with one hand, closing it into a tight fist and looking at it for a moment before he exhales and his fingers relax into a soft curl in his lap, eyes intent with remembered emotion for a moment before they fix on Bel again.]

Miles would have been sentenced to death by starvation and exposure. Not slow. In the Great Square, under the windows of Aral's office where he would have had a clear view the entire time. A death--along with Ivan's--that would have broken his father and cleared the way for me to be assassinated and the Empire to be seized. All because I didn't trust what I knew of a boy who had been loyal to me since before he could walk and the man who helped me light my grandfather's funeral pyre. [Gregor's expression shifts minutely, unreadable, his dark eyes still but locked on Bel with an intensity he rarely shows.] I didn't trust Miles, and it nearly killed him. And me. And a lot of other people, probably, depending on how everything else fell out. I know that Miles has forgiven me, and I'm grateful for it, but it is not a mistake I intend to make ever again, to forsake my own measure of a person for someone else's, or to doubt those I know to be true.

[Gregor's eyes burn briefly on Bel's before he looks away again, but his expression is easing now, mouth tilting a little as he shakes his head wryly.]

This is all a bit heavy a topic with which to clear up a maple mead hangover, I apologize. I'm glad Miles considers it an interesting footnote to close his first wild galactic escapade, but that isn't the whole of the matter, and the truth of it isn't something I can allow myself to forget. [His mouth curves suddenly into the first smile that's reached his eyes all day.] And whatever legal fiction Miles and Simon have created out of the Dendarii Mercenaries, Bel, I have no illusions to whom you truly belong.

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