He did not bother correcting it to Vorkosigan-sama, or possibly -dono; at least she had the pronunciation right.  "At that level, a scornful no is not only shortsighted, but potentially dangerous.  I think a day or two of rest here might be good for my health."

"And how do I know that letter to your friend won't bring more trouble down on us?"

"It won't if I say not.  I outrank him."

Her lips twisted.  "Yah, you have that swagger, don't you?"

And Suze had undoubtedly seen a lot of upper management swagger in her time.  Miles wondered if her bosses had realized how closely they were observed.

Jin had been following this exchange with anxious squeakings of his chair. "I could take his letter, Suze!  I don't mind a bit."

Miles opened a hand to Suze, half persuasion, half plea.  "Think it through.  You lose no secrecy you haven't lost already"—he cut the unless you propose to have me murdered—no point in planting suggestions—"and you gain my gratitude."

"And what's that worth?"

On Barrayar, quite a lot.  But they were not, as Roic had several times pointed out, on Barrayar.  "I'll think of something."

Her eyebrows signaled severe skepticism.  But she spoke instead to Jin: "Didn't Yani tell you to leave him out there?  See what trouble comes of good deeds, Jin!"  Miles wasn't sure if this counted for a yea or a nay, but she heaved a sigh and went on, "Take Vorkosigan-san down to the storerooms and find him something to write with.  And on."

Jin shot eagerly to his feet.  Miles made his thanks and followed him out before Suze could change her mind.

#

Jin watched, shifting from foot to foot, as Miles-san, as he'd decided to think of him, because that last name was a jawbreaker, sorted through the few half-empty boxes of notepaper on the shelf in the storeroom.  It was mostly the kind that old ladies used for writing formal thank-you notes, decorated with flowers and such, though Jin eyed one that bore puppies with a certain covetousness.  With a quirk of his eyebrows, the little man made his selection, then turned to testing pens from the box of assorted discards.  He found two that worked, stuck them in his pocket, and looked around.

"This place looks like a junk shop.  Or the attic of Vorkosigan House . . ."

"Whenever anybody has findings that they don't want, they bring them down here for anybody to use," Jin explained.  "Or else when . . . um."  When they go downstairs to Tenbury for the last time, but he couldn't say that.  He wasn't sure he was even supposed to know that.