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[OOM immediately previous: In the Viceroy's Residence on Sergyar, the Vicereine gets an unexpected piece of video mail.]

The front door swings open, and Cordelia Vorkosigan walks in for the first time in ...

... well, it's only been about a month, for her.

She looks around curiously, then makes for a corner booth.

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The corner booth is not all that far from a certain table at which a familiar white-clad figure is seated, in possession of tea and biscuits.

Blodwen smiles warmly at the other woman.

Cordelia tilts her head at the other woman, visibly trying to place her.

After a moment her mouth parts in a soundless "ah" and she returns the smile.

"It is Cordelia, is it not?" The light soft voice sounds almost bemused. "So long it has been, since I have seen you."

"It has. I'm afraid I've been busy at home." Her voice is quite cheerful, bizarrely so if one knows anything about the nature of the 'busy' she's been.

"Mrs ... Reynolds, was it? Rowlands," she corrects herself firmly. "How have you been?"

"Oh, quite well, to be certain -- and yourself, dear?"

Blodwen nods to a seat, saying,

"Do come and join me, I would love the company."

Cordelia smiles, and moves to seat herself across the table from Blodwen.

"I was hoping to run into young Will Stanton," she confides, "but I don't seem to see him. Or anyone else I know, I'm afraid."

Her gaze wanders without pause over Aphelise.

She watches this without reaction, even as she says,

"Oh, now -- I have not seen young Will in quite some time, although his friend Bran has been here more recently to be certain."

A glitter in the ice-blue eyes, hidden swiftly. "Do you remember him, dear?"

Comfortably: "Bran Davies? Sure. Sweet kid. Has the most unusual eyes."

"Very dear indeed, he has been."

In the past, of course. Blodwen's smile is still warm. "And very close to young Will -- they became such good friends, while Will was visiting his family at Clwyd Farm."

"Of course, you've probably seen him more recently than I have -- isn't he a neighbor of yours?"

"Was," she corrects, and although the light soft voice shows a touch of grief, the flash in her eyes is far colder.

"I am unable to go home, you see."

Cordelia's own eyes widen with concern. "Oh, that's awful. Bound here, or...?"

"Why, I have not tried to go anywhere else," she says, eyes wide at the thought.

"I know some people can bring others with them to their homeworlds when they leave here -- I was researching the subject, some time ago."

As though just struck by the thought: "Would you want to fill out one of my questionnaires? I've all but given up on the research, but it might be worth reopening."

"Oh perhaps," she says, "but goodness, I cannot think what someone like me could say to help--"

A moment's pause, and Blodwen continues,

"Is it that you have been studying how people travel from world to world here, then?"

The light soft voice is curious, and the gleam in her eyes is far more intense.

Gotcha.

"I've been trying to," Cordelia admits lightly. "I haven't had a great deal of success, though."

"Oh dear, and a pity that is," she says gently. "Still and perhaps you will have luck yet."

Briskly: "I don't think luck will do it. I need more data, is what. And I don't even know if I'm collecting the right information."

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