He laughs, holding on tighter and letting Ratchet warm his face even if the wet cold on his neck makes York shiver. The scruff of a beard rubs Ratchet's cheek -- it's not easy to keep up his usual routine with the Barrayarans. "You make two, I think he'll be happy to see you."

The guards are circling around but their swords are lowered, and York pulls out of the hug with a huge smile. "He brought gifts," he tells them, and steps back so they can search Ratchet and raid the bag.