Torches, goodness. It's one thing to know that this place is behind on its tech and another entirely to see it first hand. But hadn't Barrayar been the same way not so long ago? Hell, it still is in certain backwater areas of his own district. He wishes he could comment as such, that this is making him homesick, quite frankly. But Admiral Naismith, clone of Evil Lord Vorkosigan, shouldn't say anything of the sort. Sigh. He just takes in a deep breath of the smell of earth and smoke and stone and looks rather more content than he should.

Taura catches the cloth easily; she seems quite pleased at being asked to cover her head, finding the fabric to be quite beautiful. Miles, too, is happy enough to take his and put it around his shoulders. Blending in, eh? He knows he will be a poor sight regardless, but it's to pretend like he's going to blend in here. "As you recommend," he says with a quick little bow. Though. He mimics her tones now, doing a reasonable job at copying her accent. Not perfect, not as natural as his Betan accent, but possessing some of the same skill. He's pretty good at accents. "What else can you tell me about the festival? Should we be keeping an eye out for something in particular?"

Or for Rao for that matter. It's good to see he's kept his word so far ... and a little nervewracking. Surely something else will go wrong instead.