They only just managed to get out of the Great Hall and the ceremonies before Aral started to dance. He swept his arms around Cordelia and half lifted her off her feet, twirling around and around in the corridor as the startled chamberlain stepped backwards.
"It's over, it's over, it's over," he chanted into her ear. "I'm free."
Cordelia let him whirl her around, and they danced along the corridor in a rapid waltz, accompanied by Aral now singing, "It's over, it's over, I'm free," to the tune of a popular dance melody, Cordelia laughing too hard to accompany him. At the end of the corridor, they crashed into a wall when Cordelia tripped over her feet, and Aral moved smoothly from singing to kissing, hard and passionate and celebratory.
"I don't--" he said between kisses "--have to referee another meeting of the Joint Councils ever again. Or get woken up at three am because some cats are fighting in the Residence grounds. Or--"
Cordelia forestalled a long list of the things Aral would never have to do again as Regent of Barrayar with another lingering kiss, her hands sliding under Aral's shirt to hold him properly. He braced them against the wall, and after a minute they were pressed urgently together, their fine clothes half-undone.
"Someone might come," Cordelia gasped.
Aral slid a hand up her thigh. "There are Armsmen about to keep people away. And if they don't--well, then there will be a sex scandal about a private subject and not the Lord Regent."
A private subject. What a beautiful thought. "Barrayar has had her share of you," she whispered into Aral's ear, holding him closely and possessively. "Now it's my turn."
"Oh, I like the sound of that," he murmured back. "At your command, dear Captain."