"You really should have better refreshments, Verona," Marien snapped, glancing with pure disdain at the delicate honeyed cakes on the table. "Everything here is so... rustic. And why isn't the fireplace lit properly? I suppose you've become accustomed to living like a common peasant in the snow, but some of us have delicate constitutions."
"The fireplace is roaring, Marien," Verona said calmly, taking a slow, elegant sip of her tea. She didn't let the insult touch her; she had heard far worse from this woman when she was a child. "Perhaps you're just feeling the natural chill of being unwelcome. Since I've already informed you twice that Elric is at the palace for the King's emergency council, and that he will not be back for many hours, why are you still occupying my gallery?"
