A distant relative (2)

The Marquise was scolding his wife, but the odd things were his grip around her forearm and her trembling shoulders.

«I told you to be more friendly! Look at that, now! The Archduke is leaving, and we didn't have time to have a proper conversation! What use do I have of a wife that doesn't know how to use her familiar bonds?»

His voice was furious and high-pitched, showing all the annoyance about something that wouldn't have changed no matter what Lyana did. His right hand was around the girl's wrist, while the left was clenched in a fist and shoving in the air.

Meanwhile, Lyana just bowed her head and started tearing. She didn't even sob while the drops crossed her face without a noise. It looked like she was used to that treatment, and even more that she knew what was going to happen.

«How dare you cry now? It's your fault!» the Marquise continued.