"Why the long faces?" Sylvester strolled into the large tent and saw Cardinal Smeaton and his officers looking depressed and devastated.
Thud!
They dropped to their knees and saluted him.
'Scent of hope, and at the same time anger? What did I do to them?' Sylvester noticed the mix of smells and tried to deduce what had happened. 'Did I overwork them?'
"Your Holiness, I ask for forgiveness," Cardinal Smeaton bellowed like a dying rooster. "We tried our best, but despite that, we came across some people who didn't understand the language of kindness; Who did not understand the value of this project; Whose greed is such that even the demons would feel ashamed."
'Ah, the anger is directed to someone else?' Sylvester realized and calmed down.
"Speak clearly, Cardinal. What is the matter?"
