Minister of Foreign Affairs Metne was wrestling with a pile of disaster relief plans, applications, charts, text, and numbers. His initial shock and lament soon made way for gravity and unease. His political ally and close friend Richelieu silently sat on a couch beside him, without any motion or expression, like a wax figure on display.
"I can't make a judgment."
Having flipped the last printed page shut, Metne rested wearily against the back of his chair.
"Whoever came up with this plan must have gone beyond ordinary intelligence. If truly a 21-year-old businessman came up with this entire scheme... poor old Pleisi, you and I are simply second-rate."
The grim-faced cardinal nodded his head in silent agreement. He recalled his period of glory at the age of 21, then looked at his deteriorating appearance now... The feelings of debasement and powerlessness assailed him, but this was not the time for two old men to indulge in nostalgia.
