"Look at my wretched body, even a little thing can crush it half to death."
Metner grimaced and hunched his shoulders - even such a movement took a great toll on him.
"It's so ironic that the plan we carefully crafted is as fragile as my body, and a small rumor almost led to its miscarriage."
The Minister of Foreign Affairs laughed bitterly as he looked at his old friend, whose temples were suddenly graying and whose cheeks were pale and haggard.
Due to his own illness, all the recent stress and criticism were directed at Richelieu. Bearing it all alone, the Chancellor of the kingdom was having an even harder time than the sick Metner. Judging by Richelieu's dispirited expression, the contact plan, which was being forcibly implemented, had hit the rocks beneath the undercurrent and suffered a heavy setback.
"Speak up, Pulesi. I am close to meeting the goddess, and there's no need to hide anything from me anymore."
