This very afternoon would be time for the cardinals to meet and discuss their stance on Richard’s movements. Busquets steeled himself and got a bowl of clear water, dipping a finger into it and writing Richard’s words down on the table. Staring at them, he racked his brains over and over until the water dried, at which point he dipped his finger in and wrote once more. This occurred more than ten times before he understood the full implication of those words, barely able to suppress his shivering.
Taking out some black bread and finishing it off alongside the rest of the water, the new cardinal finished up his lunch. With some time left till the meeting, he closed his eyes for a short nap; he would face an arduous battle very soon.
The bed was made of hardwood, and the jute sheets were rough and uncomfortable. However, this simple lifestyle was what drove...