Page 129 of DATE
"Sure."
This great director of the Renaissance had been busy for quite some time, overseeing the mechanical controls of the background, urging actors to change costumes, and after the performance, thanking the duke and Mr. Sforza for their patronage.
By the time the night came to an end, he was starving.
Following the scent of bread and wine, he made his way over, only to find his maid sipping her drink, lost in thought.
For some reason, he suddenly decided to put food and drink aside and, while the crowd hadn't fully dispersed, take her out into the sea of people to dance a volta together.
The sound of a plucking piano and flutes intertwined, and amidst the noise, the faint laughter of young ladies could be heard.
Hedy, somewhat unskilled, followed his steps, her gaze instinctively drawn to his eyes.
I am... dancing with Leonardo da Vinci.
Dancing a dance from five hundred years ago.
His eyes reminded her of amber—clear and gentle, with a faint glow.
A person like him, like a boy, like a young man, yet possessing everything a mature man should—elegant speech, handsome appearance, and a clear and perceptive mind.
Someone announced that the last dance was about to begin, and the musicians paused for a second before simultaneously playing The Blue Danube.
“I brought your song here,” he looked down at her, his voice low and magnetic.
“It really is beautiful.”
Hedy spun around once, gazing at the heaven-like dome, half embracing his shoulder. “How does it feel to dance with a maid?”
“Quite nice,” Leonardo raised an eyebrow, “It’s my honor.”
As the ball came to a close, the first half of the night was nearly over.
They returned to the floor where the guests were staying, bidding each other a simple farewell at the door.
“Goodnight, Mr. Da Vinci.”
“It’s Leonardo,” he corrected gently.
Hedy smiled, her light blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight like the Aegean Sea.
“Goodnight, Leonardo.”
They had stayed in Milan for nearly two months, and when they prepared to leave, it was already mid-July.
Returning was always a good thing—
She could continue using the Medici family’s private bath, and it was time to leave the vacation state behind and get back to studying history and maps.
On the way back, Da Vinci had already filled six notebooks with ideas and was still organizing his new inspirations.
Perhaps it was the bumpy journey, but he finally started to feel dizzy, putting his notes down and turning to look at the scenery outside.
Atalante was still practicing on the lyre, the melody broken and off-key.
Da Vinci helped him adjust his wrist and finger placement, then began to chat with Hedy as he listened to the music.
“I’ve considered settling in Milan in the future.”
