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He quickly erased the skewed line, cleared his throat, and said, “Just a friend... Why do you ask that?”
Isabella gazed at the pencil, which was swaying like a sparrow’s tail, still not quite understanding. "Miss Medici is so wonderful. Don’t you want to be her lover?"
"She's not married yet," the artist corrected. "And a lover is not a very honorable position."
"Then she must have many suitors," the young lady said, swinging her legs in the chair. "How many have you seen?"
Da Vinci lowered his head and counted for a moment, uncertain. “Twelve?”
From minor lords to knights and wealthy merchants, recently in Milan, there had been people holding gifts, left waiting outside.
As Botticelli had said, people have an innate perception of beautiful things and an unconscious desire to possess them.
The young lady cupped her face and exclaimed in admiration, nodding seriously. "She's so amazing, she really shouldn't marry just anyone."
Da Vinci paused, lowering his head and smiling as he continued to paint the portrait.
Yes, she had already said it herself—she would never fall in love with anyone.
When he thought of Hedy, his heart felt like a robin, nervously circling the bushes, as though it had just smelled blueberries. He wanted to probe further but dared not take another step.
Meanwhile, the subject of their conversation was wandering in the garden, unable to stop sneezing twice.
...It’s already autumn, how can there still be pollen in the air?
Hedy had made an extra sketch and handed it to Atalante, asking him to help her find that plant.
The garden was vast and exquisitely designed, with even the layout of the hedged maze seeming perfect for a film shoot.
In her youth, she had played the role of the French queen, and now, waking up in the Middle Ages, there was always a feeling as though she had stepped into some set piece.
Hedy pondered aimlessly, when suddenly her fingertip seemed to brush against something smooth and small.
She paused, crouched down, and parted the mint and daisy leaves, finally spotting something that resembled it.
Was this what litmus looked like five hundred years ago?
“Atalante— I think I found it.”
The young man responded with a shout and hurried over to examine it, looking somewhat surprised. "So this is it? I thought it would be something really expensive."
He said an Italian word, one that sounded rather unfamiliar to Hedy.
“This stuff grows all over the place. Are you looking for it to make medicine?”
Hedy asked him to gather more of it and, in the meantime, grabbed a glass bottle. After crushing the leaves and adding the juice, she left the mixture to sit in water.
By the next day, the water in the bottle had changed color—
A tranquil, noble, translucent purple.
It was so beautiful that one could almost be tempted to dye an entire new outfit with it.
Hedy had slept restlessly the night before, but at that moment, seeing the solution, she clutched her face in sheer joy. She quickly changed her clothes and went to fetch Da Vinci to show him.
“It’s purple!” Da Vinci exclaimed, looking utterly astonished. He curiously leaned in to smell it.
There was absolutely no foul odor, and in fact, he could detect a faint, herbal bitterness.
