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That pleasant voice, flowing with the poetry, was as beautiful as the Po River itself.
Hedy was lost in a trance, her fair hand still gently stirring the rotating fallen leaves at the edge of the water.
She then remembered an old poem by an American poetess, and her smile softened even more.
“There is a love called love at first sight, sudden, clear, and determined.”
Her voice was low and magnetic, as if she were telling a story.
“Then there is a slower kind of love, perhaps even more beautiful: a quiet yearning, a faint entanglement, now near, now distant, hazy and unclear…”
Leonardo looked at her, resting against the boat's edge, his gaze warm and smiling.
Atalante had indeed been right about some things.
Over the past few months, he had refused to acknowledge these feelings.
But when he gazed at her, his heart would be lit and burned like a candle's flame.
This… must be love.
He was in love with her.
The scenery along the Po River was beautiful, with farmers and their children fishing by the banks.
When they disembarked to explore, a farm woman, who hadonce been a maid, suddenly recognized Leonardo and excitedly expressed her admiration for his artwork. She also offered them a large cup of malt beer and freshly baked small fish.
The farmer, clearly having heard of Leonardo's name, eagerly pulled his young son over.
"Sir, are you in need of any apprentices at your workshop?!" he called out, raising his voice. "My son might be a little young, but he can help carry water buckets!"
Hedy instinctively looked at the three- or four-year-old boy and noticed the bruises on his arms.
The little boy looked innocent and angelic, with fair skin and slightly curly hair, almost as if an angel from a fresco had descended to Earth.
If only he weren't wearing such tattered clothes, or if his elbows and legs weren't marked with the welts of being whipped by thorned twigs, he would have looked even more adorable.
In this era, there was no distinction between child labor and other work; people struggled just to survive.
This child would stay here, stumbling through farm work, and would inevitably get a beating from his own parents.
Hedy sighed and exchanged a glance with Leonardo.
He hesitated for a moment, but then agreed.
"What is your name?"
The little boy looked at them shyly, his eyes watery and innocent like a baby bird.
"Da... Daoreno," he replied softly.
Hedy nodded and then asked the farmer’s name. She learned that he was a tenant from a nearby vineyard.
When the woman learned that they had a spare seat at the table, she looked visibly relieved.
The farmer repeatedly thanked them and even gave them a freshly caught pike.
On the way back, Hedy couldn't help but laugh a little—
