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There was no talk of a lord anymore; she was the sole sovereign of this land.
Milan, Venice, and Naples held ambiguous stances, but they did not openly oppose her.
They sensed that she might become a queen like the one in Denmark, and they also feared the unstoppable force of her guns and cannons.
What could possibly blow up a castle, turning centuries-old rocks into dust?!
For this reason, none of them declared their allegiance.
The small, fragile city-states and knightly territories had all been absorbed, leaving a fragmented map with only four major pieces:
The central Italian Empire, Milan and Venice in the north and east, and Naples in the southeast.
Italy's territory was the largest, and it controlled the most ports—Milan, a landlocked state, was at a significant disadvantage and looked quite miserable at this juncture.
The news of a queen being born on the Apennine Peninsula quickly spread across Europe, and people couldn't stop discussing it.
They endlessly debated her relationship with Lorenzo de' Medici, or speculated on where she had conjured so many mercenaries, and how she managed to control them with what kind of sorcery.
Meanwhile, the subjects of these discussions were sitting together in the courtyard of the old palace, opening a half-barrel of red wine.
It had been brewed in the early spring of 1479.
At that time, Hedy had just been released from house arrest and had never expected to become involved in politics or the affairs of the state.
The angels had already taken a large portion of the wine, and along with the few cups she and Botticelli had secretly drunk earlier, there was little left.
Eight people had arrived, and nine glasses were placed on the table. When the wine was poured, not a drop remained, as if it had been perfectly calculated.
"To Lorenzo," Hedy raised her glass.
"—To Lorenzo."
They began reminiscing about the past, recalling the times when they had lived here, savoring the rich and lingering wine as theylaughed softly with nostalgia.
Hedy leaned against Leonardo, lost in thought.
Death is an abstract concept.
It’s like an old friend you’ve spent your days with. Perhaps you were never especially close, and even had disagreements and conflicts with them in the past.
But one day, they simply vanish, as though they have evaporated from the world.
You used to be able to find their office, garden, or concert hall, but now, the familiar figure is gone.
All the memories and habits suddenly seem to have a gap, as though an invisible cliff has appeared within your heart.
She hadn’t gotten used to it yet.
It had nothing to do with love or faith, but more to do with habit.
Leonardo understood her recent quietness and melancholy. He gently embraced her, waiting for her to gradually come around.
It was at that moment, Raphael, slightly tipsy, suddenly asked, “Your Majesty, when do you and Mr. da Vinci plan to get married?”
Hedy blinked in surprise, snapping out of her reverie.
Little Raphael had grown quite fast and loved to laugh and sing.
