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Just as he had done for her after witnessing the bloodshed, offering her safety and taking her home.
“Leonardo, there are many things that can’t be changed,” she whispered. “Not only can you not change them, but they, when faced with choices, may not always make the right ones.”
Lack of proper education or the pressures of life often make it difficult for people to achieve the lives they truly want.
“They are independent individuals, and the choices they make are simply their own thoughts. It’s not that they don’t need you,” she tightened her grip on his hand, their fingers intertwining to share warmth. “Leonardo, what we should forgive is ourselves.”
“Will you meet them? Please?”
“...Alright,” he nodded, gazing into her eyes. “I trust you.”
Mr. Piero lived in Florence, and in recent years, he had been enjoying life quite a lot.
He had secured a rather decent notary position ten years ago, and with the rise of his son at the Doge’s Palace, his career had steadily advanced, bringing him promotions and raises. Now, he had settled in the city.
When Hedy and Leonardo arrived together, Piero’s face flushed, unsure where to place his hands. Awkward and flustered, he performed a deep bow, looking somewhat embarrassed.
Hedy only smiled, exchanged a few pleasantries with him, and explained that they were visiting after their marriage.
Piero practically wiped down the chair several times before allowing them to sit down.
Leonardo hadn’t had much contact with him in recent years, and now he felt a little out of place.
They drank a few mugs of beer together, and as the old man began to get tipsy, he started to express his true thoughts.
“Leonardo is the child I worry about the most.”
“I remember when I first saw you in his yard, I thought to myself,” old Piero slapped his knee heavily, “This child finally has someone to look after him—at least he won’t go hungry!”
Leonardo was taken aback for a moment, surprised. “You thought that?”
“Otherwise, why would I have urged you to get married? Was it just to avoid the gossip of the neighbors?” Piero slammed his fist on the table. “When you start working, you forget everything, and you’re so distracted by painting, you didn’t even pay for your paint sometimes.”
“How are you going to live your life like this? How can you get by on just a few meals and sleep now and then?”
Leonardo’s expression grew more complex. He refilled his father’s cup and murmured, “Didn’t you care about any of this when you sent me to the estate back then?”
“The estate?” The old man hiccupped, then replied, “Would your grandfather let you go hungry? If I didn’t work hard, where would the money come from to support your education?”
Hedy smiled and stood up, leaving the father and son to talk for a while longer.
By the afternoon, Leonardo came out with red eyes.
Piero was still the same—stubborn, rigid, and fond of lecturing.
But Leonardo’s understanding of his father had changed a lot.
In the end, he truly loved him.
The next day, they took a carriage to Vinci.
Leonardo's mother, Caterina, was still a farmer and didn’t even know about her son's current situation. She had hastily married a farmer and then bore several children for him. Now, she was busy and weary, her hair already turning gray.
Over the years, Leonardo would regularly send her money and goods, but he only visited her once every two or three years. He had nothing to talk about with her, and with his half-siblings, it was as if they were strangers.
The procession of the queen and prince was so grand that when they arrived, nearly everyone in Vinci came out to watch, eager to catch a glimpse of the nobles.
Caterina had no idea that these two were her son and daughter-in-law. She joined the crowd, watching the spectacle like everyone else.
