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However, he clearly didn’t have the skill, and the only piece he worked on—the bread—ended up looking like a hard, stone-like object. In the end, it was Michelangelo who helped correct the light and shadows.
In similar works, the disciples of Jesus were typically seated in a row, but in this painting, the composition had been refined andthe scene dramatized. A melancholic and sorrowful Jesus sat alone at the center, with the disciples scattered on either side, creating a sense of judgment and chaos.
Hedy stood quietly in front of the mural, faintly imagining how that brown-haired, brown-eyed handsome man must have wandered and pondered here.
Perhaps his fingers were stained with paint and egg yolk, or maybe he had a piece of bread in his mouth and spent the entire afternoon forgetting to chew.
The painting was so solemn and dignified, yet its creator was so gentle and delicate.
She truly missed him.
The fleets of five nations began to gradually assemble and set sail toward the Americas, and the first bell of 1490 rang on time, as though announcing the arrival of a new era.
The Queen instructed her subordinates to test the waters with Spain and France, and the developments unfolded almost exactly as she had anticipated.
She compiled a mail-order list of luxury goods from Italy and sent a private fleet northward from Pisa, to peddle the goods they were carrying.
The hawks of Queen Isabella eagerly emptied the shelves of jewelry, clocks, and silk, checking off almost every item on the mail-order list.
Indulgence was indeed an enjoyable affair—but it came at a cost.
After receiving the financial reports, Hedy swiftly called for more fleets to carry even more luxury goods to gather wealth.
The taxes on the ships were intentionally reduced, leading many merchants to flock in, eager to profit from the opportunity.
"It seems like you want to provoke an internal rebellion?" Niccolo noticed this detail, going through the rough expense reports of France and Spain in recent years, his tone a little smug. "It seems a certain country is overextended."
"Not enough," Hedy thought for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Aren't our pepper crops almost ready?"
"The first batch was already harvested," he paused, showing an incredulous expression. "Aren't you going to leave some for the royal family?"
"We have decades to enjoy pepper juice," she winked. "Let's sell the first batch entirely ground into powder to them. Remember to set up a supervisory body."
Niccolo let out a long, low sound and suddenly froze.
He quickly packed up his documents, turned, and hurriedly left.
"Wait—" She stood up to call after him, only to be met with those amber eyes. "Leonardo?!"
The man quickly walked over and enveloped her in his arms.
"Hedy..." He tightened his embrace, inhaling the scent of hyacinth in her hair. "I’m back."
Hedy stood frozen, grasping his hand, intertwining their fingers once more.
"Leonardo," she whispered softly, "I feel like I want to hide you away."
"We haven't seen each other in four months," she lifted her head, reaching up to stroke his stubbled chin. "It feels like it's been four years."
The man sighed, slowing his pace of speech. "Then let's hide together."
In these past few months, he had once considered taking her away from here, to steal back all the time they had given to the empire.
They pressed their foreheads together and laughed, their eyes lowering as they exchanged a long, lingering kiss.
Florence still hadn't seen snow, and the continuous light rain made it hard to tell what season it truly was.
Hedy had originally intended to visit Lorenzo's grave alone, but after much thought, she decided to bring many of his old friendsalong, as well as Lady Clarice and the children.
