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Once he got busy, he became so focused that he couldn’t even hear Hedy speaking to him.
The human body had more than 200 bones, and the skull, torso,and limb bones were all carefully and intricately matched.
Hedy sat next to the table, watching as the servant lit the candles and poured wine before leaving. After a long time, she finally turned her gaze back to Da Vinci, who was piecing together the human body like a puzzle.
"You... really don’t believe in the divine, do you?"
In this era, nearly everyone was a fervent believer.
There were no impressionists, no abstract artists—only endless paintings honoring gods.
They believed that humans were born with original sin, that life was for atonement and suffering, and some even inflicted self-flagellation as penance.
Only through such suffering could one ascend to heaven after death.
But Da Vinci, he was different.
"Me?" Da Vinci was examining a rib, still wearing the gloves Hedy had given him.
"Probably," he chuckled. "Compared to those miracles like resurrection or divine birth, I care more about things like this."
The flow of blood, the function of the heart, the transformation of minerals, the structure of machinery.
Perhaps these things were the real miracles of the world.
So she spent the entire afternoon watching him piece together bones, even putting on gloves herself.
Compared to the flashy trinkets at the gatherings, the leather masks and glasses in the shop, it seemed that assembling human bones became rather fascinating.
By the time she snapped out of her thoughts, they were already starting to position the poor woman's thighs and calves.
—This was definitely not a good obsession.
Hedy had been distracted for quite a while, and Da Vinci’s progress wasn’t going very smoothly either—he couldn’t quite figure out the origin or destination of some of the broken bones.They seemed indistinguishable from the leftovers of bones gnawed by dogs.
"By the way," she instinctively started a conversation, "Madame Medici’s body is still so healthy. It's truly a miracle."
How strong must a woman be to give birth to nine children without stopping?
Da Vinci, comparing two different finger bones to the candlelight, casually replied, "She and Mr. Lorenzo have always been very good friends."
But weren’t they a married couple?
Hedy hummed softly and continued adjusting the tibia.
She suddenly began to recall—had those cosmetic surgeons, with no experience, ever pulled and liposuctioned her skin just like herself today, learning from the first time and getting better with practice?
"Back then, when Mr. Lorenzo first became the lord, he was still quite young," Da Vinci said, also bored, sharing some old stories with the outsider. "And with several other families lurking around, the Medici couldn’t fully establish themselves. They were always at risk of losing power and wealth."
"...So?" Hedy thought of a typical move, "Political marriage?"
"Yes."
Clarice Orsini was from a foreign land, and her family had a strong military force.
The Medici family, on the other hand, was a banking family, with vast wealth.
When the two families came together, it was a powerful alliance that further strengthened Florence.
