Page 17 of DATE
"Let’s go." Da Vinci spoke curtly without looking back. "I don’t have time for idle chatter with him."
Mr. Botticelli, with a flourish, bowed and kissed Hedy’s hand, then winked with his light green eyes. "Do visit my workshop sometime, I would love to paint your portrait."
Hedy glanced at Da Vinci, who rolled his eyes and continued walking, clearly not planning to wait for her.
She waved a quick goodbye to Botticelli and hurriedly quickened her pace to catch up with him.
For some reason, the name Botticelli sounded very familiar.
Had she heard it at the Uffizi Gallery?
But who would name their child "small barrel"?
"Mr. Da Vinci," Hedy, in her high-heeled shoes, felt a bit unsteady, much like she used to when walking in small heels. She twisted her ankle slightly and nearly fell. "Wait for me!"
Da Vinci quickly turned, grabbing her to steady her. She clung to his arm for a moment, the jars and bottles in the basket clinking like bells.
His brown eyes, dark as amber, looked at her with a trace of apology, but his tone was still somewhat annoyed.
"Don’t walk so close to that man."
I only spoke a few words to him...
Hedy winced as she moved her ankle, quietly hissing in pain. "I think I twisted it."
Da Vinci didn’t argue and let her lean on him, slowing his pace as they continued walking.
"Do you dislike him?"
He walked in silence for a while before responding with a quiet, "Not particularly."
"Well... can I still visit his workshop?" Hedy asked softly, testing the waters. "Just to take a look, I swear I won’t sit down and model for him."
Da Vinci shot her a glance, clearly not very happy about it.
But Hedy, limping with the effort of walking in the heels, still tried her best to keep up with him.
He was silent for a moment, then took the lunch basket from her, holding it along with the paintbox, continuing to support her as they walked forward.
"Go after Sunday mass, but we need to be back by noon."
"Alright," Hedy couldn't help but smile. "Looks like you don't dislike him that much after all."
"Don’t push it, just don't go."
"I won’t, I won’t!"
CHAPTER 2
The streets of Florence stretched out like the horizontal and vertical lines of a chessboard, with the ochre-colored rooftops resembling squares of various sizes.
By late night, the city took on a dark golden glow, with the dome of the Florence Cathedral resembling a solitary sun sleeping quietly above.
The pigeons that usually circled the skies had long since returned to their nests, and the citrus trees on the rooftops breathed quietly under the moonlight. Even the night watchman's hounds lazily wagged their tails as they roamed.
Unable to sleep, Hedy got up and began writing.
She took the little money she had earned and exchanged it for paper, pens, and ink, starting to recall many of the things from her past life.
