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The servant frowned, then waved his hand, releasing her. He turned and rode off toward the Doge's Palace.
"The lord himself has seen your painting," Piero said, rubbing his hands. "He said your composition is very ingenious—he even praised how lifelike you made the figures. I mean, he absolutely loves it!"
"Mm." Da Vinci, absorbed in his study of the beef bile, replied distractedly, "Is there anything else?"
"Listen, he wants us to meet him today—now, right now," Piero said seriously. "Stop looking at that bottle, and come with me."
"He wants to see me?" Da Vinci raised an eyebrow. "What, does he want to invite me to live in the Doge's Palace?"
Piero was unconcerned. "Don't you want to go? Botticelli's already been invited, why can't you?"
"Did you forget what happened in April?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, the atmosphere seemed to suddenly drop.
The father and son both fell silent for a moment, silently skipping over that topic.
"The government has opened another brothel for you guys. You should go check it out sometime," Piero sighed. "Come on, the lord is waiting for us."
Da Vinci rubbed his forehead and packed away his painting supplies.
"I'm not gay, I don't need to go to a brothel."
The only response was a dismissive nasal sound from Piero.
They took a carriage to the Doge's Palace, and with the servant’s guidance, they passed through hallways and corridors adorned with oil paintings, making their way deeper into the palace.
Florence had been under the protection of the Medici family for a century, and the current ruler had succeeded his grandfather at the age of twenty. His methods were swift and decisive.
He was skilled in balancing relationships with neighboring countries, maintained a harmonious rapport with the pope, and generously funded numerous painters and sculptors, making him a renowned and lavish patron of the arts.
As Da Vinci entered the palace, although there was a slight sense of resistance in his heart, he couldn't help but glance up at the vast collection of art around him.
His eyes immediately landed on Botticelli's famous The Annunciation, and with a raised eyebrow, he quickly walked away.
Piero was stopped at the door, leaving Da Vinci to enter the lord’s office alone.
The room was not very bright. In the dim light, a lamp illuminated the long pinewood table, with attendants standing on either side.
"Mr. Da Vinci," the lord said, closing the document in his hand, speaking slowly. "It’s good to finally meet you in person."
The young man raised his gaze slightly, his tone neither humble nor arrogant. "Greetings, my lord."
However, the conversation soon fell into a routine exchange about art and other trivial matters.
Da Vinci, fighting the urge to yawn, managed to contain it.
"By the way," Lorenzo casually remarked, "I recently acquired this ring on the black market. Take a look."
An attendant quickly brought over a velvet cushion, on which lay a diamond ring.
The band was made of white gold, and the large diamond was adorned with petal-like rubies on the side, making it look both delicate and exquisite.
From a distance, it resembled a budding flower, like a cyclamen from Greece.
Although Da Vinci didn’t understand why Lorenzo was showing him the ring, he still examined it carefully.
“This diamond has fifty-eight facets,” he murmured. “How is that possible?”
