CHAPTER 1 #3
"Isn’t there wine?" da Vinci frowned. "Why do you need to drink water? What if you get sick?"
Hedy paused with the spoon, suddenly realizing something.
It was the Middle Ages now.
People probably didn’t even know what bacteria were—
"Sir," she took a deep breath, deciding to explain the situation clearly, or she would be seen as a madwoman and kicked out.
"The impurities in the water will disappear once it’s boiled."
She looked him in the eyes, continuing, "You have pale skin, and I see small petechiae on your wrists and in several places. You should eat some citrus fruits or lemons."
Da Vinci furrowed his brow, studying her for a moment before finally speaking.
"Where did you hear about all this?"
"Well... I heard it from the alchemist next door," Hedy replied quickly. "There was an alchemist living near the family I once served."
Her answer was clever and perfect.
For the past few centuries in Europe, even when she was born, people had been fascinated by the existence of alchemists.
Even famous scientists like Newton, who discovered gravity, and many others, couldn't escape the allure of this mysterious science in their later years.
Not only that, but royal courts were also deeply enamored with alchemists, often paying large sums of money to hire them to research their secrets.
The legends of turning stone into gold, the fountain of youth, and universal elixirs drove the nobility wild.
When da Vinci heard her answer, he was surprised but also seemed to believe it.
"I’ve seen him prepare potions," Hedy raised an eyebrow. "If you have citrus fruits or lemons here, I could make you a batch."
Also known as lemon juice.
She had noticed that his mental state didn’t seem very good, and his diet had clearly been quite selective. He likely lacked vitamin C, which explained some of the symptoms she observed.
Da Vinci asked some more details with skepticism, but Hedy deftly dodged each of them.
Having been a screenwriter, a director, and having acted in dozens of scripts, she was quite skilled at speaking on these matters.
After a simple dinner, they each went about their tasks.
Hedy borrowed the Bible that was placed in the living room and began to refresh the knowledge she had forgotten over the years.
She sat not too far from da Vinci, and when she grew tired, she glanced over to observe what he was doing.
Although the young man was a famous painter in history, at this moment, his thoughts didn’t seem to be focused on painting.
He was sketching designs for flying machines, calculating various trajectories and numbers, and writing long analyses.
To his right, there was a stack of papers—again, these were all manuscripts related to engineering and medicine.
It seemed this was a medical student researching engineering in an oil painting studio.
Hedy, seeing that it wasn’t fully dark yet, quickly skimmed through the Bible and then went to make him some lemon juice and pasta.
A little honey, mixed with lemon and clean water, was poured into a ceramic bottle, which she sealed by covering it with several layers of cloth and tying it with string.
As for the pasta...
She wasn’t very skilled at making Italian butterfly-shaped pasta, and back at home, she had a machine with handles for that.
The wheat here was quite tough, and if she made bread out of the flour, it would probably be impossible to even bite through.
Hedy pondered for a moment, then decided to refer to the shapes she had seen earlier in the day. She kneaded the dough, then cut and rolled it flat.
By the time she finished washing up and was about to return to rest, the workshop was still lit.
Da Vinci was deeply focused on designing the energy system for his flying machine, with a bottle of sweet-smelling potion placed beside him.
"Try this," Hedy raised an eyebrow and smiled. "An alchemist’s secret formula."
He turned his head, noticing her delicate eyebrows arched like crescent moons.
Her Eastern, glass-like light blue eyes sparkled with amusement, and her flowing long hair looked both elegant and unique.
Da Vinci instinctively observed her almost perfect facial features, pausing for a moment before replying.
After Hedy left with the candle, he suddenly remembered something. He flipped through the papers and hurriedly began sketching practice drafts.
The days slowly started falling into a routine.
Although Hedy was a foreigner, her adaptability was impressive. In just a few days, she had become familiar with the local women and even helped them dry pasta.
The craftsmen on the street also got to know her, and some of the kinder older men would even compliment her on her beauty.
Yet, occasionally, when she looked at her reflection in the water and saw that long-forgotten young face, Hedy would feel a sense of confusion.
She had aged for decades, and now, suddenly, transforming back into a young girl felt somewhat disorienting.
At this moment, she was Hedy Kiesler.
Living in another time and space, bidding farewell to nearly all her past memories.
She was no longer connected to MGM, no longer part of Hollywood, and there were no more relentless paparazzi stalking her.
One day, she bought some tomatoes and olives and, on her way home, ran into the chubby woman who lived across the street.
"Speaking of which—how did you end up working for that man?" The older woman’s voice dropped, and she lowered her tone, clearly startled. "Don’t you know who he is?"
He is... a famous artist?
Hedy looked at her in confusion, her expression one of a young girl who seemed utterly unaware.
Sofia, in her eyes, looked like a lamb being deceived by the devil.
"Kiesler, the painter. He’s been arrested before!"
Sofia emphasized the words, leaning closer to Hedy’s ear and speaking seriously. "An anonymous letter said he was a sodomite!"
If it weren’t for his connections with the Medici family, he would have never been bailed out!
Just thinking about it makes me shiver!
Hedy held back a smile and nodded seriously, “I really don’t know anything about that. Thank you for the warning.”
"The Pope himself said that sodomy is a pact with the devil!" Sofia took a step back, looking at her sympathetically. "You better find another place to work, or you won’t be able to enter heaven after you die."
"Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding?" Hedy said patiently, trying to reassure her. "Thank you, I’ll be careful."
No wonder he was eager to hire a maid—it was probably to avoid suspicion.
She glanced back at the dome of the Florence Cathedral, smiling as she held the corner of her skirt and walked back.
What a joke, she thought. Are there few homosexuals in Florence?
The city's name, Florenzer, was a slang term for a homosexual in her native language. From ancient Greece to the Renaissance, many famous figures had been accused of this crime.
Who knew how much of what these anonymous people said was true?
If the accusation was indeed true, it wouldn’t be a problem for her.
At least her safety was much more assured now.
Hedy, holding her bundle, returned to the small courtyard, suddenly remembering what Leonardo had said the day they met.
"I have no interest in women, I won’t harm you."
...Perhaps, he had really been caught by the night watchmen with some kind of evidence?
Da Vinci led a simple and humble life.
Their table had no meat, no fish—black bread with vegetables was the norm.
Hedy worked hard to improve their living conditions, and occasionally, she would observe her master's work.
Strictly speaking... he hardly worked.
Although several women and nobles came to him for portraits, he didn’t take on many commissions, and when he did, he worked extremely slowly.
Sometimes, after finally starting a sketch, he would leave it aside after a short time, then go back to studying the mechanisms of gears and firearms.
So, his poverty was somewhat understandable...
The only upside to living in this era was that taking a bath wasn’t frowned upon.
When she directed The Love of the Three Queens, the historical consultant had mentioned the appalling hygiene conditions during Napoleon’s time.
The French considered bathing one of the causes of illness, and some people might have only bathed a handful of times in their entire life, relying on perfume to mask their body odor.
But during the Renaissance, at least taking a bath wasn’t considered disgraceful, and even if people found out, they wouldn’t think of you as a madman.
It was just... Leonardo didn’t seem to bathe much either.
Hedy kept her curiosity in check, but she hadn’t noticed Leonardo doing anything like boiling water or fetching water at night.
Her curiosity kept pushing her to ask, and eventually, she couldn’t resist.
"I forgot to tell you," Da Vinci finally remembered and spoke seriously, "The public bathhouse is very close. It's only a ten-minute walk. Want to go tomorrow?"
Wait—public bathhouse?
Hedy suddenly remembered how she’d been struggling every day to start a fire to boil water and felt a little embarrassed.
"Do you prefer a bath in a tub or a steam bath?" Leonardo asked, tidying up the papers on his desk, speaking casually. "Once we finish this painting, we can go to a more upscale bathhouse. They even have musicians playing the lyre."
Hedy let out a long sigh of relief and gratefully agreed.
However, when they actually went out the next day, everything was laid bare before her.
It was indeed very crowded.
The hygiene conditions were quite good, and there was hot water available for bathing.
"So... is it a mixed bath?" she asked awkwardly. "Do people bathe in the nude?"
Leonardo had already stepped into the bathhouse, but when he saw her still standing outside, he looked at her in confusion.
"Is there a problem?"
Hedy stood at the entrance, clearly frozen in place.
Even before stepping inside, she had already seen several half-naked, even fully naked men and women draped in towels, laughing and walking in.