CHAPTER 1 #4
It felt so shameful, and she could hear the sounds of people laughing and chatting inside, with no one seeming to mind the mixed bathing.
But having lived for decades in modern civilization, it was impossible for her to simply set aside her moral discomfort and walk in.
Da Vinci, thinking she had some unspoken reason, comforted her briefly and then went inside himself.
Hedy stood there, and as the burlap curtain was lifted, she peeked inside.
There were many naked bodies moving around, with various genitalia quite visible, and a male doctor was cupping a small woman’s back.
She covered her mouth, standing there for a long time. A graceful young woman with her bathing supplies passed by and gave Hedy a curious look.
Miss Kiesler stood in silence for a while, then resolutely turned and walked away.
She would rather chop wood and start a fire herself than bathe with a bunch of strange men.
And she definitely didn’t want to see Leonardo da Vinci’s naked body—no matter how famous he was.
She returned to the workshop, holding her small basket. When she looked up, she saw a reasonably well-dressed middle-aged man standing there.
"Are you... looking for Mr. da Vinci?" Hedy thought he might be a client wanting a portrait, and with a slightly stiff Latin, she said, "He’s at the public bathhouse, he’ll be back later."
The man with the big beard looked her up and down for a moment, then asked, "And you are?"
"I’m his newly hired maid," Hedy explained. "If you’d like to leave your name and purpose, I’ll let him know when he returns."
The middle-aged man looked at her with a suspicious expression, not responding to her words.
Before Hedy could say anything else, a familiar voice called out from a distance.
"Father?"
Da Vinci had waited in the bathhouse for a while, but when he didn’t see the young maid following him in, he quickly finished his wash, dressed, and headed back.
Piero turned to look at his son, then motioned toward the maid.
"Explain?"
"It’s not what you think..." Da Vinci swiftly opened the door and gestured for him to enter the courtyard. "She’s just a maid."
The workshop wasn’t large, and even though Hedy was outside sweeping the leaves in the courtyard, she could hear many things quite clearly.
It seemed that old Da Vinci had some doubts about the situation and gave his son several pieces of advice. Then they began discussing an order.
The order appeared to be from some nobleman in the city, as old Da Vinci spoke with a tone of anxiety, using respectful language multiple times.
However, his son didn’t seem to care much, responding in a rather indifferent manner.
"That’s the church at Palazzo Vecchio!" Piero emphasized. "If you keep acting like you used to, you won’t get a penny!"
"Would you like a cup of citrus potion?" Da Vinci casually shook the glass.
"Keep track of time!" The older man was clearly not in the mood for small talk, looking quite worried. "I’ll come back in a few days to remind you!"
Once he left in a hurry, Da Vinci finished the sweet potion in his glass and began to tidy up the remaining paints.
Hedy brought over the dinner she had made, and with curiosity, she asked, "Is he your father?"
"Yeah, he thinks you’re my mistress," Da Vinci calmly said as he twirled his pasta. "I’ve explained it to him already."
What?
Seeing her look surprised, the young man with brown eyes explained slowly, "I’m an illegitimate child, so he jumped to conclusions and warned me not to do anything foolish."
So, being an illegitimate child wasn’t something shameful in this era?
Hedy watched him with such natural ease, and suddenly felt her entire value system crumbling.
In this era, mixed-gender public nudity wasn’t a big deal, being an illegitimate child could be said so openly—what else was there that she didn’t know?
"By the way, next time, can you go to the apothecary and buy a mummy for me?" Da Vinci thought for a moment, then spoke again. "You've been here for half a month already, and you can just call me Leonardo from now on."
Hedy swallowed a bite of her pasta and repeated slowly, "A... mummy?"
"Yes, for painting. I’m running low on material," he said casually. "Make sure to pick one with good, full flesh, it’ll look better when painted."
She tried to keep her composure, nodding awkwardly.
In reality, given her true age, she had witnessed many things.
She had lived through World War II, seen the rise and fall of MGM, and wasn’t easily shocked by most things.
But the word mummy was unmistakable.
That night, she tossed and turned in bed, even starting to think about how she would bring a mummy back.
What in the world were these madmen planning?
And why in the world would mummies be sold in an apothecary?!
The next day, Hedy quickly tidied the courtyard, cleaned the room, and cut some black bread to serve as breakfast. She nervously took the rough cloth and headed to the apothecary.
When she had been familiarizing herself with the area earlier, a kind local had explained that the doctors, apothecaries, and painters were all part of the same guild.
Her master had mentioned that the medicinal herbs were also used as pigments for painting.
The wooden sign, written in an elegant but somewhat hasty script, read "Alejo Apothecary", and inside, rows of shelves held many jars and bottles, along with other unidentifiable items.
There were piles of spices in small compartments, and she could barely make out small fennel and onions.
In several glass jars, there were snails still wriggling, and an old woman was taking one of the jars, preparing to pay.
Here, you could buy wine, dead owls, and all sorts of strange herbs.
"Mr. Alejo?" Hedy tentatively called out, holding her purse of money.
A red-haired merchant walked over quickly, sizing her up. "What can I help you with, beautiful lady?"
The word made her uncomfortable.
"Um... a mummy," Hedy whispered.
"Oh! We just got in some new stock!" The merchant's expression didn't change at all, as if she were simply buying a purple cabbage.
He flipped through the wooden shelves, casually pulling out a small box and handing it to her. "This is from the chest. Will this work for you?"
"Y-yes... it's fine," Hedy said, almost feeling like the box was too hot to touch. She quickly stuffed it into the cloth bundle. "How much is it?"
"You must have a headache," the red-haired man laughed. "Grind it into powder and mix it with water." He grinned. "Such a beautiful lady, would you grant me a kiss?"
Hedy paused for a moment, then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
She needed to save as much money as possible, to make some future plans.
In this unfamiliar place, only silver coins were truly useful for survival.
Over the past few nights, she had hidden her earrings under tree roots, placed rings inside roof tiles, and even made a quick trip outside the city to bury the last piece of jewelry in an isolated spot.
Returning to the twentieth century seemed impossible now, so she had to be cautious at every turn.
That one kiss saved her twenty soldi, equivalent to forty days of her wages.
Hedy quickly bought everything on the list and hurried back to the workshop to report.
The great artist had finally started on his sketches, lifting his pen and glancing at her as he raised an eyebrow.
"Did you get it?"
Hedy, nearly dropping the box in her rush, placed it quickly in front of him. "Got it."
"How much did that crooked merchant charge you?" Da Vinci opened the box and looked at the piece inside. "The quality is pretty good."
"He..." Hedy hesitated for a moment, then decided to tell the truth. "He only asked me to kiss him."
Da Vinci, who had been looking down at the piece of mummy, suddenly chuckled when he heard this. "He would ask for something like that—you're definitely beautiful. A kiss was too cheap for him."
Hedy froze for a moment, thinking to herself that this man was surprisingly easygoing.
She suddenly remembered how, at nineteen, whenever she walked into a barber shop, everyone would instinctively fall silent, and countless gazes would linger on her, as if unable to look away.
Her elderly mindset shifted slightly, and she began to look back.
In her later years, she had grown used to the media's ridicule and mockery. She had closed herself off, and the reason she rarely left the house was because of excessive plastic surgery, which had shattered her mental state long ago.
Now, even though she truly had returned to her youthful form, she still unconsciously viewed herself as a clumsy old woman, and looking in the mirror felt strange.
But when Da Vinci complimented her, she suddenly felt much lighter.
I... I really am a young girl now.
And a beautiful one, at that.
"Then... should I give you those twenty soldi back?" she asked instinctively.
"No need, keep them," Da Vinci shook the box in his hand. "This is the largest piece of mummy I've ever gotten."
After spending some time together, the two of them had gradually grown more comfortable with each other.
Leonardo was only twenty-six, living mostly in his own little world. Occasionally, friends would come to visit, and he spoke with warmth and kindness.
Hedy helped him organize the easel and other tools, but she couldn't help but ask another question. "Sir, may I see your paints?"
"You like these things?" Da Vinci, having grown tired of painting and wanting to rest, generously stepped aside. "Here they are."
It was clear there were no modern paints, with tubes or such—six or seven jars were grouped together, each containing different pigments.
Hedy suddenly remembered that modern paints were chemical compounds, but back then, chemistry as a science hadn’t even formed yet. How did people paint?
Seeing her so focused on the pigments, Da Vinci leaned in to explain each one.
"This is Turkish red, imported from the Ottoman Empire. It’s probably some kind of madder root ground into powder."