CHAPTER 6 #2
She had to be able to write fluent articles, so she had to prepare thoroughly and not slack off.
As usual, Dechio brought her some orange juice, but just as she was about to leave, she was suddenly stopped.
"What's wrong with your elbow?"
The maid was somewhat surprised, clearly not expecting Hedy to be concerned about her.
Hedy leaned over and took a look, noticing a long scar. "What happened?"
"I can’t see well at night," the maid answered honestly. "I got caught on a nail while walking in the dark."
... Night blindness?
Hedy paused for a moment, observing the maid’s skin and eyes. Her skin was dry, her complexion a bit pale, and she didn't seem to be in the best condition.
"It’s an old problem, nothing to worry about," Dechio said, a little stammering as she spoke, clearly unaccustomed to receiving concern. "My family also has trouble seeing at night."
"...Carrots can solve that problem," Hedy suddenly said. "And animal liver."
She immediately went to make carrot juice and handed it to the maid, urging her to drink it all.
Half a month passed, and remarkably, Dechio's eyes and skin had improved greatly.
The maid never imagined she would be treated with such kindness.
Both of them knew well that they were in a relationship of watchfulness—one watching, the other being watched. Yet, even so, the alchemist still took care of her in this way...
"You should remember to stay away from Mr. Botticelli," Dechio said one day, in a serious tone.
"So many young women can't help but fall for him, and they end up heartbroken."
Hedy blinked, sensing that the maid might have misunderstood something.
The reason she had been spending more time in the backyard recently... was actually to check on the pair of rabbits.
"...Why?" she finally asked.
The maid hesitated for a while before speaking, revealing what little she knew.
"He and Mr. Lorenzo... both once deeply loved a lady."
"She has been dead for many years now."
This bit of information was a lot to process.
Hedy froze for a few seconds, trying to make sense of the details.
First, Botticelli and the lord both loved the same woman.
Second, the woman was married, so this seemed like... an affair?
Third, the lady had been dead for several years?
Could it be that this era was so tolerant of mistresses and affairs?!
Hedy wasn’t one to indulge in gossip, but she sensed that this might connect to other details, so she decided to ask one more question.
"Can you tell me... what exactly happened?"
Dechio hesitated for a moment before revealing everything.
She was just a small, insignificant figure in the palace, and didn’t know any deep secrets. However, the events from the past were well-known by many in the palace.
Botticelli had always been close to the Medici family, growing up in the Palazzo Vecchio. He had his own private workshop, was famous throughout Florence, and was also the Medici family’s most loyal artist.
He had painted the members of the Medici family alongside the gods, subtly reshaping many of their thoughts and beliefs through his work.
A few years ago, a beautiful woman from Genoa had dazzled the entire city. Her name was Simonetta, and her husband had strong ties to the Medici family as well. Through business dealings and social gatherings, many men became infatuated with her.
The late lord’s brother, Giuliano, the current lord, Lorenzo, and this handsome and remarkable Botticelli—each of them had been taken by her charm.
Three years ago, during the knight’s tournament, Giuliano had even carried her portrait to the competition, and that portrait was created by none other than Botticelli himself.
Dechio paused for a moment, then hesitated before continuing. "You might have seen... that pagan painting by Botticelli."
... Venus? The one she had seen that day?
"The face of that pagan goddess... truly looks exactly like that lady’s."
Hedy listened to the details, still trying to wrap her mind around everything. Was marriage in this era really that different from what she had thought?
How could that merchant watch his wife being courted and adored by so many men without feeling pain?
"So... how did she die?"
"From a lung disease. She passed away at just twenty-three." Dechio sighed and added, "Her husband remarried soon after, and now he lives quite comfortably."
"Now, Botticelli is constantly being urged to marry, with many beautiful girls throwing him flirtatious glances, but it seems he can never get past her."
Hedy stood there, momentarily stunned. The bright and cheerful young man she had seen must have a much deeper and more repressed side to him than she had imagined. She wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad thing.
Compared to him, Da Vinci seemed to be living a carefree life. The only thing that troubled him now was probably still not fully understanding the muscle composition of the human body...
"So... was Lorenzo very sad?"
Dechio thought for a while before shaking her head.
"No, not really."
After Simonetta passed away, he brought her a bouquet of flowers, then turned and walked away.
And after that, he never spoke of her again.
Both brothers and subordinates falling for the same woman, and that woman being married—it's the kind of plot even soap operas would hesitate to write.
Hedy was contemplating all this when Dechio, thinking she was reflecting on the unpredictability of life, casually remarked:
"Actually, before the lord got married, there was someone he liked."
"And even after the marriage, they continued corresponding for a long time."
Eventually, when the young lady got married to someone else, their contact gradually ceased.
That must have been... his first love, right?
Hedy didn’t want to pry further, but after a moment of hesitation, she asked, "Then, what does marriage mean to people like them?"
Dechio looked puzzled. "It’s just marriage."
Engagement, vows, exchanging rings—what else could there be?
"Then... don’t they have to remain faithful?"
The maid thought for a while and honestly replied, "Perhaps, compared to responsibility, love and romance are more like a luxury."
Hedy was taken aback and let out a long sigh.
The lady of the house knew perfectly well that her marriage to the lord was just a contract, yet she dutifully bore nine children. That was truly a remarkable level of dedication.
Dechio's eyes had improved rapidly; now she could clearly see the steps at night and no longer stumbled.
Spring arrived quietly, as if the camellias had bloomed overnight.
The palace once again began holding grand balls, with noblewomen and young ladies surrounding Botticelli, chattering away, while knights dueled with swords.
Hedy received several new dresses, and it seemed that the fit around her chest had been adjusted. She refused to reveal too much cleavage, and the design of the dresses was just perfect—not too stiff and boring, but also not so revealing that it looked like she was about to expose herself.
Moreover, Dechio also took her to the nobles' private bathhouse—an entirely secluded space. While it wasn't very large, it was private enough for her to relax and take a bath.
When Hedy learned that this was at the lord's request, she couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, she wouldn’t have to sneak around in the middle of the night to wipe her body.
And just at that moment, her penicillin experiment was finally complete. It felt as if God had suddenly caused all the flowers to bloom in front of her.
In three glass dishes, Hedy had cultivated three different things.
She had taken mold from a piece of orange peel and golden staphylococcus bacteria from pus. Once these two were cultivated and started to reproduce, she took samples from each and placed them into the same dish.
As long as she could see the golden staphylococcus bacteria being gradually dissolved and destroyed, it would prove that the dish contained enough penicillin. This substance could treat syphilis, festering wounds, pneumonia, endocarditis, and many other ailments.
That day, when Hedy went to inspect her experiment, she almost couldn’t believe her eyes.
It really worked—it really worked!
She had successfully cultivated penicillin from the countless bacteria!
If she could cultivate this penicillin further in a more efficient way and produce it in larger quantities, it could save so many lives!
The next step was to cultivate more of the penicillin, essentially fermenting it.
Hedy found herself regretting not reading more related reports when she was in America. Holding the box of mold, she thought for a long time. The principles should be similar, she assumed.
Currently, the penicillin on the agar was only a faint stain—far too little to be used to treat patients. If it were to be injected into someone's body to help them recover, she would need at least a whole bowl's worth.
...So, would it still rely on beef broth?
"Dechio, bring me a bigger bowl."
During that same spring, the lord did two things that had the whole city talking.
It seemed he had consulted a famous scholar from somewhere and, experimenting on his own, had created a device.
This instrument could magnify objects by dozens of times and allowed one to see the intricate structure of fruits and vegetables' surfaces.
He handed both the instrument and its designs to the University of Florence.
They held a meeting to study it and decided to establish a new academic field—natural science.
Perhaps it was thanks to these advancements that orders were sent out across the city and surrounding areas:
—Everyone, of any profession or age, should wash their hands with clean water before and after handling things, in order to wash away the invisible "small things."
This requirement sounded rather odd, but since the bishop himself had taken the lead in washing his hands, the citizens had no problem following suit.