CHAPTER 6 #3
As a result, doctors performing surgeries, butchers and vendors handling meat, maids, and cooks began washing their hands, either consciously or unconsciously.
Some said it was for health and cleanliness, others explained it was in honor of the Virgin Mary, but regardless, the custom began to spread.
Coincidentally, after this practice was introduced, many people in the city benefitted from it.
People now suffered from fewer cases of diarrhea and vomiting than ever before.
Especially after the cooks started washing their hands regularly, the stomachs of the lords felt much better.
Foreigners had mentioned that this practice had even spread to nearby cities in France, where many nobles were following suit.
Lorenzo had been waiting for a long time, but he still hadn’t seen the second paper.
He had initially thought that after seeing his approval and support, the alchemist would continue working diligently, creating more things to please him. But after two or three months, there had been no progress. She had remained silent, doing nothing.
Lorenzo knew that this young woman was a mystery, with many suspicious aspects surrounding her.
However, the Medici family, being bankers, was skilled in balancing and weighing their decisions carefully.
The maid, Dechio, was an honest person, bringing him the carrot juice and animal liver she had consumed, all presented for inspection. Lorenzo even called a doctor to examine each item, but nothing unusual was found.
He personally took a sip of the fresh carrot juice, cautiously testing it.
It was worse than the blood of demons.
"What has she been busy with lately?"
"Reading, learning Latin, fiddling with that moldy jar, and accompanying Mr. Da Vinci while he paints."
The lord fell silent for a moment.
"Bring her to me."
Before Hedy could arrive, another servant suddenly knocked on the door.
"My lord, that... gentleman said he must see you."
Lorenzo's expression shifted slightly, and he straightened up. "Let him in."
Following the servant into the office was a man, looking like a common city thief. His clothes and shoes were filthy, and his hair appeared greasy.
He was one of the city's thieves.
Though Lorenzo felt somewhat offended by the intrusion, he ultimately decided to heed the alchemist's advice.
In the past, he had surrounded himself with commoners, artists, sculptors, and anyone who could enhance his reputation.
However, as Hedy Kiesler had pointed out, the city's secrets were known not just to the upper echelons of bureaucracy.
Prostitutes, thieves, and even beggars on the street often saw things that were hidden from the higher classes.
In recent days, Lorenzo had been sending his people to subtly win over these individuals, cultivating a network of informants, and instructing them to report anything of importance.
This man was the leader of several thieves. He had come with a note in hand.
"What is this?"
The servant handed him the note. Unfolding it, Lorenzo saw a Latin phrase:
Forma est vacuitas, vacuitas forma.
"Nothing is form, form is nothing."
Lorenzo looked down at the hastily written words, furrowing his brow. "What is this about?"
"A hermit, sir." The thief stood awkwardly in such a grand place, unsure of where to place his hands.
He hadn't needed to come personally, but the matter was strange enough that he felt it required his direct report.
Since receiving the task, he had been keeping an eye on the city's events. Most things were like bubbles in the foam of a bath—small and insignificant, popping up here and there but ultimately not important.
However, recently, there had been an unusually large number of Frenchmen in the city.
Not only that, but there was also a hermit going around preaching, showing off the pus-filled scars all over his body—he had inflicted them upon himself.
"What kind of hermit?"
"An insane one."
The man was convinced that in life, a person must endure enough suffering to atone for their sins in order to reach heaven after death.
However, since he had no misfortune or suffering in his life, he began, day after day, to whip himself with a thorny scourge and even voluntarily cut off water and food to torture himself.
Not only that, but this madman was going around preaching like a missionary, widely promoting his inner doctrine:
Pleasure was a sin.
Makeup was a sin.
Art was a sin.
Happiness was forbidden.
People should not pursue immediate happiness, but must suffer enough pain.
These ideas were in direct contrast to the joy and indulgence that filled Florence. Yet, the madman persistently preached them, tirelessly urging others to follow his beliefs.
Now, more and more people were starting to listen to his speeches.
Lorenzo listened to the middle-aged man explaining the situation and suddenly remembered something the young woman had said:
"I hope you pay more attention to Florence."
"It may not be in perfect order."
He took a deep breath and looked up at the middle-aged man.
"What do you think?"
The instinctive response of a ruler was to simply get rid of this troublemaker and make sure he didn’t cause any more issues in the future.
The middle-aged man hadn’t expected to be asked for his opinion. After some thought, he said cautiously: “I think... this man could be more dangerous than he appears.”
"Go on."
"Because if a person can be this cruel to himself..." he gathered his courage and continued, "when he wants to destroy something, his methods will be even more vicious."
Lorenzo frowned, tapping his fingers absentmindedly on the desk.
This hermit was against all worldly pleasures.
That meant the entire Medici family, who promoted grand celebrations and revelry, would likely be a thorn in his side.
If such a person were to be used by the bishop or secretly conspired with someone…
"Reward him."
Cosimo walked over, handing the middle-aged man three gold coins.
The man’s face shifted between fear and surprise, and he hurriedly bowed and left.
Once the man was out of earshot, Cosimo quietly said, "Miss Kiesler has been waiting outside for a long time."
Lorenzo, still deep in thought about the matter, suddenly spoke.
"Find that hermit."
"Deal with him."
Cosimo was surprised. It seemed his lord was becoming more decisive and resolute.
"Don’t let anyone see. Take care of everything that needs to be hidden." Lorenzo looked at him firmly. "Make sure it’s final. Leave no loose ends."
"Yes, my lord. Don’t worry."
Hedy waited for a long time before she was finally summoned in.
As she entered and greeted him, she took a moment to assess the lord's expression. As usual, it was a politician's cold demeanor, though his body language seemed a little more relaxed today.
"I’ve been learning Italian recently," she began, breaking the silence. "Work has delayed me a bit."
Lorenzo, still focused on the papers in front of him, replied indifferently, "Then go ahead and continue."
"There’s one more thing I’d like to discuss with you."
Finally, the lord looked up, raising an eyebrow. "What now, more fruit?"
Suppressing a smile, Hedy maintained a serious expression. "No, this has to do with the roof."
She had noticed something, but the situation wasn’t looking good.
"I visited Da Vinci’s workshop rooftop recently and noticed that it seems to be made of lead."
"Are all the rooftops in Florence made the same way?"
Lorenzo appeared somewhat surprised, glancing at Cosimo, who nodded in confirmation.
"The problem is," Hedy continued, "that the drinking water in Florence is collected from the rainwater that runs off the eaves. And the glazes on the clay jars are made from lead as well."
Lead poisoning can severely affect the brain development of young children, and in extreme cases, it can lead to many other issues.
Hedy hadn’t planned on worrying about it, but one thing was unavoidable:
France would eventually invade and seize Florence’s lordship.
Although she didn’t intend to stay at the Medici Palace forever, it was currently the only place that offered her a stable life and space for her experiments.
This lord, who always wore a cold expression, might seem difficult to approach, but he was constantly open to advice. He even gave his microscope to the university for further research. At least he was a ruler with a brain.
As far as the city’s governance went, every little bit of influence could increase the chance of reversing the outcome.
From vitamin C to handwashing, from lead poisoning to future strategic planning—
At the very least, for now, she needed to earn this lord’s trust and see if she could awaken his awareness of the French threat.
If she left Florence, she had nowhere to go.
There was no America in this time, and she knew nothing of the situation in England.
Being able to communicate in the local language, having a stable job, and regularly meeting the city's ruler—she knew how fortunate she was.
"Kiesler," the lord said coolly. "You might be getting a bit carried away."
"Lead has been used since the Roman times, and people have lived just fine."
Hedy didn’t flinch, instead meeting his gaze. "We can conduct an animal experiment."
"What?"
"I have two rabbits," she said, feeling a pang of reluctance in her heart but pushing on with determination. "We can feed them the same food, but give them different water."
One glass of clean water, one with rainwater collected in a lead bowl.
"If, after a month, there’s no difference between the two rabbits—"
Before she could finish, there was a sudden, frantic knock at the door. "My lord! It’s terrible! The lady is having complications with the birth—"
Lorenzo’s expression changed in an instant, and he quickly strode toward the door. "How long has this been going on? Why didn’t anyone tell me?"
"It was supposed to be the ninth child, everything was going smoothly before—"