CHAPTER 7 #2
But because of past experiences, da Vinci didn’t want to lose this friendship.
She, like him, understood many things in this world, and she was good at listening and offering companionship.
Without Hedy's prompting, this painting might not have even had a draft by next year.
"So, what’s this friend’s name?"
The young man laughed, his bare chest full and beautiful.
"Atalante Migliorotti."
He appeared to be about twelve or thirteen, with slender limbs, fair skin, and faint freckles on his face.
"Put your clothes on first," da Vinci instructed, then found a chair for Hedy. "He came over to visit me earlier and did a quick sketch."
This place was rather remote, and there were usually no visitors.
Hedy nodded, her gaze shifting to the long-necked instrument.
"What is this?"
Da Vinci smiled and, as though cradling a pet, reached out to gently stroke the instrument's long neck.
"It's my design for a lyre."
It had five playing strings and two plucked strings, with a silver sheen on its neck, shaped like an unusual horse skull.
"You designed this?" Hedy paused for a moment, more surprised by this than seeing the naked man. "Is it like a violin?"
Da Vinci nodded, holding the bow in one hand and placing the lyre against his arm with the other.
As his wrist flicked, the smooth and flowing sound of the lyre poured out, its melody flowing like a clear stream, filling the entire side courtyard once more.
What was even more amazing was that he began to sing as he played.
"The world is silent now, the winds have calmed—"
His usually soft and clear voice lifted in pitch, becoming more melodious and beautiful.
"The night falls with its starry glow, the sea sleeps quietly, without a trace—"
One hand held the bow while the other plucked the double strings, and he was able to sing at the same time.
The rise and fall of the lyre's tones intertwined with his slightly lowered voice, like two nightingales weaving through a dense forest as they flew away.
Hedy listened for quite a while, suddenly realizing he was singing Petrarch's sonnet.
At that moment, a long gust of wind passed through the hall, lifting the pages of the manuscript on the table, and the faint scent of hyacinths lingered in the air. The sound of the lyre wrapped around them, as if the song had entered her very soul.
She looked up at him, and in her surprise, she suddenly understood many things.
He was not just the Leonardo da Vinci of the Louvre.
He was the designer of stage effects, the creator of war machines.
He drew blueprints for city designs in his notebooks, eagerly studied the anatomy of human muscles.
He could create entirely new instruments, play and sing ancient ballads, and have a profound reverence for both nature and science.
While others were still immersed in the dark, present world constructed by the Bible, living mediocre lives solely for the hope of reaching heaven after death, he was, right before her eyes, so vividly, fully, and fearlessly alive.
He probably didn’t even need a lover.
Later generations speculated that he might have been asexual or suspected him of being homosexual, but those were just rumors without any concrete evidence.
Yet this Leonardo, even if he lived for decades alone, probably lived a happier life than countless others.
From medicine to science, from nature to music, his endless exploration and discovery of each field brought him sheer contentment.
When the song "At This Moment, Silence Falls" ended, Leonardo looked up at her, smiling and waving the bow.
"How was it?"
Hedy snapped out of her reverie and instinctively started clapping. "It was beautiful."
"I was once invited to Milan to be a court musician, but there’s work to be done here in Florence too." Da Vinci put the lyre away, stroking his chin. "Whenever you’re tired of being here, would you like to come with me to visit other cities?"
Hedy’s eyes brightened, and she smiled, nodding. "That depends on when you finish this painting."
Otherwise, I might be visiting you in prison.
Da Vinci belatedly remembered that he had signed a contract and, once again, delayed his work for the day. He quickly sipped some wine to steady himself before starting his egg tempera painting.
The boy had already changed into his clothes and came over to examine the outlines on the sketch, smiling and greeting her.
"Call me Atalante," he said, "You’re really beautiful—will you come by here often?"
The Italians sure have a way with words, their mouths as sweet as honey.
Hedy chatted with him for a while, listening to him explain when he started learning to play the lyre under Da Vinci’s guidance. They also worked together on mixing egg tempera paint, talking about old stories along the way.
One time, several artists had gathered together and invited a few male models to discuss the human body and its contours, only to be reported to the night watchmen.
Their actions were falsely accused of sodomy, but later, with the help of friends, they managed to settle the matter. The case was dropped due to insufficient evidence.
The two of them continued chatting as they moved from painting to playing music. Though Da Vinci was applying paint, he kept his ears perked, listening to their conversation.
"By the way—" he turned around, "You mentioned before that you could make something that plays music by itself?"
Hedy remembered the conversation and nodded. "Yes, an automatic piano."
"What’s that?"
Wait, this era didn’t even have the piano evolved yet...
She thought about the instrument the lady of the house had played earlier and mimicked the motion of pressing the keys at the table, showing Da Vinci.
"Is it a Cvichord?" Da Vinci asked, surprised. "How can it play by itself? Is it also alchemy?"
Hedy pointed to the fresco behind him that was nearly dry. "When you finish this painting, I’ll tell you."
"—So we’re not getting past the fresco today, are we?"
The girl laughed. "You've been distracted more than five times today."
After returning from the monastery, Hedy gathered the papers she had previously written and went to meet the lord on time, listening to the bells toll.
She had come up with a solution for the water problem that could not only purify the water but also remove parasites from the river.
When she entered the office, there was a long table with two cages on it.
"What is this—"
Cosimo immediately stepped forward and pulled aside the velvet cloth, revealing two rabbits in the cages.
A gray rabbit and a black one.
Hedy instinctively looked at Lorenzo next to her and then at the two rabbits, which seemed to be intended for experimentation.
—These weren’t gifts from Leonardo, clearly brought in from elsewhere.
"I had my people do what you explained earlier," Lorenzo said as he stood up, his tone somewhat complicated.
She was right.
The two rabbits, one drinking water from the Arno River and the other from rainwater collected on the roof, were housed in lead bowls with a glaze.
The black rabbit, which drank the river water, was quite lively, always trying to dig or gnaw at its cage, eagerly eating whatever food was given.
But the gray rabbit, which drank the rainwater, had been lively before, but now it lay listlessly every day, barely responding even when someone approached.
The results were immediate and undeniable after just twenty days, making it hard to argue with the effectiveness.
Hedy hadn’t expected the servants to execute the task so efficiently—she had only just drafted the format for the experiment report, and they had already gathered the results.
"The elders at the Florentine Academy have also reviewed the relevant literature and found similar references in ancient Roman texts," Lorenzo remarked, observing the gray rabbit, which was sleeping soundly, deep in thought. "But without rainwater, I'm afraid brewing with river water might..."
"Boiling would solve the problem," Hedy instinctively replied. "You could build a boiler room for the palace."
Whether it’s river water or well water, neither is suitable for direct consumption.
Bacteria and parasites can cause diseases like dysentery or enteritis, and harmful substances in the water need to be boiled to be purified.
But the issue is that boiling water requires fuel—this era doesn’t have induction stoves or water heaters, so it would be quite a hassle.
"Boiling?"
Hedy took the documents from Dechio’s hands, spreading them out to show the specific design.
First, a windmill would be built by the river to create a water pump to continuously pump water.
Then, a sedimentation pool, adsorption pool, and filtration pool would be created to ensure clean water flowed into different tanks.
On top of this, a boiler room would be established to ensure hot water could be provided at any time after boiling—
One part of the water could go directly into brewing wine, since, in this era, there was no tea, and no one would drink plain hot water.
"Your old wine can be kept in the cellar for now, and it won’t hurt to drink it in moderation," Hedy explained the meaning of different diagrams. "Once this is set up, it would be best to use clean water that hasn’t come into contact with lead for the new wine."
"Old wine?" Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. "The Medici never drink old wine."
Hedy paused, suddenly feeling that something was off.
In modern times, the wealthy love to compare their collection of aged wine, often decades or even over a hundred years old—
In a city like this, where everyone drinks wine instead of water, surely there must be some treasured bottles stored in the wine cellar?
Lorenzo noticed her surprised expression and glanced at Cosimo.
"Doesn’t wine spoil and turn sour over time? Couldn't it be turned into vinegar?" Cosimo quickly stepped in to smooth things over. "Miss Kiesler has probably been working hard lately."
"Wait a minute," Hedy looked at Cosimo, "When wine turns sour, isn't that a sealing issue?"