CHAPTER 10 #7
"Is it strange?" He also studied it for a moment before turning to her. "What are you thinking?"
Hedy was rather honest: "Questioning the size."
"That’s not how it really is," Da Vinci said, leading her forward but changing their route, as if intending to show her something else.
Hedy had seen quite a few statues in Florence—after all, the Palazzo Vecchio housed quite a number of them.
Most of those parts were about the size of the first knuckle of a pinky finger.
If they didn’t want to acknowledge its existence, wouldn’t it be better to just cover it with cloth...?
They passed by the gold leaf workshop, turned right near another painting studio, and suddenly stopped.
"Look at this," he said with a smile.
Hedy froze, frowned, and stayed silent for a while.
Why is this one sculpted so thick and long?
Not only is it sticking straight up, but it’s also holding up the entire fruit basket, making it look like some weightlifting equipment...
Just eyeballing the size... it must be at least 20 to 30 centimeters long?!
Why is it carved like a club??
She instinctively glanced at Da Vinci, whose expression remained as calm as ever.
If it were any other man showing her bizarre genitalia, she might have considered calling a lawyer.
"This is The Harvest of Priapus. This deity was the child born after Aphrodite was cursed by Hera," Da Vinci bent down to glance at the thick, lengthy presence beneath the fruit basket, explaining the pagan tale to her.
"So after his birth, he remained in this state forever—unable to recover or shrink back. "
"You mean... this is actually a kind of... punishment?"
"Mhm." Da Vinci led her toward the apothecary as he elaborated, "From what my teacher told me, this likely stems from an ancient Greek belief."
Plump, spherical shapes symbolized potent reproductive power.
Rod-like forms, however, ought to be small and inconspicuous—only then could they represent wisdom and virtue.
Art itself often defied conventional notions, and this was also tied to the ever-expanding economic climate of the Middle Ages.
Only through self-castration, binding oneself with morality, could the risk of property being violated be minimized.
Modern people, living in the age of pop culture, might hold entirely opposite views.
But what’s truly frightening isn’t physical castration—it’s the complete distortion of the mind.
"From a sculpting perspective, something of this length would easily break or get damaged without support."
"From a philosophical standpoint, the smaller it is, the more it signifies self-discipline and intelligence."
Hedy listened to his explanations and clicked her tongue inwardly.
People could only deceive each other in this era.
A few centuries later... religion and mythology wouldn’t hold nearly as much sway.
They bought some strange items together at the herbal shop.
In addition to a few more plump mummies, they also bought snail shells, bird feathers, and strange little stones for their friends at the palace.
The herbal shop owner had been replaced by an elderly woman, who smiled and was very easy to talk to. She even gave Hedy an extra feather pen.
As they walked back to the Doge's Palace, chatting along the way, Hedy suddenly saw Dechio anxiously standing at the door, clearly preparing to go out and look for her.
"What happened?"
She quickened her pace and soon reached the maid.
"You’re finally back—my lord has been looking for you."
Dechio hurriedly took the various things from her hands and led her back to the office.
The lord had already left, and only the servant Cosimo remained to convey the new message.
"We’ve received news from the south—"
"The Ottoman Empire is attacking several coastal cities. Over eight hundred people have already died in Vistna."
Cosimo looked at her with deep concern, clearly anxious and nervous.
"We're all worried about the Pope and the safety of the Roman citizens."
It had only been twenty-seven years since the fall of Constantinople.
"Is it happening? The Ottoman Empire?"
Hedy took a few seconds to realize what he was referring to.
The Turks—the Ottoman Turkish Empire.
Cosimo, evidently more familiar with this situation, quickly explained the basic details to her.
After the destruction of the Eastern Roman Empire, the Ottoman Turks had made Constantinople their capital. The ruler of that empire was known as Muhammad II.
According to the limited intelligence, they had dispatched about seventy fleets to attack Vistna, and their main target for slaughter was the male population.
"My lord went to discuss countermeasures with the envoys from Milan and Venice. He'll be back soon to talk with you," Cosimo paused, adding pointedly, "The transportation and communication networks have certainly played a huge role."
They had established post stations under the guise of trade in several city-states, aiming to achieve the fastest possible communication.
If anything happened in Milan, Florence might receive news within two days.
From banks to grocery stores, even to ordinary farmhouses in the countryside, the Medici family had quietly set up a web-like system to ensure the dynamics of nearby cities could be reported in a timely manner.
Hedy didn’t expect the war to come so quickly, nor could she predict its outcome.
But Italy had not been conquered, or else there wouldn’t be a Renaissance.
As a foreigner born in Austria, hearing this news now, Hedy’s historical understanding and geographical associations were somewhat slow to adjust.
But one thing was unquestionable—this was a very good opportunity.
It meant that the Medici family had a legitimate reason to intervene and could strengthen diplomatic ties with other city-states.
When Lorenzo walked into the office, his steps were hurried, and his expression serious—clearly, he had heard the latest war reports.
He hadn’t originally intended to discuss political decisions with her, but her suggestion of a communication network had proven to be incredibly effective—remarkably effective.
When the war broke out, Florence was among the first to receive distress signals and clear information. The envoys from Milan and Venice didn’t even know the scale of the war.
"What do you plan to do?" she asked.
"Form a defensive alliance and rally the majority of the city-states to resist the foreign enemy," Lorenzo replied without hesitation. "At the very least, we need to expel the Turks."
Hedy lowered her head, thinking for a moment, before asking, "And then?"
And then?
The developments of the war were still too uncertain, so why think ahead to "what’s next"?
She looked at him, her tone firm, "Haven’t you considered building military strength and expanding territory?"
Milan and Venice were incredibly strong—Venice, both financially and militarily, was among the best, truly not to be underestimated.
But surrounding Florence, there were various small states scattered like crumbs.
In fact, Italy, or rather the current Holy Roman Empire, was in a state of fragmentation.
Hedy had spent a long time researching one question: why had France, in just over ten years, moved from Milan all the way to Florence?
Trade routes, of course, were one reason—interests were an eternal topic.
But perhaps the more tempting reason was that Italy, now part of the Holy Roman Empire, was simply too fragmented.
In the past few decades, whenever there were diplomatic or military issues, they would always seek foreign assistance, hoping that their allies would solve the problems for them.
Not only that, but internally, there were constant conflicts, with different reasons for fighting cropping up every few years.
To put it in more vivid terms, it was as if France had a wealthy neighbor with a collection of jewels.
Not only did the siblings live apart, but they were constantly fighting with each other.
They not only fought among themselves but also invited nearby residents to arbitrate and break up the fights—completely chaotic.
It was the perfect target for bullying.
In such a situation, the only way to solve the historical problem was to have a dominant figure—someone who could beat the younger generations into submission and establish clear rules.
"Expand territory?" Lorenzo repeated her words. "I can understand developing military power, but do you think I’m a bloodthirsty tyrant?"
His strength lay in balance and reconciliation.
Because of this, over the past decade, he had married Clarice, the daughter of a family with military power, to strengthen Florence's defenses. He had even gone alone to Naples to negotiate peace talks.
To this day, Lorenzo was seen by the citizens as a compassionate, benevolent, and upright figure.
Perhaps in other city-states there were tyrants who enjoyed torturing prisoners, endless assassinations, and oppression, but Florence was a sanctuary.
Hedy suddenly read a lot between the lines of his words.
She composed herself, then spoke with emphasis.
"You should not be weighed down by your fame."
Lorenzo frowned and once again examined the young woman in front of him, who seemed a little fragile.
She was ten years younger than him, but sometimes the sharpness she displayed felt like that of a seasoned colleague.
"Mr. Medici, you must understand what Florence should become."
"If it remains only a haven for art and science, it will eventually be conquered, sooner or later."
At that moment, Hedy felt as if her blood had frozen in her veins. Even her elbows started to tremble slightly, yet she quickly forced herself to say everything that was on her mind.
She was highly likely to be hanged on the gallows for her audacity today.
But if she didn’t speak up, Florence would fall, and she might face an even more tragic fate.
"If you build it into an empire, with stronger legions and larger territories, only then can these treasures and wealth survive for the long term."