CHAPTER 24 #4
If she hadn’t insisted on going to Milan, if she had discovered these things sooner, he might have been able to leave Medici with some backup.
But she had returned far too late.
Every day of waiting, every hour, felt inseparable from the sharp and dull pain that seemed to intensify with each heartbeat, turning each moment into an agonizing torment.
...Why hadn’t Da Vinci brought her back yet?
...Had they found the two children?
"Lorenzo—" Hedy noticed his body was cold, covered in a light sweat, and her voice trembled in shock. "Are you sick? Is your gout acting up again?!"
"Quiet." The man suppressed the urge to curl up in pain and opened the secret compartment in the desk.
"Pisa has rebelled."
"What—No, Lorenzo, your health is the priority right now. Let me help you to the bench, we don’t need to discuss this now."
He gripped her wrist, stopping her from pursuing this futile idea.
"Our army has been redeployed to the front lines of Rome," his voice was heavy and hoarse. "The armies of the Duchy of Modena and Siena are already advancing, attacking from both the north and south, squeezing us from both sides."
"I'll handle this, my lord," Hedy allowed him to hold her wrist, her voice filled with panic and helplessness. "I'll call for reinforcements, at least Milan still has forces—"
"...Quiet." He had held on for too long, and now each word he spoke sounded fatigued.
The man slowly released her hand and took out a ring box from the hidden compartment.
When Hedy saw the wooden box, it was as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown in her face. She nearly guessed what was inside in the next moment, but she didn't want to confirm that thought.
"Open it."
She shook her head repeatedly, trying to deny some things as if rejecting a bad omen. "Lorenzo, you need to rest..."
The man coughed violently, and Hedy instinctively pulled out her handkerchief to cover his mouth, only to see bright red bloodstains.
—It was blood!
Her face turned pale, her fingers trembling as they gripped the handkerchief.
But Lorenzo, as if he had seen these stains countless times before, showed no change in expression.
"Open it," he said淡淡ly.
The wooden box was finally opened, revealing a radiant ruby ring lying quietly inside.
The band was made of platinum, and the large diamond was surrounded by petal-shaped rubies, making the ring appear delicate and exquisite.
—A bud about to bloom, like a cyclamen from Greece.
This diamond had thirty-five facets, a miracle no craftsman in the world could have completed.
"I’ve already spoken to the mercenary corps." He pushed the ring box toward her, leaning back in his chair again, starting to cough violently. "To see the ring is to see the person."
The twenty thousand strong mercenary corps from Florence would follow the ring's owner’s command without question.
"My children are still young, and Clarice is too inexperienced," Lorenzo closed his eyes and said.
"You've inherited this name. You will never be able to leave it in this lifetime."
Hedy clutched the ring, which she hadn’t held in nine years. Tears began to fall uncontrollably.
"The north is left to Da Vinci; he knows what to do."
"On the left side of the desk, you'll find information about the banking sector."
"Nino is a reliable young man. He could serve as your second-in-command."
"After Florence unites... it will need reform."
"And the academy..." He took a deep breath, trying to pass on more, but even breathing now triggered a burning sensation.
His stomach, heart, lungs—every part of his body—was slipping out of control.
Hedy was trembling at his side, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to form a coherent word.
"You can't die..." she gasped, her breath quickening, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Lorenzo, Florence needs you. The Medici family needs you—"
"I’ve returned as quickly as I could, Lorenzo—"
"I know." Lorenzo smiled with his eyes closed. "You’re not late."
"Hedy," he released her hand, murmuring her name. "Hedwig Eva Maria Kiesler... Medici."
At least his surname would forever be engraved in her name.
"Hedwig, turn around and play me one more song."
She hastily wiped the tears off her face, even staining his sleeve.
"No... Lorenzo, maybe..."
"This is my final order." His eyes remained closed, letting out a weary sigh. "I don’t want to say it again."
"Lorenzo..." She unsteadily stood, realizing he was still enduring the pain and spasms.
Even his fingers, gripping the armrest, were turning white.
"Turn around. Go."
The tears wouldn’t stop. Hot, damp droplets splashed onto the back of his hand.
She took a deep breath, bowed to him, and then made her way to the piano in the corner.
He opened his eyes, watching her blurred figure as she walked away.
The music began to flow like the blue Danube, and he slowly lifted his hand, pressing it to the unhealed tear stain on his face.
So... you will cry for me too.
The music swirled around the room like a river, just like the melodies he had given her as a gift on his birthday, like the rhythms at the grand waltz where people danced and swirled, and just like how he wanted to get closer to her when he was drunk.
The room and the Palazzo Pitti were both silent, not even the caw of a raven could be heard outside.
The song eventually came to an end.
By the time Hedy finished, she could no longer bring herself to turn around.
Trembling, she turned away, feeling as though she was falling into an icy abyss.
The man who had hired her as an alchemist, granting her permanent status, protection, and the means to transform all of Florence—who had even introduced her to the masters of the academy and bishops—was now gone forever.
Even when she impulsively led an army on a northern campaign, he had written back to say that the Medici family would always be her support.
But he left all of this to her, and quietly, without a sound, he had gone.
"Lorenzo..."
The man had peacefully passed, his breathing gone forever.
When the funeral was held, the entire city mourned.
Clarice arrived at the study, her crying so intense she could hardly catch her breath, but as she left, she forced herself to compose a resolute expression, taking charge of the funeral arrangements as the lady of the house.
Leonardo was the second to arrive. He checked Lorenzo's breathing immediately, then gently took the curled-up Hedy from the corner, carrying her back.
He noticed the familiar signet ring on her right hand but didn’t ask a single question. He simply cared for her as she slept, wiping away her tear stains with a warm cloth, and kept watch over her through the night.
"—Lord, for those who believe in You, life is but a transformation, not destruction; when we finish our journey on Earth, we will enter the eternal homeland."
For Catholics, death was the beginning of eternal life.
As Lorenzo’s coffin was paraded through Florence, the entire city gathered along the streets, singing hymns of Hallelujah in devotion.
Giovanni de' Medici, who succeeded as the Bishop of Florence, held a mass for his father. His expression was one of sorrow mixed with a sense of relief.
"—Open the gates for me, when I enter, I will praise the Lord."
The crowd sang in unison, the ancient scriptures echoing throughout the cemetery.
The war, which had seemed inevitable, finally broke out.
Florence’s north and south were attacked from different fronts, and the battles in Rome prevented the army from retreating.
People thought that Florence was doomed—
With Lorenzo’s passing, it meant that his young children and helpless wife would face all of this complexity alone. The entire nation seemed to be on the brink of collapse and destruction.
But then, another Medici lord appeared.
She took control of the banking system, and in her hands, she held an army of twenty thousand mercenaries, as if she had been preparing for this moment all along.
General Da Vinci and several other commanders swiftly took control of the situation and executed a powerful counterattack—
On December 5, 1486, the Duchy of Modena fell!
On December 14, 1486, the Duchy of Siena surrendered!
On December 31, 1486, Rome was defeated!
The central part of the Apennine Peninsula was unified, and all the fragmented territories were brought under the control of one family—
And that family’s name was Medici.
Pope Alexander VI was dragged, bound, and pushed to the center of the judgment platform.
The explosion and flames hadn’t killed him, but he was too terrified to show himself, hiding in a castle’s cellar with his loyal followers and subordinates, continuing to issue commands.
The Borgia siblings were nowhere to be found, and their mistresses and young lovers fled, taking with them much of the gold and silver.
When the army stormed Rome, Alexander VI was trembling in a wine barrel, having thrown away his cardinal’s robe without a second thought.
"Kneel," young Giovanni commanded, holding the bishop's staff and ordering him to look up at the sacred image of God.
The lord, dressed in a purple robe, stood by the man’s side and spoke calmly.
"You sold church positions, played with power, and led the Holy Roman Empire into sin."
"—Guilty," Giovanni said coldly.
"You oppressed women and children, disregarded the Bible’s moral teachings, fathered countless illegitimate children, and indulged in wild revelry for nights on end in Rome."
"—Guilty."
One after another, the accusations were pronounced, and the former pope, like a wild boar with its mouth gagged, continued to grunt in defiance, trying to break free from the chains that bound his arms and legs.
But within the church, no one moved. The silence was profound, broken only by the sound of chains rattling against the stone floor.
Once all the charges against the papal identity were pronounced, Hedy turned, raising her hand to receive the long sword passed to her by Luris.
"You conspired to place a traitor within the Doge’s Palace, allowing him to poison and kill our lord over many years, in a bid for more power and chaos."
Giovanni gripped the staff tightly, his voice cold as he declared, "Guilty."
Hedy lifted the sword’s blade to his chin, gazing at the man like a predator eyeing its prey. "Do you admit it?"
The obese pope’s eyes widened in brief surprise before quickly shaking his head furiously.
His violent movements were too much, and his many layers of double chin were cut open by the sharp blade, blood beginning to pour out in thick streams.
"Guilty," she whispered softly.
"Blood for blood," Giovanni said, rising to his feet, his eyes lowered as he gazed upon the man responsible for killing his father. "The sentence, please."
In the next moment, the lord raised the long sword and, with all his strength, drove it directly into the pope’s heart.
The sharp blade pierced through layers of fat and muscle, completely penetrating the still-beating heart.
A beastly howl echoed through the church.
Pope Alexander VI’s eyes widened in a mixture of disbelief and despair. His body lurched upwards, and his eyes bulged as though they might pop out of their sockets. His scream was shrill and agonizing.
But as strength and life drained from him, he could no longer sustain his cries and began to sob desperately.
Blood began to pour from his mouth and nose, splattering onto the ground in thick drops.
The cold steel of the sword and the sharp pain twisted together, and he could no longer distinguish between them. The agony made him attempt to struggle, but his limbs no longer had the strength to do so.
Hedy’s expression remained unchanged as she twisted the sword through his body.
In that moment, he struggled as if to rise, but as his head lifted high, his breath ceased. His corpulent body collapsed heavily to the ground, blood pouring from him like a broken sack.
He never closed his eyes, even in death.
The foul blood spread across the marble floor of the church, while above, the Father in the heavens still looked down with sorrow and compassion.
The room was completely silent, with everyone keeping their heads lowered, not a word spoken.
Hedy withdrew the long sword and, with a steady hand, ran her fingers over the warm blood on its blade.
It was all over now.
The old Church, from this day forward, was no more.
Italy, from this day onward, was born.