CHAPTER 25
This was originally supposed to be Lorenzo's birthday.
People were so familiar with this date that they all tacitly wore black robes, collectively remembering the late former ruler.
People referred to the turmoil of these months as the 'War of Nirvana,' but in reality, a new empire had been reborn through this process.
The young Protestant Pope stood on a higher platform, holding a crown adorned with jewels in his hands.
This empire had not been unified to such an extent for many years. The entire central and western coastline had been integrated into one, and its military and economic prosperity had reached new heights.
Hedy, dressed in a deep purple velvet gown, slowly walked up to the Pope amidst the thousands of blessings.
She took a deep breath and stood before Giovanni.
Countless nobles and old friends stood on either side, their gazes like flickering candles.
The Pope held the crown, waiting for her to bow in submission.
Suddenly, Hedy smiled.
The act that Napoleon would later perform hundreds of years later was now being preemptively executed by her.
Under the watchful eyes of countless spectators, she reached out, took the golden crown, and calmly placed it on her head.
She had crowned herself—
Was even the Protestant Pope unable to command her submission?!
Young Giovanni clearly hadn't expected this. He instinctively glanced at the people on either side, then looked back at the unchanged expression of the ruler. With a sigh, he wished her and this new empire enduring prosperity.
People were somewhat unaccustomed to the name of this country, but they had no intention of changing it.
Whether it was called the Holy Roman Empire or Italy, as long as it allowed people to live safely and provided enough to eat, they had little hope for anything more.
Hedy ultimately decided to make Florence the capital, rather than Genoa, where they had initially stayed—after all, it was too close to France. If an unexpected attack occurred, the loss of many vital resources would be irreversible.
She returned to the old palace with her old friends and subordinates, while Clarice and the children were housed in the picturesque Palazzo Pitti.
It had hardly changed. The paintings of Leonardo and Botticelli hung in their familiar spots, and even the scratches left on the white oak door from their childhood mischief were still there.
The coronation was not particularly grand but rather a public declaration.
There was no talk of a lord anymore; she was the sole sovereign of this land.
Milan, Venice, and Naples held ambiguous stances, but they did not openly oppose her.
They sensed that she might become a queen like the one in Denmark, and they also feared the unstoppable force of her guns and cannons.
What could possibly blow up a castle, turning centuries-old rocks into dust?!
For this reason, none of them declared their allegiance.
The small, fragile city-states and knightly territories had all been absorbed, leaving a fragmented map with only four major pieces:
The central Italian Empire, Milan and Venice in the north and east, and Naples in the southeast.
Italy's territory was the largest, and it controlled the most ports—Milan, a landlocked state, was at a significant disadvantage and looked quite miserable at this juncture.
The news of a queen being born on the Apennine Peninsula quickly spread across Europe, and people couldn't stop discussing it.
They endlessly debated her relationship with Lorenzo de' Medici, or speculated on where she had conjured so many mercenaries, and how she managed to control them with what kind of sorcery.
Meanwhile, the subjects of these discussions were sitting together in the courtyard of the old palace, opening a half-barrel of red wine.
It had been brewed in the early spring of 1479.
At that time, Hedy had just been released from house arrest and had never expected to become involved in politics or the affairs of the state.
The angels had already taken a large portion of the wine, and along with the few cups she and Botticelli had secretly drunk earlier, there was little left.
Eight people had arrived, and nine glasses were placed on the table. When the wine was poured, not a drop remained, as if it had been perfectly calculated.
"To Lorenzo," Hedy raised her glass.
"—To Lorenzo."
They began reminiscing about the past, recalling the times when they had lived here, savoring the rich and lingering wine as they laughed softly with nostalgia.
Hedy leaned against Leonardo, lost in thought.
Death is an abstract concept.
It’s like an old friend you’ve spent your days with. Perhaps you were never especially close, and even had disagreements and conflicts with them in the past.
But one day, they simply vanish, as though they have evaporated from the world.
You used to be able to find their office, garden, or concert hall, but now, the familiar figure is gone.
All the memories and habits suddenly seem to have a gap, as though an invisible cliff has appeared within your heart.
She hadn’t gotten used to it yet.
It had nothing to do with love or faith, but more to do with habit.
Leonardo understood her recent quietness and melancholy. He gently embraced her, waiting for her to gradually come around.
It was at that moment, Raphael, slightly tipsy, suddenly asked, “Your Majesty, when do you and Mr. da Vinci plan to get married?”
Hedy blinked in surprise, snapping out of her reverie.
Little Raphael had grown quite fast and loved to laugh and sing.
Although he wasn’t thrilled about the new black-haired brother around Michelangelo, he only pouted for a while before happily playing with them again.
Niccolò also seemed to have recalled this matter, his tone rather subtle: “Shouldn’t he be called Prince da Vinci?”
As per tradition, he would be granted land and titles, whether for military merit or his current position.
Leonardo, absentmindedly playing with the ends of her hair, suddenly felt his cheeks warm when he heard this.
“We can wait a while,” he observed her expression carefully, “After all, the funeral was not long ago, and there’s still much to be done for the country.”
Hedy steadied herself and sighed, “I need to talk to him alone about some matters.”
“Then let’s do it today!” Niccolò decisively stood up, making sure to take the half-filled glass of wine that he hadn’t finished — truly a wine like no other in his life!
“Huh?”
Niccolò walked a few steps before returning to drag Raphael along with him, signaling to the others to leave as well.
Everyone laughed and waved them off before dispersing in their own directions.
The courtyard was soon left with only the two of them. The afternoon sunlight bathed them, bringing a lazy warmth.
“So… what else needs to be discussed?” Leonardo set down his glass, his tone becoming more serious. “Contraception? Children?”
Hedy froze for a moment, only then realizing the depth of the question.
This probably didn’t require much worry… she liked children and could handle these things.
But judging by his tone, even if she decided to avoid pregnancy for life, he likely wouldn't mind.
Hedy sighed, lowering her head to grasp his hands, trying to summon the courage to discuss the deep-seated matter in her heart.
Yet, even as these thoughts surfaced, they seemed to crash against a wall inside her, causing the bubbles to burst and leaving only vague traces.
She opened her mouth, but her expression was filled with hesitation.
“You’re… afraid,” the man tightened his grip on her hands and softly asked, “What are you afraid of?”
He leaned his forehead against hers, and their breathing began to synchronize.
“Hedy… I’m right here with you.” His deep, warm voice seemed to wash away many fears.
From the very beginning, this unique sense of reassurance and trust had been like salvation to her.
Hedy remained silent, her eyes cast down as she subtly shook her head.
He didn’t rush her. Instead, he tilted his head and kissed her lips.
Their eyelashes brushed against each other, as if touching the wings of a butterfly.
The kiss was tender and soft, seemingly able to convey all emotions and care.
She instinctively tightened her grip on his hand, taking deep breaths to hold back her tears.
Crying is often seen as a sign of weakness.
But sometimes, crying doesn’t only represent pain.
If a person carries too much, even if they fall into a deep sleep, tears may unconsciously fall.
They touched each other's noses, their cheeks pressing close before gently parting.
The feeling of love was as though their souls were beginning to dissolve and merge, and their bodies instinctively yearned to be closer.
The scent of figs lingered around her, and the man’s shallow breaths stirred her emotions.
Without thinking, she deepened the kiss, even wishing it would never end.
“Hedy…” he sighed, “What exactly are you afraid of?”
Hedy pulled away from him, hesitating before softly speaking.
“Leonardo.”
“Hmm?”
“The things I’m about to tell you might be beyond your understanding.”
“What?” He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you actually French?”
“I hope that after hearing this, you won’t let go of my hand,” she whispered. “If you do, I’ll be hurt, and I won’t be able to trust you again.”
Leonardo’s expression became much more serious, and he nodded slowly at that moment.
“I won’t.”
“Actually…” She took a deep breath, trying to maintain her calm tone. “I come from 500 years in the future.”
500 years in the future?
Leonardo blinked, a bit confused by the concept.
“That’s not a place, is it?”
“It’s not a place.”
“500 years—” He tried to grasp her words again. “You mean, the future, five hundred years from now?”
“Yes.” She spoke plainly. “I don’t know why this is happening.”
At that moment, Hedy had already mentally prepared herself to lose the engagement.
Giovanni was in Florence, and he could announce the annulment of the temporary engagement at any time.