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The young man looked at the girl beside him in a fluster, but she was gazing up at the holy image in the stained glass.
The bishop's voice echoed from afar, sounding distant andsurreal.
"—May it accompany your soul."
——
I heard that the lord from Milan has successfully proposed, and next month there will be a grand wedding at the Alberti family’s mansion.
As Hedy was determining the fermentation rate and preparation scale of penicillin, she was also listening to various rumors from all directions.
Some said that the passionate and domineering lord had used both coaxing and deceit to tame the charming noble lady, while others claimed it was another transaction between two noble families.
Some even claimed to have seen Sforza out and about having fun with another woman, but this statement seemed somewhat dubious.
Listening to these gossip, Hedy didn’t take those dramatic conspiracy theories seriously.
In this era, noble marriages were quite common—Lorenzo’s sister was one such example.
The Medici and Rucellai families had a close and cordial relationship, with frequent business exchanges.
The palace where she had gone for a late-night emergency was located on the western side of the city, right where the emerging textile district was developing. Even the entire workshop she had purchased was nearby.
The young Mr. Rucellai not only came from an ancient lineage but also had a long-standing good relationship with the Medici brothers. Ten years ago, they had even celebrated Pope Sixtus IV’s election together.
Political marriages not only allowed families to exchange resources and stabilize their positions but also helped to unite against external enemies.
She snapped back to reality and continued reading the data in her notebook, feeling light and cheerful.
Thanks to Da Vinci, the mold on the melons, after being purified and fermented, had greatly improved in speed, much to her relief.
If the factory continued to expand, they could even steadily supply medicine to the entire city.
Of course, this new medicine was expensive and rare, but at least it was now able to treat two or three patients every month.
The wealthy had caught wind of this and began to show even more enthusiasm in currying favor with the Medici family.
Just at this crucial moment, Lorenzo had summoned her again.
"Council of a hundred? Me?"
"Think about it," Lorenzo said, lowering his head as he reviewed documents about irrigation channels. His tone was casual. "An old gentleman died of a stroke, and if you're willing to participate, Mr. Rucellai and a few others from the leadership group are willing to select you."
She froze for a moment, her expression still a bit uneasy.
It wasn’t that she feared politics or was inherently timid and weak.
It was just that this sudden act of goodwill was unexpected and beyond her comprehension.
"What are you thinking?" Lorenzo finally lifted his head, studying her expression for a few seconds. "You’re doubting, aren't you?"
"Does this Council of a Hundred have any women in it?"
"There weren’t any before," Lorenzo said, taking a sip of water. "But now there can be."
"Is it safe enough?"
The lord fell silent for a few seconds, slowly standing up.
