Page 182 of DATE
But when she instinctively blocked the kiss, she suddenly woke up, realizing just how far she had let her guard down.
Hedy, having lived ninety years, believed she could easily read the attitudes of those around her—whether male or female—just as a predator would instinctively recognize its prey. From her youth to old age, she had never lacked admirers, and as a skilled actress, she had honed the ability to understand subtle facial expressions and small gestures.
Yet, over the past three years, she had never once detected any sign of the lord's feelings toward her.
His actions were not driven by lust; rather, they seemed to reflect a deeper, more intense emotion. The way he leaned into kiss her wasn’t a forceful act, but rather an invitation, a confirmation, not an assault.
Love and hate were the hardest emotions to conceal; no matter how hard one tried to control them, they would always slip through. But this man, who had been by her side day in and day out, maintained his calm and distance, never once betraying his feelings, even in their regular meetings, where their eye contact was minimal.
Even during the dance, he never made any effort to close the distance between them, and his gaze was so indifferent that it left no room for suspicion.
Yet, in that moment when he leaned in to kiss her, she saw an unmistakable love in his eyes.
It was only in his drunken state that this love revealed itself.
"Have I really never noticed any of this?"
Hedy finally recognized how misguided her self-confidence had been.
As someone who had lived in modern society, she had thought that her wisdom would allow her to achieve most of her desires in this ancient time. But in truth, some people’s depth and calculation had nothing to do with the passage of history.
He wasn’t as easily controlled or influenced as she had imagined, and he hid his emotions deeply.
What seemed like sudden love could easily turn into long-hidden disdain in the future.
In the past year, she had begun to interfere in more and more political matters, believing she had a precise understanding of the lord’s likes and tendencies.
How laughable.
Leaving Milan didn’t just mean she and the lord could distance themselves and cool down; it would also help her broaden her perspective.
Florence had been adjusted into a well-oiled machine, with everything from economic development to military expansion running smoothly. Even if she left, the many plans she had submitted were enough for him to use as a guide for the next ten years.
But the real surprise was Da Vinci's decision to leave so resolutely.
Hedy had been startled when she went to him, without much thought in her proposal. Yet, this man had given up his prestigious position and handsome salary, packed a few belongings, and followed her without hesitation.
Her jewelry box remained locked in its secret compartment, untouched—no one would even notice if there was an earthquake.
It was something most people would never do for a friend—if he weren’t Da Vinci, she would have seriously questioned whether he had feelings for her as well.
They set off with Atalante, who was becoming increasingly proficient at playing the lyre, and her maid, Dechio.
Dechio was naturally from the Medici family, and in the future, she might continue to maintain contact with them. However, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
At least for now, she hadn’t officially broken ties with the Medici family; she was simply away on a visit.
The many workshops and penicillin production plants in Florence continued to run without interruption, and the loyal managers had promised to send her regular reports with updates.
Her wealth and assets remained intact, and so did her name. Thanks to her surname, whenever she encountered difficulties in Milan, she could immediately turn to the Medici Bank for protection.
Dechio had dozed off in the bumpy ride, while Atalante tried playing a tune on the leaves.
Da Vinci glanced at the countryside scenery, then pulled out his sketchbook and started drawing quickly.
After listening to the sound of Atalante’s leaf playing, with splutters of spit flying, he leaned out of the carriage and casually picked a leaf from a wild orange tree. He lowered his head, adjusted the angle, and began to play a lively and pleasant folk tune.
Hedy, who had been aimlessly sorting her thoughts, snapped back to attention when she heard the tune. She gestured for him to pick a leaf for her as well.
