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"Well then," Hedy said, feeling more and more like she was coaxing a stray cat, and softened her tone. "Would you mind helping me carry some things back to the Doge's Palace? I’ll pay you fifteen silver coins as a reward."
The boy was silent for a moment, then nodded.
Hedy, her hands empty, had to take him to buy some fabric and new glass dishes. Then they went to a general store for someherbs that weren’t essential.
...She just wanted him to feel like he was truly earning something, not just being pitied.
The boy’s wounds were clearly still hurting, his walk a little unsteady, but he took great care in holding all the items and tried his best to keep the rain from touching them while holding the new umbrella.
On the way back, Hedy’s gaze wandered to the blurred, cool-toned Florence skyline, and she casually said, "You might have heard of me."
The boy lowered his head as he held the goods in silence, his ears quietly perking up.
"Prussian blue. I’m the one who created it." Hedy glanced at the dark blue stains on his cuff, speaking slowly, "It’s a deep blue, isn’t it?"
The boy froze for a moment, his expression one of disbelief. He even took the initiative to ask her, "You’re… the Miss Medici?!"
As expected... Whenever oil painting was mentioned, young people, whether they were boys or men, seemed to suddenly come to life as if they had regained their soul.
Hedy smiled and nodded, asking, "Which workshop are you an apprentice at?"
The boy relaxed noticeably, his previously distant expression softening at last. "Domenico Ghirlandaio."
When he said the name, there was a hint of pride and self-regard in his voice.
— Domenico, she had seen him at the ball a couple of days ago, surrounded by several noblewomen who were asking for portrait commissions.
The artist was a man nearing thirty, and although his fame didn’t rival that of Botticelli or Leonardo, he had his own distinct qualities.
According to Lady Clarice, another seasoned patron, the artistlikely owed his unique style to his background as the son of a goldsmith. This allowed him to highlight colors in a way that evoked a sense of opulence, and his portrayal of figures had a sculptural, three-dimensional quality.
Hedy had seen his painting The Adoration of the Magi at the Doge's Palace last year. Compared to Leonardo’s classical atmosphere and Botticelli’s ethereal sense, his work felt more vibrant in color and intense in emotion.
"But… does he have a habit of punishing you?" As they approached the high towers of the Doge's Palace, Hedy slowed her pace and, in a calm and measured tone, asked, "Are those whip marks on your body?"
"Of course not." The boy, probably having eaten only half his fill, spoke with more strength. "I’m his apprentice. I help my master transport the stone materials!"
Stone... materials?
Hedy hadn’t expected this and instinctively asked, "The kind of stone used for sculptures?"
"Yes," the boy, despite holding a large bundle, still tried to gesture with his hands to describe the size and shape. "We go out before dawn to the nearby mountains to find the best marble for sculptures. Then we use ropes to carry it back."
Clearly, there weren’t many mules available to carry the load, so everything was left to child labor.
That explained a lot—his unsteady steps while climbing the mountains, the weight and sharp edges of the stones, which could easily leave cuts and bruises.
"Once we get to the palace, change into clean clothes and apply some medicine before you go," Hedy said. She didn’t want to stop him, but simply explained, "Consider it a reward for chatting with me."
"By the way," she paused as they reached the gate to the courtyard, "what's your name?"
"Michelangelo," the boy repeated, "Michelangelo Buonarroti."
The noblewoman with the blue eyes froze for a moment, then burst out laughing, covering her face.
She couldn’t believe it—just taking a walk and she managed to pick up one of the Renaissance Three by chance.
The boy, seeing her suddenly laughing, assumed there was something on his face. He quickly wiped it off, embarrassed. "Please don’t make fun of me."
