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When discussing matters unrelated to Hedy, he seemed to shift from his youthful innocence to a more mature, unshakable figure.
Two thousand years ago, it was called Palaiopolis.
The Romans flattened it, and the Byzantines took it over.
And up until fifty years ago, it was still under the rule of the French Angevin family.
Joanna II, with the support of the Kingdom of Aragon, rebelled during a time of instability within the Angevin family and declared independence, creating a small state.
However, this lord did not intend to fulfill the promises made earlier. As a result, after her death, the King of Aragon took control again, and upon his death, passed the position to his illegitimate son, Ferdinand I.
"What kind of person is he?" Hedy relaxed, even feeling drowsy from the gentle massage.
He couldn't be worse than Sforza.
"A tyrant," Niccolo said, his expression complicated as he glanced at the ever-changing teacher. "His latest hobby isthrowing people he dislikes to the crocodiles—apparently, he keeps them in the pond in his garden."
Hedy spoke slowly, her voice calm. "These two are coming to meet me, and neither of you is nervous?"
"Only if they are sufficiently respectful and obedient," Leonardo said calmly. "Italy is never short of guests."
"My teacher is like a lion, guarding you," Niccolo winked. "I don't think there's anything to worry about."
Hedy slowly sat up, leaning on his hand, taking her time before making her decision.
"Letting wolves into the house is the best way to catch them," her voice was cold yet gentle, as if she were merely discussing the weather. "It's fine to meet them."
The two lords received the invitation in turn, bringing their grand entourages with them.
Sforza had not expected the roads in this country to be repaired so quickly—and so wide and smooth.
As his carriage entered the main road, he noticed the bumps gradually easing, and he made sure to tell his servants that, when he returned home, they should construct several more roads like this one.
He soon arrived in Florence and was greeted with a warm and enthusiastic reception.
What a ridiculous thing, he thought.
One of the welcoming faces was a former painter of his— the one who had only completed half of the double-spiral staircase and had to tear it down and rebuild it after those years of neglect.
The other was a former fiancée—his wife, who had always been jealous and venomous. Over the years, she had grown so ugly that it was hard to even look at her.
The Old Palace had been renovated, and the atmosphere now exuded peace and joy.
Sforza noticed that even the carpets and furnishings had become much more luxurious.
The Medici family, with their vast banking, dairy, and pigment industries, now had everything. Even his own maid wore fabrics bought in Florence, known for being both light and inexpensive. It seemed they were living in an era of unimaginable wealth.
As the gates opened, he finally entered the office, where he saw a man and a woman standing and sitting.
"Sforza," the woman said, looking both regal and calm, her voice carrying a hint of authority. "Long time no see."
The man smiled, and his demeanor was completely different from before. He looked handsome and elegant, as if he too were of noble birth.
The Lord of Milan squinted his eyes and made a proper bow.
"Long time no see."
——
