In the past few weeks, my routine has consisted of reading books, visiting the almost finished Tre Rane and if Giuliano's not busy, he'd spend some time with me. I didn't realize that aside from the two painter's skills in painting, they also have a passion for cooking.
Truth be told, I enjoy my time in Tre Rane more than I care to admit. The two are just playful and amusing when they are together. The eccentricities of Da Vinci complement the serious and soft-spoken nature of Botticelli. Few more weeks and they'll be ready to open.
Time flies so fast recently. The air starts to get colder by the day. When Tre Rane opened, a lot of his friends came in to celebrate and try their artistic menus. Unfortunately, neither Lorenzo nor Giuliano was able to attend the opening as Giuliano is in Milan, while Lorenzo is busy with the bank.
Since I am quite not familiar with the faces in the room, I sat alone by the far end of the table, watching as the event unfolds. In a few moments, Da Vinci emerges with a plate in hand as he walks toward me with a grin on his face. "Chicken pie for the lady." He said as he set it down in front of me.
The pie was exceptionally beautiful and enticing to eat. I smiled proudly at him. "This looks and smells amazing, Da Vinci."
He then sat down on the chair across from me and lean his elbows on the table. "How many times do I have to tell you that you can call me Leonardo?"
I pinched my lips before speaking. "Alright, Leonardo. I see you guys are quite busy." I said, gesturing towards the people eating before taking a bite for myself.
Leonardo simply shrugged. "Yes, well they all are simply curious and probably betting on us closing down immediately."
Laughing a little bit, I shake my head before responding. "I don't believe that. They are here to support you both! Speaking of which, why are you out here?"
"Oh don't worry about little barrel. After all, I did invent a few tools to make cooking faster, and also we hired a few cooks to help us."
"Alright, if you say so," I said, before digging into my pie.
"You know, I notice the way he looks at you." He said all humor disappeared in his tone, surprising me a bit.
"W-what? I didn't notice. We're friends! We're only friends. Besides, he's too busy with painting and now with this inn as well." I said, speaking a lot faster than I intended to, making my cheeks blush.
When I looked up at him, his hand is resting on his chin, thinking hard. "I see, but I didn't mention any names, Antonia." He said, his brows wiggling as he glances at me with a playful look.
"Oh..." Was the only thing I could manage to make Leonardo laugh hard.
"So, you like little barrel." He whispered, leaning closer toward me. "Then why are you spending time with Giuliano?"
Not being able to put the subject off anymore, I decided to be truthful to Leonardo. Despite his idiosyncratic behavior, I trust him with my life. "I do like Botticelli but he still has some lingering feelings towards someone who resembles me. I didn't want him to see someone else whenever he looks at me." I said, my voice so low, that it almost sounded like a whisper.
"I'm aware that he was deeply attracted to Simonetta but isn't she married anyway? Not to mention dead."
"I've seen sketches of her in his studio and he labeled it his beloved. Even Marco says he's aware of Botticelli's feelings towards his late wife." I said, pouting in the process.
"To be honest, all I hear are excuses. I have never seen him completely enamored towards anyone other than you."
I know he has a point but I couldn't bring myself to believe it. "I am happy with how we are at the moment, Leonardo. Things are better and neither of us is hurt."
"I see the two of you and neither of you is completely happy either." My gaze when down to the table, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. How can I entertain my feelings towards Botticelli when I have let Giuliano court me? "You're my friend now too, Antonia. I'll respect your decision. I just hope the decision you choose is for yourself and not for anybody else." He continued, rendering me speechless.
Our silence was interrupted when Botticelli emerged. "Stop lounging about." He said, tapping Leonardo's shoulders in the process making him shrug and leave. When he was out of earshot, he then sat down across from me. "Are you doing alright?" He asks, and then I nodded as I take another bite of the food. "Forgive me, I thought Giuliano would be able to accompany you."
Smiling, I shake my head no. "It's quite alright, Botticelli. I don't mind sitting alone. Besides, everyone seems to be enjoying themselves in your inn. Has anyone booked so far?"
"Yes, some people are occupying the inn. It's also a great way for Leonardo to find patrons."
"That's nice of you. He's lucky to have a friend like you." His face softens as I said those words. I try to look away from his eyes but for some reason, I couldn't look away. All of a sudden, the words of Leonardo swim in my head, and my eyes peeled away from his. "I-I think I need to go," I said, standing up.
Botticelli stood up as well. "I see. Let me walk you out."
Smiling at his sweetness, I shake my head no and pat his arm. "You don't have to. You have a lot of things to do." I said, gesturing over at Leonardo who is now shaking his head towards Botticelli.
He looked over at his shoulders and then look back at me. "Alright. Be safe." He said. As I start walking away, I heard a metal fall on the ground. When I look down, I realized that my key fell from my pocket. Botticelli kneels to get it for me but stops midway and studies the bow of the key. Standing up, his eyes lingered on the key. "I've seen this before."
"My father gave it to me," I said as he hands it over. Grabbing the key back, his eyes furrow as if trying to remember something.
"I'm afraid I can't bring myself to remember much about the key."
A glimmer of hope soon arises in me. If he remembers, I'll be able to find where this key leads. I'll be able to see my father's final gift. "If you remember, please let me know. It's very important."
"I will." He said, and with that, I smile one last time before walking away.
If Botticelli knows of the key, It could only mean that my father has this key made in this century. Hopefully, he remembers soon.
Franzia brings me another cup of wine as I read the manuscripts of Dio Cassius. My eyes are quite tired but I pushed on. "It's getting late, Antonia. Won't you come to bed to rest for the day?" She asks full of concern.
"Thank you for the wine, Franzia. Don't worry, I'll rest in a few. I want to read some more." I responded with determination, smiling up at her standing form.
"Alright. Good night." She walks towards the door and closes it behind her. Page after page I started to learn more about the emperors, Caligula, and Claudius. Right before I finish on Claudius, Dio Cassius mentions a Celtic tribe called Iceni, who made a treaty with the Romans.
The King of Iceni was called Prasutagus, he lived and died as a king. In his death, the Romans tried to take the Iceni territories causing a revolt led by the warrior queen of Iceni called Boudicca.
1930, London
"Come on, time to bed, pumpkin," Dad said, as he switches the lights in my bedroom as I walk towards my bed.
Tucking me in, he pokes my nose and smiles. "Dad, won't you tell me a story before I sleep?" I ask, pouting as I plead.
He then sat down on a stool next to my bed and sigh. "Alright. Do you have a story you have in mind?"
I know he's tired, I can see how sleepy he is in his eyes but he pushes on and smiles down at me. "Tell me the story about the woman in the statue we saw in Hyde Park."
"Alright." He said, clearing his throat before he starts. "A long time ago, a peaceful tribe of Briton called Iceni populates East Anglia. They made a treaty with the Romans to preserve peace in their lands. Upon the death of King Prasutagus, the Romans decided to overlook the treaty and take the land for themselves."
"What? But Dad, I thought Romans are good people?"
He smiles sweetly at me and brushes my cheeks. "Pumpkin, in life things are a lot more complicated than labeling things with good and evil." When I look at him dumbfounded, he chuckled. "You'll understand when you get older. Back to the story, the Romans would have succeeded if it weren't for the warrior queen and wife of Prasutagus named Boudicca. She revolted and raised a rebellion in the whole of East Anglia against the Romans. They won many times until the battle of Watling Street. With the Romans' thick armor, shield, and long spears, the Britons fell."
Gasping, I bring my blanket up to my lips then abruptly bring it down to my chest and spoke, "What happened to her?"
"Boudicca lived, however, no one knew what happened to her afterward. Some say, she either drank poison or died from shock or illness."
Pouting, I jerk my head to one side. "If she didn't win, why built a statue for her?"
"I think it's because of Queen Victoria's name. You see, Boudicca means victory."
"But what do you think, Dad?"
"I think Boudicca represents hope. She may not have been the victor, but she showed the enemy that the Britons would not cower down whenever it's convenient."
"Do you think the loss of the rebellion killed her?"
"Maybe," He said, shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe not. Either way, her valor is now immortalized to inspire many people in the future." Dad is so wise. I wish I could be like him in the future. "Time to sleep, pumpkin."
"Good night, Dad," I said smiling at him.
He smiles back then lowers his face to kiss my forehead before whispering, "Good night, my little Emma." Then he switches the lights off and left the room as I doze off.