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- So, you saw him with your own eyes? - Rosetta, the girl from the sewing shop, asked eagerly, and the women gathered around the well, their eyes burning with curiosity. - The Emperor himself?
- Yes, I was introduced to him at the Castilian court, - Arte threw back her scythe to make it easier to draw water in her bucket. - But I think that was the only time I ever saw him up close.
Arte decided not to mention that she was so desperately timid in front of the royal person that she didn't even remember his face - all her energy was spent on keeping up with court etiquette, not to stumble and to pronounce her greeting in Castilian correctly.
But noticing the disappointment on the faces of the women around her, Arte added:
- He seemed like a solid and confident man, although I didn't have the opportunity to get to know him better. Admittedly, I had so much work to do that I hardly ever left my rooms.
- This’s how it is, - Rosetta said, twisting the well gate. - To think that not so long ago you were in the Queen's service, and now you're back to fetching water as a simple city girl.
- And we have the honor of communicating with such a top dog! - the other woman chuckled. - Although I hear that your new workshop is doing well again, so you can afford to hire a maid without having to fetch water yourself.
- I just like it, - Arte smiled ingenuously. – Good work keeps me in shape. Besides, otherwise I would miss opportunity to chat with all of you.
Smiles blossomed on the women's faces, and Arte once again remembered Azucenna and her lessons in courtly behavior with gratitude. Whether they were noble Castilian maids of honor or mere servants, they were all equally flattered that someone valued their attention.
- And tell me, is it true that in Castile on holidays in the streets let out furious bulls, and everyone runs away from them? - Rosetta kept up, but before Arte could answer, another woman was ahead of her.
- What nonsense! Who in their mind would agree to such a thing?
- It's not nonsense at all! – Rosetta resented. - One merchant told me that he had seen a bull trample at least ten people to death like that. Isn't that true, Arte?
- Eh-h, I'm so sorry, bot I have to go already, - Arte hastily filled her buckets. - See you tomorrow!
As she turned the corner, she could still hear the echoes of the boiling argument.
Arte wasn't lying, she actually liked going to get water - it helped to cheer up in the morning, and as well she could catch up on the latest news. Although chatting with the neighborhood girls was no substitute Arte’s friendship with Dacia, it warmed her heart to hear the laughter and see faces unmarred by hardship.
If the women could once again gossip carefree at the well, then the city was once again full of life, healed the sores of war.
After cold winds and heavy rains of the first post-war winter, Florence was finally warming into the arms of spring - the hills around the city had turned green, and fields were once again being cultivated, giving hope for a good harvest this year.
The streets and courtyards were drown in lilac wisteria clouds, and Arte breathed in the fragrant scent with pleasure as her feet carried her along the familiar way. And out of habit, she slowed step to look the facade of the new workshop from afar. Her and Leo's workshop.
It had been decided to rebuild it in the same place, although the layout had been changed. There was no longer a shed on the roof, which had once served as a house for Arte, but another floor was added; also the workshop was expanded by the nearby house, whose owner had left during the war and agreed to give up part of his shop at a reasonable price. Now there was enough space not only for a couple of artists, but also for a few servants or apprentices, although Leo still had no intention of taking new apprentices.
- I don't need someone else as loud and rowdy as you, - the master said as they decided what to do with the still-empty rooms.
- Well, someone as me is unlikely to be found, - Arte grinned, and Leo didn't argue with that.
Arte had never had to start from scratch before. Even in a foreign land, she had been provided with palace quarters and maids. She did not have to worry about the price of tools, nor did she have to haggle with contractors, assess the quality of materials, coordinate the plan with carpenters and masons, and make sure the work was done on time.
But Arte was never ashamed to admit that she was ignorant about something, and she was ready to be a patient apprentice again, while Leo took most of the cares on himself, as soon as he got the coveted quota for rebuilding.
- It may be nothing to you, but I won't forget how you pulled me out of the fire! - Master Aroldo laughed at the look of Leo's mute amazement, after giving him a certificate bearing the personal seal of Alessandro de Medici, the new ruler of the Florentine Republic.
It was Aroldo and those guild masters who has already returned to the city and assessed their work, who had secured permission and provided men for help in rebuilding.
- I'll try to get it done as soon as possible and help the other workshops, - Leo replied, and only a slight tremor in his voice betrayed his true feelings.
- I see, - Aroldo grinned good-naturedly glancing at Arte, intently reading the document fiddling the end of her braid. - With such a charming wife, I'd also try to get my own house as soon as possible.
Arte blushed uncontrollably, but Leo put on his trademark expression of scowling courtesy, which was creepy to many, but hardly fooled the old guild master.
Though they made no secret of it, the wedding ceremony in the Oniissanti* church was modest considering the post-war and in fact a mere formality. The two newlyweds' thoughts focused on the future workshop.
Arte guessed that Leo was simply unused to having someone caring about his plight, and could not show his gratefulness in other way then working as hard as he could. That's why she also tried to keep up, listen, watch and not timid to ask the workers with stern looks and wiry hands why they used one rock for the load-bearing walls and another for the partitions, what the composition of the bonding mortar and how the tiles were laid. The men grumbled at first, but seeing Arte's inquisitive smile, they softened little by little and started to answer the questions.
Arte took up her tablet again, sketching growing walls, construction mechanisms and workers, feeling no less beauty in this than in the portraits she painted for the Castilian princess. Her hands were already itching to get back to work, and sometimes, unable to bear it, Arte would grab a bucket of mortar or a box of tools and run through the woods to the amazed exclamations of men.
“Fire woman!” some shook their heads, while others, who knew Arte when she was still an apprentice, just chuckled.
So, step by step, the construction, which began in late autumn, was completed shortly before the Feast of the Annunciation, which celebrated the New Year in Florence, so Arte and Leo could see from the window of new their home those amazing fireworks which, according to rumors, the new Head of Florence paid for from own pocket.
The Medici really did everything to show that only under their rule the city would prosper. Although many said that all this was just to throw dust in eyes, a couple of artists did not care about it - a new life had finally arrived for them.
- Sorry, I’m late! - placing the buckets by the stairs, Arte waved hand to husband.
- Questioning at the well again? – Leo stepped back from the shelves, holding a pot of pigment and several sets of brushes in each hand.
- How did you... ahh... - lately Leo, who woke up before her anyway, often went to fetch water himself, allowing Arte to soak in bed a little longer. Probably, in this way he tried to compensate for the lack of sleep, which had become commonplace with them since the workshop was completed and a comfortable bed appeared in the bedroom.
- Perhaps I shouldn’t chat pointlessly... - muttered Arte, involuntarily blushing.
- Vice versa, that can make sense, - Leo objected. - What the maids gossip about soon comes to the owners. Even if they have not yet heard of you or seen your works, many will wish to have their portrait painted by an artist who served the Castile princess.
- Unless they find out why I had to leave for Castile, - Arte said, feeling the joy in her chest fade. The girl's gaze turned to her workplace - now she was working on a pastoral landscape, on which they would later depict a scene from the life of the holy family.
Since the wave of post-war devastation subsided and merchants and nobles began to return to the city, work in the craft quarters has also started to boil. Their workshop worked almost all the time on paintings with religious subjects, but there were no orders for portraits, and Arte could not help but think whether the war was to blame for this, which turned people to thoughts about the soul rather than the flesh… Or whether it was because of herself, the long-standing cardinal's accusation and the arrest that tarnished her reputation.
- Hey, - noticing that Arte despondent, Leo gently pulled her by a golden strand that had escaped from braid. - You were not here when the uprising broke out, when the cardinal Silvio had to flee to escape the angry crowd. Now even the current ruler canceled his previous decrees. You don't have to be afraid anymore.
Leo tucked a strand of hair behind Arte's ear, running his fingers along her cheek, but before the girl came to her senses, he had already retreated to his tools as usual.
– By the way, breakfast is in the kitchen.
- Uh, thanks... but what is this? – Arte only now noticed that on Leo’s easel, instead of a tempera board, there was a rectangular frame with the canvas stretched on it.
- Hm, - Leo looked back at the easel, - didn’t you try working with oil paints in Castile?
- No, just tempera.
- I experimented with the technique of the Flemish masters in last time. Tempera dries faster, but oil paints give warmer and richer colors, - Leo nodded at the bottles and tools for mixing paints prepared on his table. - I want to try tempera as a primer and paint on top with oil.
- Ah! I've heard about this! – leaning closer, Arte touched the canvas, curious with an unusual texture and elasticity of the canvas. - Leonardo da Vinci used something like this?
- Yes, although he worked on the wood boards. But oil paint is more flexible, so you can paint with it not only on a hard base, but also on canvas. The primer takes much more time, each layer dries for about 10 hours, but such a painting will weigh much less and is easier to transport. This means, it will be possible to accept orders and send paintings even to other cities.
Arte remembered the charred paintings piled in a heap on the threshold of the burning palazzo. How many other works of art were lost during the war! If the paintings were not so bulky, if they could simply be rolled up like a piece of fabric, the owners could take them or hide in a more secure place...
- I'm still working on the composition of the paint. I used to mix the pigment with linseed oil, now I’ll try safflower oil, - Leo took a small bottle from the table. - Maybe it is worth adding a yolk...
He fell silent, noticing Arte's burning gaze, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
- Want to try yourself?
Arte jumped, just as if she still was an apprentice.
- Yes! – picking up the buckets, she rushed headlong into the kitchen, - I’ll just carry the water!
- And have breakfast in peace, - Leo said after her, unable to contain his smile, - I won’t start without you.
From the outside, it might seem that little has changed in their lives. They still shared responsibilities, sometimes staying late at work, and Leo still gave Arte some instructions. But now they talked more - during breaks and work, at lunch and in the evenings, in fact anytime and about everything – how they lived all these years, routine affairs and what they never used to tell before. After Lady Irene, Leo was the only one with whom Arte spoke about her father and about meeting mother before leaving, and in return, she finally learned about Leo’s past, his youth in the workshop and about his master Ezio. Arte felt that it was hard for Leo to talk about war and the siege, but he patiently answered her questions, and it seemed that every word freed him from the memories oppression. However, with much greater interest Leo listened to how Arte settled down at the Castilian and then at the Portuguese court.
And even though out of habit from time to timed he blamed Arte for talkativeness, tenderness in the man’s eyes revealed how much he really missed this eccentric fuss.
Sometimes the young woman stopped mid-sentence, catching the deep gaze of her former master - all thoughts swept out of head, and Arte felt tightness under ribs, not anxiously, as once in early youth, but warm and sweetly.
Arte still flared up sometimes when husband was putting hand on her shoulder or slightly hugging her, leaning over the easel. But these touches have already become as vital as a sip of water after hours of work or the taste of freshly baked bread.
That’s why although Arte now had her own workroom, comfortable and light, she still preferred to put her easel in Leo’s room, so that even if they were engrossed in work, they could still touch each other’s shoulders or hands.
- It would be great if paintings became easier to transport, - Arte thought out loud when, having finished mixing the paints and leaving canvas to dry, each of them returned to main work. - Not only for profit! On the road or in a foreign city, it’s always nice to see something that reminds you of home. Do you remember that portable altar that you gave me before leaving for Venice? Every time I looked at him, I seemed to gain more strength. And then in Castile I often thought about altar and regretted that I've couldn't take it with me...
- Sorry that I couldn't save it.
- What? – Arte straightened up, only now noticing that Leo had put down his brush and turned to her. - No, it doesn’t matter! Of course, he was dear to me, but...
Arte knew that during the siege, when it became clear that the workshop could not be saved, Leo tried to sell and exchange most of the valuable things, and the altar, among other works of art, probably went to the looters. But Leo still blamed himself for not being able to protect the things that belonged to Arte and were abandoned after her hasty flight.
- You did the right thing by getting rid of everything that could attract robbers! So many people killed or died from hunger, not wanting to part with their valuables... - Arte faltered. - Well, now you can make a new altar, better than the previous one! Maybe you can write the next one for me?
Leo continued to look at her, and Arte cursed her boneless tongue.
- It’s not that I’m going to go somewhere and need a portable altar... I’d just be glad if...
Arte never had time to finish her clumsy thought - in three quick steps Leo found himself nearby, and the next moment the girl only gasped, finding herself pressed against the closet, and Leo’s calloused fingers lay on her chin. Arte closed eyes, feeling warm breath fanning her lips, and her heart jumped desperately in her throat.
- L-Leo?..
- Sometimes it seems to me that you... that all this is just a dream,- the man said. - That I will open my eyes, and there will be war all around again. And you're gone.
- I… - Arte’s froze at the thought that she involuntarily made him remember those old horrors. She lightly touched Leo's face.
- See, I'm here.
A pot of pigments clinked pitifully on the shelf, on which Arte rested her shoulders, when Leo hugged her, pulling into a kiss. After a while, the girl herself could not keep a sigh, clinging to the folds of man's shirt and rising on tiptoes trying to smooth out the difference in height. A wide palm slid from her shoulders to waist, while the other buried in the wheat braid. Unable to resist, Arte moaned into the man's mouth, lost in the feeling of how Leo's short beard tingled her skin, creating a contrast with the soft suppleness of his lips and tongue. When they met almost half a year ago, Leo’s beard was bushy and even a mustache appeared - in a besieged city it was hard to look after, but even from such a haggard and overgrown man, she could not take her eyes off.
Sometimes Arte regretted that Leo was so gloomy - if he smiled at least a little more often, others would also notice that he was actually good-looking. On the other hand, she liked to think that her husband’s sincere smile, like a rare jewel, belonged only to her.
And in moments like this, she acutely felt that this entire amazing man belonged to her, just as she belonged to him.
Feeling that her knees were rapidly turning to jelly, Arte grabbed onto Leo’s shoulders, involuntarily trying to crawl under his shirt, feel the hot skin and ripples of muscles under her fingers. Guessing her intention, Leo moved his hands and with one jerk grabbed the woman under her hips, tearing away from the closet.
- Leo, what... Ah! – barely feeling the hard surface under her hips, Arte heard the knocky noise – it was pencils and brushes rolling from cup, which the she accidentally knocked over leaning back on the tabletop, and sheets of paper followed next, flying in all directions.
Arte sobbed when Leo’s palms ran up her bodice, stroking the roundness of her breasts covered with the shirt fabric, and his thumbs unmistakably laid on her nipples, which had already pointed.
- What If someone comes... - Arte cast a frightened glance at the door over Leo’s shoulder, but then, contradicting herself, she rolled her fingers through the tangle of the man’s dark hair, pulling him in for another kiss.
Who would have told her ten years ago that her terrifying master can kiss like that and look with such an inflamed gaze from under disheveled bangs, and she herself can almost purr, getting tangled in the hem of his shirt with naughty fingers...
Knock!
They froze, clutching each other and hardly holding breath.
- I wasn’t expecting any customers this morning, - Leo whispered hoarsely, continuing to mechanically stroke Arte’s knee under rumpled skirt.
- Me too. Maybe they have the wrong door... - Arte stammered hopefully, imagining with horror what would happen if the unexpected guest decided not to wait and opened the door himself.
Knock!!! Knock-knock-knock!
- Who you pulled the tongue, - Leo grumbled, hastily helping Arte get off the table and straightening his shirt.
- Actually, that was you, - Arte muttered under her breath and, fleeing Leo’s gaze, rushed to pick up the paper that had scattered across the floor. - Maybe it's on guild business. At the last meeting, Master Aroldo mentioned some big order...
- Hope it’s really big, - Leo muttered, throwing open the door. And froze without saying a word, so Arte even stood up on tiptoe, trying to see who was standing on the threshold.
- Well, I see you are still the same courteous, - a melodic voice rang out, from which memories came flooding back to Art: here she is, in unusual men’s clothing in the middle of a brightly dressed-up crowd, and a dazzling, like a fairy, woman is leaning towards her.
"Hang in there, boy!"
- Veronica! – Arte gladly looked out from under Leo’s elbow.
- That is much more like a welcome, - cortigiana smiled. She wore a modest but elegant traveling dress, and her luxurious hair, which usually fell loosely over shoulders, was styled in an updo. Otherwise, Veronica, as it seemed to Arte, had not changed at all over the past years.
- I’m sorry... Didn’t expect to see you, - Leo stepped back, inviting cortigiana to enter. - I didn’t hear that you came back.
- Just in last night, - Veronica gracefully sank into the offered chair. - Even none of my patrons knows yet. I have nowhere to invite them anyway - my palazzo is in such a terrible state that I asked the manager if there are any worthy craftsmen who could do the finishing work in fast. And imagine my surprise when he said that your workshop, Leo, is open again. And when I found out that you were working together with wife, an artist as well... I had to see this with my own eyes.
Veronica looked around and nodded approvingly, noting how much larger the new workshop had become. But then her gaze lingered on the mess on the table, then darted back to the artists, and an eloquent smile, so familiar to Arte, blossomed on her lips. The young woman felt herself blushing uncontrollably and tried to smooth disheveled hair without much success.
- Looks like your business is thriving, - Veronica said insinuatingly.
- Can't complain,- fortunately, unlike Arte, Leo knew how to hold his face much better and was already opening one of those wine bottles, which was very opportunely presented in gratitude for the painting by their new merchant client - a good wine, like meat in Florence was still in great short supply.
- Hard to believe that so much time passed, - Veronica sipped the wine, and then turned her gaze back to Arte. - I heard you were successful as a court artist.
- How did you know?
- There are not many women artists, let alone those who have the honor of being an artist at one of the greatest royal houses, - Veronica fell silent, moving her graceful eyebrows meaningfully. - Besides, one of my benefactors has extensive connections and has been watching your successes with interest for a long time. By the way, he sends his regards to you.
- Benefactor? - Arte frowned, remembering their mutual acquaintances. In former times, cortigiana did the aspiring artist a great favor, being the first to order a portrait from her and praising Arte in her salon. After that, many noble Florentines ordered Arte to paint portraits, but before Lady Irene, there was only one influential foreigner who appreciated her skills so much that even offered Arte his patronage.
- Are you... talking about Maitre Fallier?
- Oh yes, Maitre Yuri admitted to me that although he knew that you were aiming high, he didn’t expect it to be so high, - Veronica watched with interest as the amazement on Arte’s face fought with curiosity. - The war damaged trade, but Yuri managed to stay afloat and even increase his wealth through speculative transactions. Now he has many enemies, but nevertheless the Fallier family is prospering.
- Judging by how knowledgeable you are, you also lived in Venice, - Leo noted.
Veronica saluted the man with her glass.
- This city has always welcomed women of my, hmm, type. Although I don’t like the Venetian dampness, there were also pleasant moments, - Veronica’s hand dived into the folds of her robe, and then handed Arte a letter.
And although many years had passed, Arte immediately recognized the neat flying handwriting.
- Katarina! – young woman grabbed the letter hasty, but Veronica was not at all embarrassed.
- When the young Fallier found out that I was returning, she insisted that I give you the letter, although I assured her that you had left Florence. But she was sure that you would return, - Veronica glanced sideways at Leo. - It’s amazing how perceptive some young ladies can be.
Arte stroked the wax seal imprinted with the Fallier coat of arms. During her life at court, tired of pompous courtiers, the loneliness of her rooms and library, she loved to run to the palace kitchen, just as her young ward once did. Arte quickly found a common language with the palace servants and helped with the cooking, remembering the time spent in Venice with Catarina Fallier. She often wondered how the little mischief was doing there. Knowing Katarina's willful disposition, Arte believed that her ward would have the courage to fight for her dreams.
She couldn't wait to read the letter, and only years of drill in court etiquette under the strict guidance of Azucenna helped Arte sit still.
- When I left, Katarina tried her best to convince her parents to let her go on the next trip with her uncle. Maître Yuri expressed a desire to visit Florence to restore former trade ties, so maybe you will them again soon. If, of course, you want to greet the Venetians.
Arte was too distracted by letter, but Leo noticed how Veronica’s voice changed on the last phrase.
- Why should we be against... restoring ties? - he asked. - Florence needs any help.
- Even from traitors? - Veronica narrowed her eyes. - On my way back, I heard more than once that the Venetian Republic sold itself to Charles in order to preserve what it gained in this war. Many here consider the Venetians to be traitors and cowards abandoned Florence alone against the Spanish army.
Arte looked up and saw that although Veronica continued to smile, mournful folds appeared in the corners of her lips.
- To be honest, going here, I wasn’t even sure that you would be happy to meet me, - Veronica put down her glass and lowered her gaze, and Arte could notice the shadows under her eyes, and that cortigiana’s blush was unnaturally bright, clearly designed to hide her tired pallor a little sunken cheeks.
- What are you talking about?! – Arte moved towards her friend, squeezed her hands in hers, and only now discovered that they were cold as ice and trembling slightly.
- Let me remind you that without your help, I would not have been able to see Arte before she left, - Leo said, refilling Veronica’s glass. - I will always be indebted to you for this.
- But I left without even saying goodbye to you, Leo, - Veronica was still smiling, but through this smile, like through a cracked masquerade mask, her true feelings were visible.
- When my then lover appeared in the middle of the night, assuring that Charles’s army was already on the outskirts of the city, and Florence would be plundered like Rome, and the mercenaries would slaughter everyone, including women and children... I only came to my senses in road. I am no better than those who called traitors.
- I don’t think so, - although Leo’s voice sounded evenly, the metal familiar to Arte cut through it - the same voice he used to bring apprentice to senses when she was dreamy or doubted something. - You acted wisely... in accordance with your position. If you had stayed, it would not have ended well.
- But you stayed.
- I had no choice. And I prefer not to think about what could have been if everything had turned out differently.
Veronica's beautiful lips curled ugly when she looked at the glass that Leo almost forced into her hands, and then, without any grace, she took a deep sip and closed her eyes - tears sparkled on thick eyelashes.
- My brother also refused to leave. He joined the militia, and died last spring. We didn't really say goodbye either.
Arte had never met Veronica's brother, and only knew that the cortigiana paid for his education, and also provided for him, younger sister and mother.
Arte had neither sisters nor brothers, and she was afraid to even imagine how Veronica felt.
All she could do was forget about politeness, as well as the fear of crumpling Veronica’s dress and hair, and hug her tightly. Cortigiana froze, and then went limp and sobbed barely audibly into her friend’s shoulder, but after a couple of seconds she straightened up, and the old smile began to play on her lips.
- Thank you both. Almost a year has passed since then, and I still have a mother and sister of marriageable age, and I would not want her to follow in my footsteps. So I need to get back to business quickly and I would really appreciate it if you could help me restore my house.
- Well, - Leo cleared his throat, - first of all we need to assess the damage, I think we can find time tomorrow to inspect everything. If, in addition to finishing, more serious work is required, I will talk to the commander of the artel that rebuilt our workshop...
- I didn’t doubt you for a minute!
Seeing how readily Veronica discussed the upcoming work with Leo, Arte suddenly realized that they were very similar - for both of them, the matter served as a relief from worries and doubts. And yet, watching as Veronica put on her charming smile again, like armor, Arte was not left with anxiety. And when Leo went to the pantry to look for old sketches of ornaments for decorating the walls, she was the first to contact the cortigiana.
- Do you think that I acted stupidly by leaving court and returning to Florence?
- Why should I? - Veronica seemed surprised; however, Arte knew that it would not be difficult for the cortigiana to feign.
- You always taught me to move towards the goal and not to let my feelings guide me and...
- And yet, here we are, back and striving to restore our lives where we belong, - Veronica said with a quiet smile. - Tell me Arte, are you happy now?
Arte blurted out without any thinking:
- Yes!
- Then that's the only thing that matters, - Veronica twirled the empty glass in her thin fingers. - Maybe you are just that rare exception that confirms the rule: to survive in a man's world, a woman has to sacrifice.
Veronica’s gaze slip to some far away, and Arte suddenly realized that, despite the fame of one of the most beautiful cortigiana, and the countless number of fans and patrons, Veronica was incredibly lonely.
She remembered an old conversation, at the dawn of their friendship, when Veronica admitted that she would most likely be a Cortigiana until her death. Having chosen love as a craft, she deliberately doomed herself to a life without love.
Stunned by this thought, Arte did not immediately feel that Cortigiana squeezed her hand.
- And yet, I am very glad that I was mistaken about you. About both of you. I'm really happy.
- Happy? Why? – Leo asked, returning with a whole pile of papers.
- Because you are still true to yourself and your work, - Veronica responded matter-of-factly, stealthily winking at Arte. - By the way, I’m afraid those your wonderful portraits also gone, so I want you to paint a new one.
- S-sure! – the girl almost jumped up, as if she wanted to sit down at the easel this very minute, which caused Veronica to smile sincerely – for the first time since her arrival.
- And I’m also waiting for a story.
- A story?
- Of course! About life at court. And how you two met again.
Arte opened her mouth in confusion and looked back at Leo, who, looking at her snorted with laughter.
- Wow, for once you don’t find the words.
Veronica gasped, and Arte did not even immediately realize that this must have been the first time Leo laughed so openly in the presence of cortigiana.
- No, it’s just... - Arte waved her hands eccentrically, -...it will be a very long story.
- Well, - Cortigiana tilted her head to the side, as she did whenever Arte managed to intrigue her, - I hope we still have enough time.
After Veronica left, Arte was unusually silent for the rest of the day, and only when the windows were flooded with soft summer twilight and Leo extinguished the candles in the workshop, Arte was the first to squeeze man's hand tightly and demandingly led him up the stairs.
- Hm-m, something has come over you today, - the man grumbled, however, without objecting when Arte slightly pushed him on bed – this time not made from a pair of chests with a hard bedding of hay, but wide, with a comfortable mattress. Their bed.
- Indeed? Just me? – Arte asked, falling after him and burying her face in Leo’s chest, inhaling the smell of leather mixed with the earthy smell of pigments and primer. - I was just thinking... how lucky we really are.
Arte felt Leo's chest tremble with laughter, his palm ruffling the top of the Arte's head.
- Did you just realize?
- And, uh, Leo...
- What?
- I want to write to my mother. Until now there was no time for that, and I didn’t dare, - Arte raised head, looking at husband, biting her lip anxiously. - She will probably be angry when she finds out that I came back and got married without even notifying her... But after what Veronica said about her brother... I want to know if she is fine. And so that she also knows that I... that we... It’s so important to have time to tell...
Leo frowned, fingering Arte's locks and slowly running his fingers along the curve of her neck to the delicate hollow of collarbone.
- You can invite her to come.
- Really?! - Arte jumped up, almost hitting Leo in the ribs with elbow, but he managed to grab her hands with a grunt that could have seemed angry.
- Since there are now a couple of extra rooms anyway...
The girl snorted and, ignoring husband’s frown, hugged him, habitually sliding palm under the collar of his shirt.
- Looks like your desire to chat has returned, - Leo slightly squeezed Arte’s chin, making her to raise eyes, and nodded towards the printed letter on the table. - You were suspiciously quiet today. Bad news from Venice?
- Quite the opposite, Katarina just wrote that she… - Arte stopped mid-sentence, and then frowned in confusion. - Do you really want to talk now?
- You started first, - Leo tilted head, calmly looking at her, and only in the corners of his lips the smile subtly flicker, which Arte had already learned to distinguish...
- Are you teasing me? Really?!
- Maybe yes, or may... - Leo didn’t finish because Arte threw a pillow at him. However, she immediately regretted it when the man threw it back and immediately fell on top, pressing the squirming and giggling girl to the bed.
Maybe from the outside it might seem strange, but they didn’t ever cared.
And even though no one could see, now they laughed much more often.
*The Church of Ognissanti or the Church of All Saints is shown in Chapter 9 of the manga when Arte and Dacia attend mass, so it is likely that Arte and Leo are parishioners of this church.