The Secret Muse (#1)

Chapter 44

Nothing. I got no word from either Lorenzo or Lucrezia. I have implored both of them through letters that Botticelli sent out for me. For months of persistence, it leads me to nothing.

He was only 7 months in my belly when he came out and any verbal confirmation of his survival is enough for me but I have not received a single response.

Their true loyalties lie in their family and since I am not one of them, I am only a simple inconvenience. I pray every day for his survival. I wasn't even able to name him. Giuliano and I never had the time.

I would have been engulfed in loneliness if it wasn't for Botticelli's visits. Talking about mythologies and history has become a coping mechanism for both of us. It would take a few more months before Lorenzo would be back in Florence and having them away made my life simpler and quiet.

I guess if I wouldn't think about them taking away my son, I would have been in a better state.

Sometimes, I wish I just left without confirming my pregnancy here. At least then, maybe Giuliano would be alive and my son would have been with me. I miss him. Even in dreams, I would see him and hold him in my arms only to wake up not remembering what my son looked like.

Did he take after me or Giuliano? Is the color of his hair as red as mine or as dark as his? I had so many questions and I do not know if I will ever find the answer to them.

"Why did you take me here?" I ask Botticelli as we enter his studio. It was filled with unfinished panel paintings and drawings, the smell of paint fills the air and Botticelli walks towards a panel he has covered with cloth.

When I finally stood next to him, he slowly took off the cloth to reveal the portrait that Giuliano had commissioned.

Botticelli looked at the painting and said, "I finished this a few months ago but I am not certain what to do with it. None of the Medici is here and I'm not sure if it was the right time to show it to you.

I do not know if you want to keep it, so I am asking you what do you want to do with it?" He then looks into my eyes filled with sympathy and compassion.

If I'm being honest, I do not know what I want to do with this portrait. As beautiful as it is, the portrait only brings out the memories I want to bury deep inside me. Every single aspect of this painting screams Medici's wealth and power.

From the detailed ornaments on my hair, down to the necklace and the dress. Giuliano commissioned it as a gift before we got married and now, it suddenly becomes nothing. "I do not know," I said. My feelings struggled to escape from my lips.

"I can keep it here until you decide what you want to do with it." He said as he covered it again.

"I'm sorry to have wasted your talents on me," I said, looking away in shame.

"I have always tried to bring out the beauty I see in my works. The beauty I see has always been constant and unfading. Painting you has always been a privilege." He was always known to be the master of beauty even when he doesn't realize it and to be given a compliment by him is overwhelming and humbling.

I can only smile, too speechless to say or formulate a response to him as he smiles back at me.

I was about to leave when I caught a glimpse of a portrait I thought I would not see again. Instead of heading for the door, I walk towards it with a look of longing. Giuliano's eyes are closed in his portrait but he captures him nonetheless.

"You love him don't you." It was more of a statement than a question.

Looking back, everything that I shared with Giuliano is both precious and horrifying at times. I feared him once and then told him that I loved him. A lot can happen in a year. It can completely change the way you feel for a person and how you see them, but I no longer feel confused or blinded by grief.