Florence, Italy
1493
Blazing late morning light still streams in through the window. It shines on the polished floor and rich tapestries in the vestibule room of the palace. A clock ticks next to me on the table. The scene has been the same every morning for many years.
The rotund elderly man enters the room just after the clock makes a ringing noise. Today he is more excited than usual. He quickly makes his way to the door, and throws it open. Warm air rushes in. A man, nay, a boy walks in, shy, unsure. He speaks.
Buongiorno, signore Medici.
Buongiorno, signore Buonarotti. I am so glad you could come. Please, come in.
He steps forward, taking in the surroundings with a trained eye. He meets my blank gaze and he is slightly startled.
The cat is a beautiful piece. It bears the marks of age well. It is interesting.
Why yes, it has been in the Medici family and in this very room for generations now. I do not know where it comes from. Such a shame that its tail seems to have been broken at some point.
I am hoping that you can also help me in creating something which bears the marks of age well!
But first, let us have something to eat. Come in, come in!
I watch the older and younger man leave the room, entering the inner chambers.
