Chapter Text
When Dacia, true to her word, knocked on the door of the workshop, she did not expect that Arté herself would open the door. Not only was she not in bed, but also prancing around the workshop, leaning on some fancy stick.
- Arthe, what are you?.. - Dacia searched her eyes for master Leo, but he was working at his desk, as if nothing special was going on.
- Ciao, Dacia, you're just in time! - Arte looked over her shoulder. - Master, if you don't need me here yet, can I go away for a while?
- If you won't jump under the carts again, - Leo said without turning around.
- You have my word on that. Dacia, will you give me a hand? - without waiting for an answer, Arte picked up her bag, quickly leaned on her friend's shoulder and stepped over the threshold.
Dacia came to her senses only in the middle of the street, catching several glances of passersby.
- They're staring at us, - she muttered, blushing.
- You should have seen them all staring at me a year ago when I was pulling the cartload of planks to repair the room on the roof. I had to tie up my skirt.
- But Arte, you can't do that!
- What could I do if the hem was in the way...
- That's not what I mean! I'm talking about this! - Dacia gesticulated frantically, pointing either to the stick or to her friend in general. - The healer said...
- Yes, he told me to take care and not to strain my leg, and I do, - Arte let go of Dacia's shoulder and took a few steps with the stick. - You see, I don't even step on it.
- But how did the master let you!
- Well... I managed to talk him into it.
Arte decided not to tell her friend the details of her morning pirouette on the stairs - Dacia was clearly uneasy enough as it was.
- But why, Arte? You shouldn't...
- Why? - Arte frowned. - I think it's the same reason that you've been exhausting yourself, to save more money. I realize now that I overdid it...
- That's an understatement! - Dacia felt a little strange to the role of teacher, because more often than not, Arte was the one who had been instructing her, - Arte, you're not like me...
Dacia stopped talking, but Arte already knew what she meant. Despite their friendship, both girls saw things realistically and understood that they had grown up in different worlds. And that left a mark on both of them.
Dacia worked as a seamstress from the age of eleven and lived on her own, since her parents were farmers who could barely make ends meet and could not afford to save for their daughter's dowry. Without the family support and the privileges of the nobility, without an education, Dacia's future was in her own hands, so those hands were accustomed to labor from an early age. The girl had to learn early on the injustices of the world and get used to deal with hardship without expecting the gifts of fortune.
However, friendship with Arte changed Dacia's seemingly preordained fate. By learning to write and count, she could count on a more lucrative job and a better match. And beyond that, she gained hope and self-esteem.
As for Arte herself, compared to Dacia, her life before the age of fifteen was like that of a flower behind the glass of a greenhouse. Though her family was not wealthy, they were noble, and Arte grew up surrounded by servants and her mother was vigilant to keep her daughter from overexerting herself.
"You are a child of a noble family, not a peasant girl; it is not proper for you to run around in sweat and carry weights. No man would look at you with rough hands and a weathered face!" - she scolded Arte every time she ran off with her drawing utensils to the nearest grove to draw from nature.
And so it wasn't easy for Arte to deal with the harsh life of an apprentice. For the first few months her body ached so much that in the evenings she couldn't sleep, even tho she was exhausted. Bruises and abrasions were her constant companions, and sometimes she despaired of the effort it cost her to do the rough work that was commonplace for others. And though a year in the workshop had hardened her noticeably, Arte had never been rid of her hereditary pampering to the end.
And just as Dacia envied Arte's aristocratic refinement deep down in her heart, so Arte secretly envied her friend's strength and unpretentious resilience. And she understood that some things cannot be changed by diligence, she understood that she was unlikely to become as strong as the apprentice men.
But maybe she also had something that they would never have?
And maybe she will realize what is it if she continue on her own path, without looking back at others?
And even if there would be new falls along the way - Arte decided not to give in to fear anymore!
After all, she has enough time to learn everything... And there are people to lean on.
- Arte? - Dacia looked anxiously at her friend.
- Yes, Dacia, sorry... I guess you're right. - she smiled guiltily. - But even though we're different, we have more in common!
- Eh?
- We're both trying to achieve something more, right? We're both trying to get over ourselves... and we both fall down sometimes...
Dacia was embarrassed, realizing that Arte was alluding to the circumstances of their first meeting-when Dacia had collapsed in a hungry faint in the middle of the street.
- ...but we're going up anyway. - Arte laughed and held up a finger. - And while I still have some free time, let's continue the lesson. We were so rudely interrupted yesterday...
With these words, Arte reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of paper sheets stitched at one end with coarse twine.
- Here, a notebook. It will be more convenient now!
***
- Show me how you're doing, - Leo leaned over Arte's shoulder, watching her apprentice apply the shadows.
Arte moved aside to let the master evaluate the work done, and at the same time she loosened the shoulders. As usual, immersed in the painting, Arte could not take her eyes off the canvas for hours, and only now realized how numb her body from immobility became.
- Not bad. But watch how the light falls. The more lit areas focus the viewer's attention on the key details of the composition, - Leo took the brush from Arte's hands and improved the folds of Madonna's robes, giving them more volume and texture.
- I see, - Arte held out her hand as she waited for Leo to return the brush, but Leo glanced to the darkening window and placed it with the rest of the tools waiting to be cleaned.
- Finish it tomorrow.
- But I can still make it... - the girl protested at once.
- The work is too delicate for candlelight. You can see the contrast better in the daylight. Besides, you needn't overwork, we have enough time to finish it.
Arte tempted to argue, but remembering the master must have already used up all his reserves of patience this morning, she started to gather her tools obediently.
- Fine. I'll just tidy up...
With a familiar gesture of reaching for the staff beside her, Arte stood up... and staggered.
It had been a hard day, and though she had forgotten about sore leg during the work, now it became so bad that Arte could barely contain groaning, clutching onto the back of the chair. Two embarrassing falls in one day was too much!
But her face was so drawn with pain, that Leo fixed his gaze on her.
- I'll finish it, - he paused at the foot of the stairs and looked back at his apprentice.
It took Arte a moment to find out what the master was expecting.
- Oh, you don't have to do that. I really can handle it myself!
- Just like this morning? - Leo raised his brow. - We have already talked about that yesterday, so don't waste the time.
Arte swallowed. It's one thing when everything happens unexpectedly, and another is to grab Leo's outstretched hand and consciously let him pick her up.
Arte was reminded again of that ill-fated autopsy, after which the master had had to run away, unceremoniously grabbing her in his arms. Though that time Leo had simply shouldered her like a sack of flour and Arte herself had been too stunned and frightened by the furious chase, the memories of that day still sent shivers down her spine.
Since then Arte had sworn not to let her guard down and, following Veronica's advice, had not allowed herself to think any embarrassing things, but now her stamina was ready to crack.
In order not to betray her confusion as they climbed the stairs, Arte ordered herself to look anywhere but at the master, who might well have sensed the heat rushing to her cheeks.
But even without looking, Arte couldn't help but notice how carefully Leo was carrying her, how firmly his palms wrapped around her shoulders and under knees...
... and that she liked it!
She liked it, so did the earthy, waxy smell of freshly mixed paints, oils, and wood shavings, all the smells that had soaked into Leo's skin and that Arte had remembered from the very first day in the workshop, when, scratching and sweating, she had prepared twenty boards for the tempera.
And then, on the second flight of stairs, Arte suddenly noticed a pale scar on Leo's swarthy skin just under the collar of his shirt, and involuntarily wondered where it could have come from...
She came round when her heart was already dangerously pinched.
- Arte, - Leo's deep voice against her ear sent shivers down the back of her neck. It was either fear or...
- Wh-what?
- Did you really think I'd kick you out because you hurt your leg?
With surprise, Arte opened her eyes wide and looked directly at the master. But, seeing no anger or irritation in his eyes, she decided to answer honestly.
- Well... you said once that if I was to bother you, you would drive me away...
- What... - Leo silenced.
Perhaps when Arte just appeared in the workshop, he could have said something like that so that the apprentice wouldn't think her difficulties were over, and now she could relax. Besides, he was annoyed by her noisy restlessness...
But over the past year she had never been careless or complaining about anything, no matter how hard it had been.
Maybe for a while, just when she took her first order to do a Veronica portrait, she behaved absent-mindedly, but then she came to her senses and since then has proved her usefulness and undeniable talent more than once.
Even her incessant chirping had become habitual to Leo...
Yes, Arte had made mistakes, she had suffered from her naiveness and inexperience, but that was the fate of any apprentice.
And it had never even occurred to Leo to get rid of her. Especially on such a low reason!
Was she really that frightened of him...
Or was it because she believed everything he said so completely?
Leo suddenly imagined that the bright roof-house was deserted, that he would no longer hear the cheerful "Good morning, master!" and would never see those burning blue eyes under the golden bangs...
And he caught his breath.
And so inappropriately, that Leo stumbled on the last step to the roof!
- Ma-ah! - Arte clutched at the collar of his shirt in a fright, but Leo managed to keep his balance.
- Sorry.
The moment their faces were so close, Arte managed to notice something resembling embarrassment in the master's gaze, but in the next second Leo lowered her onto the warm stones of the roof and turned away, as if attracted by the sunset glow on the dome of Santa Maria del Fiore .
- It's a nice view from here. You can't see that from the streets below.
- Yeah, - Arte shot a glance at the tiled roofs, over which the evening chime of the bells of the Giotto Campanile had just floated.
Both Arte and Leo stood in silence until the last solemn chimes melted into the sky above the city. Then the master suddenly spoke:
- My childhood was spent in the streets, and there you either fight or die. After that, in the workshop, I often had to solve problems with fists. Once I got into such a bad fight with another apprentice that I hurt wrist and couldn't move arm properly for a week. It recovered, but that event taught me a good lesson.
Arte stared at the tall figure of the master, outlined by the last glow of the passing day. Sometimes she forgot that Leo had grown up in incomparably harsher conditions than she had.
It hadn't even occurred to Arte that Leo could be hurt or sick, either. In her present life, he was a constant, immutable and reliable. But even so...
- I get it.
- Good, - Leo started toward the trapdoor, but froze halfway through, glancing back at his apprentice, disheveled, with paint marks on her fingers and a wrinkled dress.
While he was carrying her, Leo noticed that Arte had grown noticeably stronger and taller in the past few months, but she was still surprisingly frail.
And, now that she had cut her hair and spent more time outside with her head uncovered, her neck and shoulders were dotted with golden freckles... But her skin was still pale and delicate, so unlike the hardened skin of commoners like him.
Who would have thought that this oddball noble girl, who had appeared in his workshop only a year ago, would prove so resistant that she would manage to adapt, become part of this place, change herself... and change everything around her.
Including him.
- Uh, Master Leo, - Arte smiled awkwardly. - My stick. I left it downstairs.
- Let's keep it there. So you won't get the idea of trying to go down again in the morning.
From the sight of Arte's face first confused and then turned red in annoyance, Leo still could not help smiling and added, already going down.
- And remember, if masters were to throw away apprentices for trivial matters like this, the workshops would be empty.
***
Master Leo was a man of his word, as Arte was convinced, when he knocked on her cottage door the next morning and, ignoring her timid protests, took her downstairs.
And then in the evening, in the mauve sunset light on the roof, they listened to the bells together again...
A day later maître Paolo visited the workshop again and, after a thorough examination of Arte's leg, pronounced that the injury had almost healed and the signorina could return to her usual routine, albeit with some precautions.
Arte almost jumped for joy, but then suddenly felt sad.
- What's the matter? - Leo asked, used to much more wild displays of joy of his apprentice. - Don't want to go back to your usual duties?
- It's not that, - Arte twirled the already unnecessary stick in her hands, but caught the puzzled master's look, hastily averted her gaze. - No, that's nothing...
Life in the workshop was back to normal. Neither Leo nor Arte knew that in a couple of weeks, the Council of the Artists Guild would raise the question of the girl's right to be an apprentice and they would have to take part in the painting of the palace.
There more challenges lay ahead. And though neither Arte nor much less Leo would admit it out loud, yet sometimes they both reminisced about those few tumultuous days.
And, stopping on the stairs, they smiled without knowing why.