Strange that we both should be downtrodden, I told myself, given the special circumstances of this particular day. Being that it was Sunday, we would have enjoyed a few hours of freedom after our obligatory appearance at Mass before returning to our usual duties in the afternoon. But the Master found himself with pressing business outside the castle and had announced an entire day’s holiday for his apprentices.

Still, our freedom would not be absolute. In return for this unexpected bounty, he had decreed that we were to use our time honing our craft in one way or another. This meant a day spent sketching or painting or else making detailed notes on any of the various techniques we had learned under his tutelage. But while we were on our honor to follow his wishes, none of us considered secretly sleeping or gambling away our day instead.

After all, any number of aspiring young painters was waiting in line for the opportunity to be apprenticed to the Duke of Milan’s master engineer and court artist, Leonardo the Florentine… the multitalented man of genius also known as Leonardo da Vinci.

Vittorio tossed Pio the cheese and, not waiting to be invited, dropped to the grass beside me. The hound placed insistent front paws on Vittorio’s knee and gave a polite bark to express his hope that additional food was to come. But even the enthusiastic wagging of his whiplike tail was not enough to return a smile to the young apprentice’s face. Instead, his frown deepened, and he sighed with great drama.

Retrieving my notebook, I brushed a bit of dried grass from its cover and suppressed a sigh of my own. I knew the boy would not be content to leave without hearing words of reassurance.

“I’m not mad at you, Vittorio, or at Pio,” I explained. “And I have not been avoiding you; at least, not purposely. It’s just that I-”