Page 164 - The Grotesque Children's Book

4,000 soldi in it for you. But no, strike that! The ceilings!” he gasped. “You have all those
ceilings to finish. Oh, damn, no, no, no, no! I'll have to find someone else to commission for
Bianca's portrait.” He wrung his hands, as he had seen the commedia actors do in the theatre so
effectively.

“I pray you, your Majesty, do not find someone else. I can do it.” 4,000 soldi! Who
couldn't paint a woman's portrait for 4,000 soldi? I have to have that commission.

“But you're so far behind already, Allori.” Duke Francesco frowned. “Don't think I
haven't noticed. I have eyes like a falcon. I see everything. I am everywhere. You are falling
behind. You are failing me.”

“No, your Majesty. I have all them all sketched out, all the ceilings,” Allori said,
spreading his arms wide and high to exude confidence. “The slow part of the process is past.
The speediest part begins just next week, in fact.” Careful, Alessandro, he inhaled to himself,
he'll catch you in the lies and, and woebetide traitors to the House of Medici. Allori added, “I
assure you, all the bays are plotted out in my head. Just now a matter of slapping up the paint.
Let me have the honor of the commission for Her Majesty's portrait. I already have some ideas
where to hide the seashell.”

“Where!? Oh, tell me, tell me. No, don't tell me! Surprise me, Allori. I want to be
surprised. In fact, yes, you must paint Bianca's portrait in her private chambers where I'm not to
see it as you work on it. You will have access to her chamber, where she will sit for you and you
alone, in her newly-made gown of gold and white with the mystic codex woven into her
brocade.” Francesco lowered his voice and a terrible darkness seeped into his half-Spanish eyes.
“I can trust you, can't I?”

Trust me. Does he mean with his wife? Or with the existence of the ridiculous codex in
her painting? “With my head on a seashell, your Majesty.”

“Good man!” Francesco roared. “But! There isn't much time, Allori. You must paint
her quickly. She will not last long, my Bianca.” Francesco looked suddenly far off to his left,
then cocked his head, as though hearing the lapping of a distant shore. It was the briefest of
moments; the first time Francesco had stopped speaking or moving all the conversation long.
Allori shivered. But then, Francesco's eyes crinkled again with his usual cheery laughter-lined
face. “I mean of course, she will not last long in your chair, posing for the portrait. I mean only
that she is so full of energy and curiosity that she won't sit still very long for you, Allori. You
must paint very quickly.”

“Understood, your Majesty. Bless the Duchess for being so energetic! Long may she
live.”

“But short will she sit.”

“So perhaps with your permission I might hire a girl to sit for me, in the gown, in the
Duchess's pose?”

“A girl, to wear the Duchess's gown?”

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