Chapter 7
“To test if your honey is cooked, drip a drop into a bowl of sweet water. If the honey spreads, it is not. If the golden drop holds together without spreading, it is ready.”
—From the salvaged notes of A., apprentice in the kitchens of Fontainebleau c. 1530s
Henri tasted sky. It wasn’t creamy, nor sweet. But a cold, crisp bite into clouds. The cool air filled not just his stomach, but his lungs too with every short inhale. Henri felt dizzy and giddy, inflated by the mountain’s mists. If he swallowed enough sky, would he be able to fly as well as the Italians’ flying machines? He wished he’d arrived at the masque sooner. Perhaps he would have been able to see it in motion. Perhaps Cosimo had piloted it up here?
No. For as he climbed higher and higher, leaving the warmth of his
