Ever attentive to gossip, Salai burst into Leonardo’s bedroom.
‘Papa! Papa! Wake up!’
‘What is the meaning of this?’
‘Papa, Alessandro is dead! Murdered by bravados outside the tavern by the castello.’
Leonardo felt his stomach sink as he listened to an excitable Salai relay all the gossip he knew pertaining to the demise of the man he had chosen to paint as Christ. His innards plummeted to hitherto unknown depths of guilt with each gory detail Salai imparted. His mind similarly was awash with thoughts of self-reproach: This is all my doing? I should never have abandoned him to such a fate. Oh God, what will become of me now?
This is all my doing? I should never have abandoned him to such a fate. Oh God, what will become of me now?‘Please, leave me in peace now Salai.’ Deeply saddened
