Is that a jape, young man? You have a terrible sense of humour. You asked a young paintress, Leah Linh, to depict various aspects of my reign in an exhibition. I’m well within my rights to check that everything is present and correct, good lord!

I am a little lost. This is a modern art exhibition and I have no idea what that means. There’s stained glass, depictions of knights, a retable… All items from my era, but they look completely different. They are all, of course, very elegant and noble-looking, thanks to the paintress’s use of gold leaf. She has invented a version of the Middle Ages that is not quite the Middle Ages, but which harks back to it. She does not just ‘speak’ about me. She lets her eyes, her spirit and her hand do the talking.

In my day, we did not care much for telling the truth about one’s reign in a chronicle, for example. The aim was to roll out a few important facts, be they slightly generic or often absolutely marvellous, to show that a prince had done a good job of ruling in God’s name. So, it seems fitting to me that Leah Linh chose to depict whatever she wanted in her exhibition. What I enjoyed most was how her painting captured my attachment to Chillon Castle.

Because I love it, this monument. I lived here for such a long time… Before I became the Count of Savoy, I was Lord of Chillon. It really was home to me. Even after my investiture as the head of the countship, I often returned here, almost right up until my death. And I had some truly comical moments here. In May 1255, I received emissaries from the town of Bern, who sought my protection. They had travelled in disguise so as to escape their enemies, the Kyburgs, a powerful German family.

I would have loved to, but she is the Lady of Chillon now. At least for a while. I certainly do not want to stand in her way. Please do give her my best, won’t you?