Chapter 14
“My lord… Madam… I shall take my leave.”
The barber scrambled to his feet, then hurried out as though he feared losing his head.
Rustle.
Godiva looked up toward the upper floor where Leofric stood. He had clearly followed at once, he was not even properly dressed. Seeing the deep furrow in his brow, she felt a twinge of guilt. She offered him a shy smile, pale as moonlight.
“Come here.”
Leofric extended his hand. Godiva climbed the long staircase toward him.
“You should be resting.”
She placed her hand gently in his. It was only a small touch, yet her heart raced. Ever since that night when she had realized her feelings, she had grown even more bashful. She did not say the words aloud, but love shone brilliantly in her gaze and her smile.
“That man dares to fawn over my wife.”
Leofric scooped her up easily. She was so much smaller than he was that he could enclose her in one arm without effort.
“And you expect me to lie still like a sick old man?”
“Leofric, it wasn’t like that. He was only thanking me….”
Why was it? These past few days, Godiva seemed even more beautiful—like a flower bud drenched in sunlight and brimming with dew. Leofric looked at his young wife with quiet admiration.
“Tell me, Godiva.”
“…?”
She lifted her violet eyes in question. They were so open, so sincere, that something tightened within him. Perhaps it was the scar across his chest or perhaps something else. A low sound escaped him without his noticing.
“Leofric, does it hurt?”
Concern shadowed her eyes.
“Damn it…”
The word slipped out as a rough curse.
“What is it? Is your chest hurting?”
“Yes….”
At once she struggled in his arms, worried that lifting her would strain him further. She pushed lightly at his shoulder.
“Stay still.”
“You’re not fully well—put me down.”
“You weigh no more than a handful.”
“Still…”
He swallowed the question he had meant to ask. He wanted to know what secret made her glow so radiantly. But he feared that if he startled her, that lovely light might fade.
“Godiva, shall we go out? It’s been a while.”
He remembered how she had trembled that night. More than the pain of his torn flesh, he had been conscious of his fragile wife.
“Where to?”
“Anywhere.”
Godiva loved moments like this. Speaking quietly with her husband meant more to her than anything. Her lips curved softly; her bright eyes widened with gentle delight.
“Thank you.”
The brutal scar still marked Leofric’s chest. Godiva let her gaze drift from the reddened seam of flesh to his eyes.
“….”
He did not ask. The wound had nearly cost him his life, yet it had given him something in return. The wife who had once seemed near yet distant now felt closer.
“Um… are we… not going?”
Under his steady gaze, her heart quickened. Before him, Godiva sometimes found herself stumbling over her words. Even now, her cheeks flushed like apples, and she mumbled under her breath.
“You’re muttering again.”
“I—I’m not….”
“You are.”
“No, I—mm—”
The words he could not quite hear, Leofric claimed with a kiss. Not a single syllable escaped him.
Her golden hair spilled over his arm, brushing softly against the floor.
* * *
The world beside them was beautiful, yet beyond the castle walls sorrow lingered. Even in the rose-filled garden, Godiva saw the faces of thin, hungry children. She remembered her mother, who loved red roses and always said, If I am happy, then everyone is happy, and lived her life by those words. But Godiva did not believe it was so simple.
“You are clearly here beside me.”
Startled by his sudden words, she lifted her head. Leofric was watching her at eye level.
“Then why do you feel so far away?”
“What?”
Her lips parted in surprise, a glimpse of rose-colored tongue showing. The expression made her look young—almost disarmingly so.
“Godiva, your eyes are honest.”
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