Gift of God: Lady Godiva - Chapter 4

“Hm?”

“Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”

“N-no… I’m fine.”

The nanny looked at her young lady with concern. When those lovely eyes filled with sorrow, her own heart grew heavy as well.

“Then… has his lordship been too harsh with you?”

Godiva shook her head, then, after a moment, gave a small nod.

“Miss, could it be…?”

“No, Nurse. It’s not that.”

“If I may be so bold, I could speak to him for you.”

“I said it’s not that. It’s just… I…”

The words hovered at her lips but would not come. Godiva lowered her face into her hair. There was so much she wished to ask her nanny. Yet whatever she said would surely be called fortune, a blessing—so she kept silent.

“Miss, from what I see, his lordship cherishes you greatly…”

“….”

“To be loved like that by a man is no common thing. Not every newlywed husband is like him.”

“….”

“Miss.”

If the body were held, would the heart be soothed as well? Godiva wondered quietly. Did her nanny and Leofric think the same? She opened her violet eyes faintly.

“He is truly a man of deep affection. Why, then, is it so hard for you?”

“….”

“Miss, if you think too deeply on these matters, only your health will suffer.”

Ripple. Water beaded transparently on her pale, supple body as it rose from the bath.

“Nanny, I think I’ll get out now.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Wrapped carefully in the cloth her nanny held out, Godiva hid her damp body within its folds. Her wet hair, curling with moisture, shimmered around her like a living flame. At that moment, sunlight poured generously through the window. In its glow, faint marks scattered across her chest, neck, wrists, and back stood out delicately.

“You won’t go out today, will you?”

The young lady she had raised like a daughter—once a tender bud—had now blossomed into incomparable beauty. Not voluptuous, perhaps, but so singularly lovely that any man might desire her. The nanny hesitated before speaking gently.

“No. I’m going.”

“Miss, his lordship dislikes it… please don’t go.”

“If I can help, am I to simply stand by?”

“Miss, please. Stop speaking of lowering the taxes. Master Thorold disliked it, and so does his lordship. What if you incur his wrath?”

“Even so, I cannot ignore it.”

“Miss!”

“I’ll go alone if I must.”

Godiva quickly slipped into her chemise and bliaut. With the rough urgent movements, her molten-gold hair swept brilliantly around her small face.

“Miss, wait a moment.”

The nanny hurried to arrange her hair. It flowed nearly to her shins, like the evening sun—so magnificent that even the one tending it felt pride. Lord Leofric treasured it dearly and would not have it loosed carelessly before anyone else.

“Just tie it roughly. Once I put on my mantle, no one will see…”

While the nanny fussed, Godiva gathered the long trumpet sleeves of her gown and tied them neatly. Many women let such sleeves trail like banners, but she found them cumbersome and preferred to secure them firmly.

As she turned lightly, her green skirt swayed, and the green silk veil upon her head blended like fresh leaves against it.

“Wait for me—I’ll come with you.”

Godiva stepped forward without hesitation. Her footsteps rang lightly against the stone floor. The nanny followed hurriedly, cloak in hand, her steps heavier in echo.

* * *

The marketplace was lifeless. It should have been bustling and loud, yet the air felt faded. Godiva pulled her hood low.

Every passerby had a shadowed expression; hope seemed nowhere to be found. They lived only because life compelled them to go on—faces worn and hollow. Whatever they harvested went to repay debts and taxes; nothing remained.

It was no wonder their cheeks had grown gaunt. She looked at a child with a rash-speckled face, her eyes aching.

“Miss, coming to such a dangerous place like this…”