I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

The next morning dawned with a faint golden glow spilling through the half-drawn curtains. Nathan stirred awake, his body feeling lighter, his spirit far more refreshed than the days before. The bonding moments he had shared last night—with Khione’s serene yet quietly affectionate presence, and with his cold but undeniably adorable daughter, Nivea—still lingered in his heart like a cherished dream.

It was moments like those that recharged him, that reminded him why he continued pressing forward despite the burdens and the endless schemes surrounding him. Without such moments, the weight of battles, politics, and gods might have tired him long ago.

He didn’t care who the enemy was—be it an Emperor on a gilded throne or gods in their lofty heavens—anyone who dared threaten the happiness of his women or his children would be erased without hesitation.

The memory of Nivea’s shy wish crossed his mind, and despite himself, Nathan smiled faintly. Being a father, he realized, was the greatest feeling in the world. It gave him something deeper than power or conquest ever could. It reinvigorated him in ways nothing else did.

But there was no time to bask too long in sentiment. His focus needed to return to Rome. The curtain was closing on Julius Caesar’s chapter, and Nathan had to be ready when the final act arrived.

He took a slow, almost luxurious bath, letting the warmth of the water soothe his muscles. Afterwards, he dressed with care, slipping into fine clothes, preparing himself not just for appearances but for the subtle game ahead. Today was also supposed to be the second “date” with Pandora—a chance to properly talk, to observe her, and to see how she truly felt about the second round of the gladiator tournament where he had clearly taken the spotlight in it.

But as soon as he opened the door of his chamber, his plans shifted.

A Roman soldier stood stiffly at attention. “The Emperor has called for you.”

Nathan didn’t argue. He simply gave a small nod and followed. The soldier’s sandals clapped against the marble floors as they made their way through Rome’s labyrinth of corridors, until finally, they reached the quarters of Julius Caesar.

The moment Nathan stepped inside, he instantly noted the presence of others. Octavius was there, of course—Caesar’s shadow and protégé—but beside him stood another figure, cloaked, hood drawn low to conceal his features.

For the briefest instant, Nathan’s eyes widened before he mastered himself and straightened his stance. He knew that presence. Even hidden beneath the hood, he could recognize him.

Aaron.

The man kept his face veiled, but there was no mistaking the aura, the subtle familiarity in his bearing.

“Oh, Septimius, you are here.” Caesar’s voice rang out cheerfully from behind his desk, his smile broad, but his sharp eyes glimmered with amusement. “You’ve become the talk of Rome after yesterday’s… spectacle. The entire city is chanting your name, almost drowning out mine. I should be jealous.” His lips curved into a wry grin. “You left so early, though. A shame. The people would have devoured every chance to look at you.”

“I’m not interested in glory,” Nathan replied evenly, his tone calm, detached.

Caesar chuckled knowingly. “Yes, I know. That is precisely why I value you.” He leaned back slightly in his chair, his rings glinting in the light. “Now, allow me to introduce you to a friend of mine.” His hand gestured toward the hooded man.

Nathan gave Aaron the briefest of nods, deliberately disinterested. He could feel Aaron’s eyes studying him from beneath the hood, sharp and probing, but thankfully, there was no spark of recognition. Not yet. The man hadn’t connected him to the shadow who had once overheard their secret conversation.

“Septimius here only cares for money,” Caesar said with a laugh, as though Nathan were a curious little amusement. “I do hope you’re not disappointed, Aaron.”

Aaron’s voice was calm, steady, but carrying the weight of someone always measuring and calculating. “Does he bring interesting information?”

Caesar glanced at Nathan with expectation, his gaze keen, almost testing. Nathan understood instantly—if he claimed ignorance, suspicion would bloom. He was too often absent, and Caesar was no fool; the man would assume Nathan had been plotting something against Crassus or perhaps weaving threads of his own.

Nathan let the silence stretch for a heartbeat before speaking. “I managed to gather some information about Crassus.”

Caesar’s smile thinned, his eyes narrowing with sharp interest. “Oh?” His fingers drummed lightly on the desk. “Then speak. Tell me everything.”

“He seems warier than before,” Nathan said steadily, his voice calm though his words carried weight. “Not just with outsiders—he’s even cautious among his own men. Guarded. As if he’s realized something. I think he knows, at least in part, that you don’t see him as a partner for Rome’s future. That you want the throne to yourself.”

A faint smirk tugged at Caesar’s lips. “It took him long enough to notice,” he said dryly. “And what of Pompey? Any trace of his movements?”

Nathan shook his head. “Nothing concrete. Crassus is hiding something, though. I can’t yet tell what, but he’s waiting for the right moment. Whatever he’s planning, it will only happen once he feels secure enough to act.”

Caesar’s eyes sharpened, a dangerous glimmer flashing in their depths. “I was ready to send my men to slit his throat myself, since you seemed to be taking an awfully long time with this task. But now I see… you’ve been watching him closely all along, haven’t you? Spying?” His voice was smooth but probing, almost accusatory. “You could have told me sooner.”

Nathan allowed a faint, cool smile. “Empty words never earned me coin.”

For a moment there was silence, then Caesar threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing across the chamber. “Ha! You’re really something, Septimius. Truly, I chose wisely when I claimed you before Cleopatra could get her hands on you.” He reached for a pouch on the desk and tossed it casually toward Nathan.

The bag landed with a heavy clink of gold. Nathan caught it, opened it briefly, and a genuine smile flickered across his face at the generous amount within. Caesar was rewarding the very man who quietly plotted against him.

“You seem well dressed today,” Octavius finally spoke, his tone edged with suspicion as his sharp eyes lingered on Nathan. “Is there some special reason?”

“The Goddess Athena summoned me,” Nathan said evenly. “She’s testing me again—this time concerning Pandora.”

At those words, Aaron, who had remained mostly still, suddenly rose from his chair. His hood shifted slightly as he moved closer, his presence sharp, cutting through the air. “Testing you for Pandora?” His tone carried both interest and urgency. His gaze shifted accusingly to Caesar. “Is that true? You should have told me sooner if you had such a valuable card at your side.”

Caesar raised his brow, feigning casualness, though Nathan could see the flicker of interest behind his eyes. “I thought Athena was merely curious about him—nothing more than her usual diversions.” He looked at Nathan, waiting.

“It seems yesterday’s match caught her full attention,” Nathan said. His tone was measured, as if he were revealing something small while concealing much more.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “Did she tell you what she intends? What she wants from you?”

“Not yet. She said she would come to fetch me herself.”

“And did she share anything else—something particular?” Caesar pressed, though his tone suggested he didn’t truly expect an answer. He didn’t believe Athena knew anything of his hidden plots, but curiosity still burned in him.

Nathan shook his head. “No. Her thoughts are preoccupied with Pandora. Nothing more.”

“Good,” Caesar said simply, though relief was faintly audible beneath his calm voice.

Aaron, however, wasn’t finished. He stepped closer to Nathan, his voice sharper now. “You’ve met Pandora, haven’t you?”

Nathan paused, deliberately, letting the silence stretch just long enough to seem thoughtful. “Once,” he said.

Aaron leaned in, his hood shadowing his expression, though the faint curve of a smile could be seen. “And how close were you to her?”

Nathan didn’t flinch. His reply came cool and calm. “As close as you are to me right now.”

Aaron studied him in silence for a moment before smiling faintly and stepping back. “Interesting,” he said, retreating to his seat.

Nathan frowned ever so slightly at Aaron’s reaction but held his tongue.

“If even Athena takes interest in you, then perhaps you are indeed unique,” Caesar mused aloud. His tone was lighter now, but it carried the undercurrent of calculation. “Regardless, should she share anything with you—anything at all—I expect to hear of it immediately.”

Nathan gave a short nod.

He was about to leave when Caesar’s voice called him back. “Ah, one more thing, Septimius. You won’t be participating in the third round of the games. Since you faced the monster of the second round alone, you are granted direct passage to the final—one-on-one duels.”

Nathan inclined his head in acknowledgment, neither surprised nor particularly impressed, and turned to depart.

Just as Nathan stepped out of Caesar’s quarters, the faint rustle of fabric caught his attention. His sharp eyes quickly found the source: Julia, lingering just beyond the doorway, half-hidden in the corridor’s shadows. She froze the moment his gaze fell on her, her cheeks instantly blooming crimson.

“Ha… Septimius…” she stammered, clearly flustered, before stepping back as though she’d been caught in some forbidden act.

Nathan arched a brow, his tone calm but tinged with polite curiosity. “Princess Julia. Is there something I can do for you?”

Her hands twisted nervously in front of her dress, and she shook her head before blurting out, “N-no… actually, I only wanted to congratulate you… for your performance in the second round. I—I just found you… amazing.” Her words trailed off as her face dipped downward, crimson spreading to the tips of her ears.

Nathan’s expression softened ever so slightly. “Thank you,” he replied simply.

Julia hesitated, then held something out with both hands. “A-also… this is my gift.”

It was a bracelet of silk, delicate and carefully woven. Nathan took it, his fingers brushing over the intricate knots and patterns. It was simple yet elegant, clearly handmade, every fold carrying a touch of sincerity.

“You made this for me?” Nathan asked, his gaze lifting back to her. The craftsmanship was far from ordinary—complex patterns interwoven with a tenderness only possible through patience and care.

Julia nodded quickly, her face reddening further. “I did. I wanted to thank you… and congratulate you properly.”

For a moment, Nathan regarded her in silence, truly wondering how much of Caesar’s blood she bore. She seemed so different—so genuine, so vulnerable in her affections—that it was difficult to reconcile her with the cold, calculating Emperor who sat on his throne. Regardless, he could not deny that he cared more than he wished to admit.

With a faint smile, Nathan reached into his spatial storage and withdrew something far more precious: a necklace with a polished blue stone set in fine metal. The gem glimmered faintly with its own inner light, protective energy flowing within it like a hidden blessing.

Julia gasped softly, her eyes widening. “B… beautiful…” she whispered, utterly captivated.

It was no ordinary trinket. Among the treasures Nathan had been permitted to take from Tenebria’s treasury, this one was peculiar—its enchantment woven to guard its wearer from harm.

“This is for you,” Nathan said, offering it.

Her trembling hands accepted the necklace as though it were the most precious thing in the world. With barely contained excitement, she slipped it around her neck immediately, her blush deepening until it nearly matched the shade of her lips.

“T…thank you…” she breathed, her voice soft, almost shy to the point of breaking.

Then, gathering a sudden burst of courage, Julia rose up on her tiptoes, leaned forward, and pressed her lips softly against Nathan’s. The kiss was fleeting, tender, but full of innocence.

She pulled back almost as quickly, her face burning scarlet. A smile—bashful yet radiant—crossed her lips before she turned and hurried away down the corridor, leaving Nathan standing in place, the faint warmth of her kiss still lingering against him.