I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

Chapter 503: Nathan’s family moments with Khione and Nivea

Nathan rested in a space that was neither earth nor sky, but something purer, whiter, more serene. It was a realm woven from frost and silence, a sanctuary of immaculate light where no sound lingered for long. This was Khione’s domain—her private, ethereal world where time seemed to drift differently, slower, softer, as if eternity itself had been dressed in snow.

Normally, these visits filled him with peace. Here, he could lay down his burdens and simply exist beside his first wife, the goddess who had once bound herself to him, and their daughter, who had been born from that unlikely union. Yet today, the atmosphere carried a faint chill sharper than usual, one not of Khione’s divine winter but of her mood. His goddess-wife was sulking, a quiet storm that lingered unseen but deeply felt.

In his arms, nestled against his chest with childlike ease, lay a little girl who looked no older than four. Despite her tender age, she radiated a presence that could not be mistaken—her growth was accelerated, touched by divine blood. She was a perfect mirror of her mother’s beauty: hair as white as freshly fallen snow, eyes of crystalline blue that seemed carved from glaciers, and skin pale as alabaster. Yet when Nathan looked closely, he saw himself within her too. Behind those ice-blue irises dwelled a sharpness, a calculating coldness that was not Khione’s but his own—the mark of her father, etched in her very gaze.

Her small hands, delicate but determined, clutched at the fabric of his shirt as she tilted her head upward, eyes shimmering with innocence veiled by seriousness.”Father,” Nivea whispered, her voice soft but piercing, “why are you always away?”

Nathan’s lips curved faintly, though there was heaviness behind his smile. He brushed his fingers gently through her snowy hair, stroking it with a tenderness that only she could draw from him.”I am working far away, little one,” he said softly. “In another Empire.”

Her pout deepened, blue eyes narrowing like shards of ice glinting in the sun.”Why work at all? Why can’t you just stay here with us?”

A pang went through him. Ah, how simple children made the world sound. To her, life should only be family, warmth, and togetherness. But Nathan’s life was a web of conflicts, empires, and vengeance—a man’s duty far larger than himself.”It is complicated, Nivea,” he murmured, exhaling slowly. “Rome… is ruled by a cruel man. I need to bring him down. Once I do, Rome will stand beside me. And if Rome stands with me, then many things will change.”

Her small face tilted, curiosity and confusion fighting for dominance.”Change for what, Father? What do you need their help for?”

Nathan paused, his smile faltering for a moment. How could he explain? Should he tell her of Tenebria, of the alliances he sought, of the Light Empire that stood in his path, and of the Divine Knights he intended to bury one by one? Should he confess that his heart craved not only survival but conquest?

No… she was too young, too pure in her own way. To speak of blood and war to this little girl, his daughter, felt crueler than facing any battlefield. He glanced at her again, her wide eyes searching for answers, and decided to frame the truth more gently.

“There is something more important,” he said at last, his voice carrying a warmth he rarely used. “Your little sisters are there. They need us.”

He was speaking about his daughter with Amelia: Sara and his youngest daughter with Aisha: Karen.

Nivea blinked, her lips parting. “My… sisters?”

Nathan chuckled lightly at her surprise. “Yes. Sara, and little Karen. They are trapped, imprisoned where they should not be. And you wouldn’t want your sisters left all alone, would you?”

The revelation struck her like lightning. Her expression shifted, her innocence freezing into something much sharper. Her small hands pressed against his chest, and she lifted her chin with an expression far too cold for a child’s face.”Then let’s save them, Father.”

Nathan’s heart tightened at that look—it was Khione’s frosty grace fused with his own ruthless resolve, condensed into the tiny body of his daughter. For an instant, he saw a glimpse of the woman she would become, and it was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

He laughed softly, a genuine, unguarded sound, and patted her head with affection. Then he drew her close again, pressing her small frame against his chest where she fit perfectly.”Don’t worry, Nivea,” he said firmly, as if declaring an oath to the very fabric of this white realm. “Your father will take care of everything. I will bring them back. That is a promise.”

The little girl closed her eyes and let herself sink against him once more, content in his embrace.

Nathan resumed stroking Nivea’s silken white hair, his fingertips tracing down the delicate strands as though each carried a fragment of her soul. The little girl’s steady breathing calmed him, grounding him in this fleeting peace he so rarely allowed himself.

“I will also let you meet your other little sister and little brother,” he murmured softly, his tone warm, almost dreamlike.

By those words, he meant Kyra—his daughter with Khillea—and Laios, his first and only son, born from Kassandra. A family fragmented across bloodlines and realms, yet still his.

Nivea’s icy-blue eyes brightened, catching the light of the endless white room. “I want to see them now,” she declared without hesitation, her voice laced with a mixture of innocence and quiet command.

Nathan smiled faintly, a bittersweet curl of his lips. Even in her childlike yearning, she carried his decisiveness. “You will, I promise. Soon enough—once I am finished with what must be done here.”

For a moment she was silent, gazing up at him as though searching for cracks in his promise. Then her small lips parted again. “Can I see the outside world then?”

The question struck harder than he wished to admit. Nathan stilled, his hand pausing in her hair before resuming its gentle motion. He wanted nothing more than to say yes. To take her hand and lead her into the mortal world, to let her see sunlight, stars, and fields of green rather than endless white walls. But the truth pressed heavily on him like a chain.

He hated it—hated this prison of necessity. If he allowed Khione or Nivea beyond this sanctuary now, the gods would feel their presence. And if they learned that Khione still lived, hidden under his protection, everything he had fought for would crumble in an instant. He wasn’t yet strong enough to face them all. Not yet.

Perhaps… perhaps he could risk it with Nivea alone, if he cloaked her well enough, hid her light from divine eyes. But Khione—no. She was too dangerous a truth, too great a secret. For now, she had to remain bound to this frozen refuge.

“One day,” Nathan said at last, his voice steady, though inside it bled with frustration. “One day, I will build a kingdom of my own. A place made only for us. And there, you will be my first princess.”

The words glowed within the white expanse, a vision spoken into existence.

Nivea blinked, then a small smile curved her lips—an expression so rare it was almost sacred. She only smiled like this with him or Khione, as though the world outside could never earn it.

“Will Mother be there too?” she asked softly, tilting her head, her sharp gaze betraying a wisdom far beyond her years.

Nathan’s heart tightened again. Clever child—too clever. He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand and nodded. “Of course. Khione will be there. She will be my Empress.”

At those words, his gaze drifted beyond, to the far end of the white chamber where his goddess-wife rested. Khione lay with her back to them, silent, motionless, embodying both distance and presence at once.

“Then I will wait,” Nivea murmured, satisfied, before resting her head once more against his chest. Her breathing slowed, soft and steady, until sleep claimed her fragile body.

Nathan held her a moment longer, stroking her hair with a tenderness reserved only for her, before rising carefully. He carried her weightlessly across the pure expanse to another bed, placing her down with a gentleness that belied his ruthless nature. Tucking her in, he lingered, watching her serene little face, before turning toward the larger bed where Khione lay.

He approached quietly, his shadow falling over her form as she continued to face away from him. Sliding into the bed beside her, Nathan reached out, his hand brushing over her bare shoulder. “Are you still upset?” he asked in a low murmur.

Silence answered him, heavy and cold.

Nathan exhaled, his gaze drifting upward to the ceiling of endless white. A sigh escaped him, not of weariness but of recognition—he knew his goddess-wife too well.

Finally, her voice broke the stillness. Icy, firm. “I told you not to take part in that tournament. I told you not to approach Pandora.”

Her words pierced like frost through skin.

“Pandora is dangerous,” she continued, each syllable sharp, “and she will need to be dealt with eventually. But it didn’t have to be you.”

“Perhaps. But I was confident. And I am still doing well.”

“You don’t understand,” Khione snapped suddenly, her tone sharper than usual. “You are underestimating her. A single misstep and she will kill you. And if you die, Nathan—so do I.”

Her words trembled, not with weakness, but with the weight of a truth he could not dismiss. Bound by the slave seal, her life was tethered to his. If he fell, she would vanish.

He could not deny it. Pandora was lethal. A serpent cloaked in beauty and cunning, one wrong breath near her could end him before he even raised his guard.

Nathan’s gaze hardened, and then, almost abruptly, he whispered, “Then I will remove the Forbidden Seal from you.”

The silence that followed was thunderous.

Khione’s body stiffened before she spun around, her pale blue eyes widening in shock. She stared at him, disbelieving, as though his words had struck the very core of her being.

“I am serious,” Nathan said firmly, his voice deep and unwavering. “You are my woman—my first wife. I will not tie my death to yours. I can’t… I won’t even think about Nivea being left an orphan. Even if I die, you must remain. You must be here to—”

Before he could finish, a soft yet commanding hand pressed against his mouth, silencing him.

Khione leaned over him, her icy-blue eyes locking onto his with the stillness of a frozen lake. Her touch was cool, her expression colder.

“You won’t die,” she said, her tone so absolute that it left no room for argument.

Nathan’s golden eyes searched hers, a storm of resistance and vulnerability swirling within him.

“And,” she continued, her voice dropping into a softer, more intimate cadence, “I do not want the seal removed. It binds me to you in a way nothing else can. It is more than a chain—it is a bond. Deeper than blood, deeper than vows.”

For a long moment, Nathan simply looked at her, the weight of her words sinking into him. Then he reached up, grasped her wrist gently, and pulled her down until she toppled onto him. She landed across his chest, his strong hands slipping around her waist, holding her close, keeping her anchored above him.

His gaze, golden and sharp yet softened only for her, met hers unwaveringly.

“My whole life,” he began quietly, “I was a fool. Blindly walking the path my father carved. Even when you summoned me into this world, I was still following his shadow. That day… the day I forced you into submission…” His voice caught faintly, as though the memory still scraped against his soul. “Even now it unsettles me. I know it was indecent, cruel. And yet—” his hands tightened gently on her waist— “I cannot regret it. Because without that, we would never have become this close.”

Khione’s breath brushed his skin as she leaned closer, their faces so near that only a whisper of air separated them. She held his gaze, the unflinching steel of a goddess melted into something softer, more vulnerable. She could feel his breath warm against her lips, mingling with her own.

“But I have to ask you, Khione,” Nathan said, his voice raw, his golden eyes burning with unspoken need. “Will you forgive me? For that moment. For what I did to you then.”

He cared little for the judgment of others, but Khione’s forgiveness—her absolution—was the one thing he truly craved.

Slowly, her lips curved, and for the first time in what felt like ages, a smile bloomed across her cold, divine beauty. She leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss—soft, deliberate, tender. When she drew back, her lips brushed lightly against his neck, her breath trailing warm against his skin.”I forgive you,” she whispered. Then her voice lowered further, almost inaudible. “And forgive me, too.”

Nathan tilted his head, confusion flickering. “For what?”

A shadow passed through her eyes. “I did try to rid myself of you that day,” she confessed softly. “I didn’t strike to kill, but I wanted you cast out of the Light Empire. Which… for you, back then, would have meant death.”

Nathan stilled, the truth cutting sharper than he expected, though not deeply enough to wound. He exhaled slowly, his lips curving faintly.

“I forgive you,” he said, his voice steady. “But tell me—was I truly so worthless in your eyes?”

Her pale lashes lowered, a flicker of regret stirring within her icy gaze. “I didn’t like your eyes,” she admitted.

At that, Nathan laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Then I’ll have to blame my father for that.”

But Khione’s expression softened. She lifted her gaze again, this time letting her eyes linger deeply on his, golden and radiant in the whiteness of her realm. Her voice dropped into a reverent whisper.

“Now… they are the most beautiful gaze I have ever laid eyes upon.”

Nathan’s heart clenched at her words, and he answered without hesitation, his thumb caressing her cheek.

“And so are you.”

Their lips met again, longer, deeper, until the kiss melted the space between them and their breaths became one. When finally they parted, Khione shifted, resting half her body across his chest, her hand sprawled gently against him as though to claim him.

She nestled close, her voice softer now, almost fragile, as she whispered, “Promise me, Nate… promise me you will be careful.”

He turned his head, brushing his lips against her hair, and answered with quiet conviction.”Definitely.”