I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me - Chapter 596: Time with Fulvia

Chapter 596: Time with Fulvia

Four days had passed since Nathan had held that private discussion with Crassus and the others, laying out his demands with calm certainty and an unmistakable edge beneath his words.

In that short span of time, very little of note had actually happened. Compared to the turbulent days under Caesar’s rule, the atmosphere in Rome now felt strangely quiet—almost dull. The city still breathed, still moved, but it no longer carried the same oppressive tension it once had. Stability had returned, and with it came an unfamiliar stillness.

Nathan, for his part, found himself with an unusual amount of free time.

That did not mean he was idle.

If anything, he used those days with careful intentions. Ensuring Caesar’s complete downfall—political, social, and personal—had required a bit of planning and patience. He made certain every thread was pulled cleanly, every loose end tied off. In the end, it unfolded smoothly, almost disappointingly so. Caesar’s life unraveled exactly as Nathan intended, leaving no room for recovery.

With that matter settled and Rome no longer in danger, Nathan turned his attention inward.

He devoted much of his time to meditation, focusing on gaining better control over the curses sealed within him—those born from Pandora’s Box. He was under no illusion that four days of effort would bring any dramatic improvement. The power was vast, ancient, and deeply ingrained in his body. Still, even a single hour of focused control was better than none at all.

Progress was slow, nearly imperceptible, yet not nonexistent.

There were moments during meditation when he sank so deeply into concentration that the passage of time vanished entirely. Hours slipped by unnoticed, his awareness narrowed to the pain, the weight, and the effort of suppressing and stabilizing the curses. Though the improvement was subtle, Nathan could feel it—a slight easing of the constant pressure, a marginal reduction in the pain gnawing at his body. It was small, but it was real, and that alone made the effort worthwhile.

Since Rome was secure, Nathan saw no reason to waste his days in idle luxury. Gaining even a fraction more control over the curses mattered far more to him.

That said, he did not deny himself rest.

Much of his downtime was spent with Servilia and Fulvia.

As for Julia, Nathan made a conscious decision to give her space. With her adoption by Crassus in progress, she already had enough on her shoulders. Rather than complicate things with his presence, he allowed her to focus on her own path without interference.

Elin and Freja, meanwhile, immersed themselves in the city. This time, there were no watchful eyes or subtle restraints imposed by Caesar’s men. They along their classmates wandered Rome freely, exploring its streets, markets, and landmarks with genuine peace of mind. For the first time, the city felt open to them.

Both women, however, were still noticeably shy around Nathan.

After the night they had both, without restraint or pretense, offered themselves to him, their usual composure had crumbled. Whenever Nathan happened to cross paths with them, they would avert their gazes, cheeks flushed, awkwardly muttering excuses about duties or errands before hastily retreating. They stuck close to one another, united in shared embarrassment.

Nathan found it more amusing than anything else.

Despite their differences in personality, they reacted to intimacy in exactly the same way—bashful, flustered, and utterly incapable of hiding it.

Ultimately, most of Nathan’s restful moments were spent with Servilia and Fulvia—his women, officially acknowledged and openly at his side.

Servilia fascinated him not merely because of her beauty, but because of her sharp mind. Her intelligence, composure, and ability to see several moves ahead made her company especially rewarding. Conversations with her were never dull, and Nathan valued that deeply.

Fulvia, in contrast, was vibrant and teasing, full of energy and mischief. Where Servilia was measured and calculating, Fulvia was playful and bold, always finding ways to provoke reactions and lighten the mood. It was a contrast Nathan appreciated more than he expected.

Like today, for instance.

He had spent the night with Fulvia, and when morning came, he woke feeling unusually tired—his body heavy, his limbs slow to respond.

As his eyes slowly opened, the first thing he saw was Fulvia hovering above him, smiling down with unmistakable amusement. Her expression was warm, playful, and entirely too pleased with herself, as if she knew exactly why he felt so exhausted.

Nathan shifted slightly and reached a hand up toward his face as he spoke.

“How long have you been awake?” he asked, his voice still rough with sleep.

The answer almost slipped from his mind as pain struck first.

The curses reacted the moment consciousness returned to him, sending a sharp, sickening wave through his body. It was the same every morning—an overwhelming reminder of what he carried inside himself. Nathan clenched his jaw, forcing the reaction down through sheer will. The idea that this would become routine, that he would have to grow accustomed to such mind-bending pain every time he woke, was unpleasant to say the least.

But did he really have a choice?

“For an hour,” Fulvia replied cheerfully, smiling as she lightly swung her legs back and forth while watching him.

She was looking at his true face—no disguise, no concealment. Up close, in the quiet of the morning light, she found herself endlessly fascinated by his features. There was something about him that drew her in, something dangerous yet captivating.

“You’ve been staring at me for an entire hour?” Nathan asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at her.

“Well, it’s not like I had anything better to do,” she laughed lightly.

Before he could reply, she leaned down, closing the distance between them and pressing her lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss. Nathan responded without hesitation, kissing her back just as gently, one hand lifting to run through her hair in a familiar, reassuring motion.

After a moment, he pulled back slightly.

“Is your father downstairs,” he asked calmly, “or has he already left?”

“My father left last night,” Fulvia answered with a grin, clearly amused. “Right around the time he realized my moans were getting far too loud for his comfort.”

Nathan couldn’t help but smirk.

He hadn’t bothered with shame when he came here. He had arrived late, exchanged only a brief, polite greeting with Fulvius, and then disappeared into Fulvia’s quarters without hesitation. Once the sounds of the night became impossible to ignore, Fulvius had done the only sensible thing—he left the residence entirely and spent the night at the Senate Castle.

After a short silence, Nathan spoke again.

“Today is an important day.”

Fulvia’s expression brightened immediately.

“Indeed,” she said eagerly. “I’m honestly excited. The Queen of Amun Ra herself… I’ve heard so many incredible things about her.”

“She is

incredible,” Nathan replied quietly.

His tone carried a depth that didn’t go unnoticed.

Cleopatra was unlike any woman he had ever met—surpassing even Servilia in her own way. She was intelligent, alluring, breathtakingly beautiful, and dangerously sharp. But more than that, she was ruthless. Calculating. Unforgiving. She crushed her enemies without hesitation.

Nathan admired that.

She mirrored something within himself, and that made her presence impossible to forget.

Fulvia caught the subtle shift in his expression—the faint trace of anticipation, of longing.

“I see,” she said teasingly. “Now I’m jealous.”

Nathan chuckled softly and leaned forward, kissing her lips once more.

“If you want to meet her,” he said, “you should start getting ready.”

“Oh, I absolutely do,” Fulvia giggled.

She rose from the bed, gathering the sheet around her body as she walked away, her movements light and carefree. Draped in the fabric, she left the room, already calling out to the servants to prepare a bath—one meant for both of them.

Left alone, Nathan remained lying there for a moment longer, staring up at the ceiling.

The quiet pressed in around him.

Today marked the beginning of the end of his time in Rome.

Soon, he would speak his final words here—before leaving the Roman Empire behind.

Before any of that, however, there was still one crucial matter Nathan had to settle.

Rome and Amun Ra needed to reach a formal agreement—an alliance solid enough to endure even after his departure. Without that assurance, leaving now would be careless.

With that in mind, Nathan deliberately waited for half an hour.

He could have joined Fulvia in the bath without hesitation, but he knew himself well enough to understand how that would end. If he stepped into the water with her, it would inevitably lead to more than bathing, and today simply wasn’t the day for indulgence. Discipline mattered—especially on a day like this.

Only after Fulvia had finished her own preparations did Nathan make his way to the Roman baths.

The heat relaxed his muscles, easing some of the lingering tension left behind by the curses, if only slightly. When he was done, he dressed in fresh clothes, methodical and composed, and then carefully put his disguise back in place—becoming Septimius once more.

As he stepped out, voices drifted in from the atrium of the Fulvii estate.

“I have no interest in you, Lucius,” Fulvia said sharply. “Now leave. I still need to prepare.”

Nathan immediately recognized the male voice that responded.

The man was familiar—someone he had seen at several feasts during his first days in Rome, back when Caesar still ruled. It had been during one of those gatherings that Nathan had first met Fulvia.

Lucius Antonius.

The younger brother of Marcus Antonius.

“Come on,” Lucius insisted, his tone edging toward arrogance. “Now that I’m the sole heir, I can give you anything you want. Influence, protection, power—”

Nathan’s steps slowed as Lucius reached out and grabbed Fulvia’s arm.

“Let go,” she said coldly, fixing him with a sharp, warning glare.

“Why are you being so—”

“You heard her,” Nathan’s voice cut in smoothly as he approached. “Or are you hard of hearing?”

Lucius turned, and the moment he saw Nathan, his grip loosened instantly. His hand dropped away from Fulvia’s arm as his face went pale.

“S–Septimius…” he stammered.

Nathan’s gaze was calm, but there was nothing warm in it.

“Your brother died recently,” Nathan said evenly, stepping closer. “Mysterious circumstances. You wouldn’t want to end up the same way—guts decorating the walls of Rome, would you?”

Lucius flinched.

He had already harbored suspicions about Marcus’s death, blaming Caesar in private. But hearing those words now, spoken so casually, forced him to reconsider everything.

It wasn’t Caesar.

It was him.

His face immediately turned deathly pale.

“I…I only wanted to propose a proper alliance between our houses,” Lucius said hurriedly, sweat forming on his brow. “For the future of Rome.”

“Forget it,” Nathan replied without hesitation. “Fulvia is my woman.”

As if to make the point unmistakably clear, he reached out, grasped Fulvia’s arm, and pulled her gently but firmly against his chest.

She smelled intoxicating—perfumed oils, freshly washed skin, warmth. Her stola was a soft, elegant green that suited her perfectly, accentuating her figure in a way that made it difficult not to linger.

If today weren’t so important, Nathan knew exactly what he would have done with her while she was wearing that dress.

Fulvia blushed faintly, glancing back at him, clearly affected by the possessive gesture.

Lucius stood frozen for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words that refused to come. Then, without another sound, he turned and fled the estate in disgrace.

Nathan released Fulvia only to gently stroke her cheek.

“I’m heading ahead,” he said quietly. “Take your time.”

“I will,” Fulvia replied with a smile, her earlier irritation already gone.