My Family in the Novel?

"No, mom, dad, stop!"

Isabella's eyes shot open as her own anguished screams reverberated in her ears. The remnants of a haunting nightmare clung to her consciousness, refusing to release their grip even as she found herself back in the waking world.

Gasping for breath, she frantically scanned her surroundings.

A moment of disorientation swept over her as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings.

Releasing her Divinity she instinctively scanned everything.

The room she found herself in was starkly different from the one she knew.

From the intricately adorned ceilings to the unfamiliar walls, everything seemed alien.

Even the bed beneath her felt foreign.

In the Holy Nation, where most rooms near the grand cathedral bore a striking resemblance, Isabella's keen eyes discerned the subtle distinctions that confirmed this was not her accustomed space.

The distinct shapes she saw was too different, for this place to be her room.

The absence of her cherished doll, a constant companion in her nightly slumber, further emphasized the disparity.

As she became more aware, Isabella noticed the thin blanket draped over her form – the only modesty preserving her nakedness.

A sense of vulnerability crept over her, and she couldn't help but wonder why she was undressed.

"Why am I naked?" she questioned aloud, her voice betraying a mixture of confusion and concern. The solitude of the room offered a brief respite, but the disconcerting realization lingered.

A sudden throbbing headache seized her, causing Isabella to wince and clutch her head. The memories of the previous night flooded back, unraveling the events that had transpired.

"That's right, I took the hero back to the temple and tried to charm him… I failed, and the gods were angered, then he suddenly disappeared," she muttered to herself.

The recollection, however, was incomplete, and the details surrounding her arrival in the unfamiliar room remained elusive.

Beside the bed, a small wooden chair held her neatly cleaned clothes, and her cane was meticulously placed nearby.

Despite the clarity of her surroundings, Isabella's attempt to rise was met with a sharp pang, causing her to recoil.

Pain radiated from her back to her lower abdomen, and her aching body betrayed the aftermath of an ordeal she couldn't fully remember.

Determined to understand the extent of her discomfort, Isabella tentatively opened the blanket, revealing a distressing sight.

Bloodstains marred the fabric beneath her lower half, sending a chill down her spine.

Panic set in as her thoughts raced, and a sinking realization gripped her.

Although she can't see, she knew what the feeling and smell of blood was like.

"No… it can't be, right?" she whispered, her hands trembling as she cautiously checked her own purity.

…..

"So, what were you hiding in your room?" Elena's playful yet persistent question hung in the air, her gaze fixed on me.

"Hmm? Nothing..." I responded casually, attempting to brush off the matter as inconsequential.

Elena, however, wasn't easily swayed. "Really now~..." Her tone suggested a mix of amusement and suspicion, indicating that she wasn't about to drop the subject anytime soon.

Throughout this entire morning, Elena had been relentless in her inquiries about why I had kept her out of my room.

It was a question that danced on the edge of teasing and genuine curiosity, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of her scrutiny.

The truth was, Isabella's presence in my room had complicated things. Allowing Elena in would undoubtedly lead to misunderstandings that I preferred to avoid.

While Elena had become more open-minded about my relationships with other girls and even took on the role of a matchmaker, her trust was reserved for those she genuinely believed had a strong connection with me.

She played her matchmaking games with a purpose, usually endorsing those she considered potential future wives rather than mere passing flings.

'And right now she's currently and openly trying to get me and Louise together'

As the notion of a harem became increasingly inevitable, I couldn't ignore the reality that Elena, as the future first wife, held a significant role in determining the dynamics of my romantic entanglements.

She would have the authority to decide the number of wives and, crucially, who would be allowed into that select circle.

Despite having the power to voice my desires, I chose to respect Elena's decision-making role and the authority she held in shaping our shared future.

The knowledge that Isabella and Elena had a history, coupled with the fact that their relationship was far from friendly, added a layer of complexity. This became even more apparent, considering the prank I had played on Isabella the previous night involving red paint.

"What did you do with that red paint?" Elena pressed, recalling the morning's discussion.

I hesitated. How could I possibly explain that the red paint was used in a prank involving a naked Isabella in my bed?

"Well, I just used it for personal reasons…" I deflected, fully aware that Elena was skeptical.

"Is that so~…"

To my relief, she chose to ignore it, shifting the conversation to a safer topic.

Changing gears, Elena asked, "So, how did your date with Louise go?" Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, a stark contrast to her reactions concerning my relationship with Aria.

If only Elena showed the same level of interest and curiosity in my relationship with Aria, perhaps certain headaches could have been avoided.

I had learned from Ana that Elena had nearly spent the entire night in my room. Fortunately, her escape was thwarted by vigilant templars and personal maids, preventing any potential complications.

I couldn't help but feel relieved that she hadn't witnessed my time with Isabella the previous night. The thought of the trouble that could have ensued lingered in my mind.

As Elena probed about my date with Louise, I responded casually, "Well, it went well, I guess." However, her reaction caught me off guard. She pouted and shot me a look as if I had said something utterly foolish.

"It went well, I guess? You didn't make things awkward for Louise, right?" Her tone carried a hint of anger, making me wonder if she was somehow invested in Louise's happiness – perhaps more than just a friend's concern.

"No, I didn't. Even though the date wasn't planned, I'm pretty confident I took her to most of the stuff she wanted to see, as well as things she liked," I explained, trying to reassure Elena that everything had gone smoothly.

Her scrutinizing gaze persisted, one brow raised in skepticism. It seemed she still harbored doubts about my actions. Unfazed, she pressed further, asking a more direct question, "So, how far did you two go?"

"We kissed," I admitted, and at that moment, an unexpected silence enveloped us. Elena's reaction was a mixture of surprise and contemplation, leaving an air of uncertainty.

'Is she mad…? Or just surprised?'

Elena's eyes seemed to betray a fleeting discomfort, a subtle squirming before she masked it with an emotionless facade. Despite her outwardly nonchalant and supportive demeanor, it was evident that hearing about my kiss with another girl had stirred some emotion within her. Her attempts to maintain composure couldn't completely conceal the underlying unease and perhaps a hint of hurt.

Amused by her transparent response, I couldn't help but chuckle softly. With a gentle pat on her head, I lowered my head and planted a reassuring kiss on her cheek. "Don't worry; no one will take your position in my heart," I said with a warm smile, hoping to ease any lingering concerns.

Her cheeks blushed at the unexpected gesture, and she stammered, "I-I know that. I wasn't worried or anything to begin with." She avoided making direct eye contact, attempting to deflect any notion of vulnerability.

"How cute" I mumbled playfully, savoring the subtle shifts in her demeanor.

Insisting further, she hastily added, "I really wasn't worried," trying to empathize her lack of concern.

Her words, however, felt more like an excuse than a genuine dismissal of her emotional response.

"Yes, yes, my dear fiancé wasn't worried about me having a good time with another woman—" I began my teasing words, but before I could finish, Elena swiftly punched me in the side.

Despite her generally weaker physical ability, her punch, imbued with divine energy, felt like it could shatter my ribs.

"Why would you say it like that? Louise isn't just any woman!" she reprimanded me, her tone now a mix of frustration and admonishment. It seemed her previous sadness had transformed into genuine irritation.

'Women/…'

I sighed internally, trying to fathom the intricate workings of their emotions.

'Will there ever be a time where I can tell what they really want?'

The journey to the designated location continued, and before long, we arrived at the expansive castle-like churches of the holy nation.

An open space revealed itself, adorned with a gigantic white stage and an array of golems placed on each side, ranging from colossal to human-sized.

These white golems stood in formation, creating a mesmerizing display.

At the center of the stage, the attention-grabbing figures revealed themselves. A middle-aged man, distinguished by his dark blue hair and four scars etched across his face, stood with an imposing presence that radiated authority and experience.

His demeanor suggested a wealth of knowledge and the scars hinted at battles faced and conquered.

Beside him stood a stunning woman with equally dark blue hair, her beauty accentuated by a scar just underneath her chin.

Both of them fixed their gazes on me, a mix of determination and assessment reflected in their eyes.

As I observed them, the unmistakable vibes of shared heritage and familial connection were palpable.

The subtle nuances in their appearances, coupled with the synchronized energy that enveloped them, indicated a strong possibility that they were twins or, at the very least, closely bonded siblings.

"Good day, Sir hero, dear saintess...!" they greeted in unison, bowing respectfully as they introduced themselves.

"My name is Libert Evans," the middle-aged man announced.

"And my name is Fredrika Evans," the stunning woman beside him added.

"Starting today, we will be both your combat teachers," they declared together, their voices synchronized almost like a perfectly coordinated duo.

The harmony in their delivery hinted at an exceptional level of synchronization between the two.

Combat teachers? The thought crossed my mind.

Did I even really need any? I pondered the necessity, wondering if my abilities were already sufficient.

Nevertheless, Elena seemed quite accepting of the arrangement.

"Please take care of us, Brother Libert, Sister Fredrika" Elena chimed in casually, her hands folded together in a prayer-like gesture.

The surprise on Elena's face, though fleeting, suggested that this arrangement might have been orchestrated by the pope without prior notification.

However, if Elena was on board with the idea, then I might as well embrace the opportunity.

The prospect of learning from experienced individuals held its own appeal.

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