Prohibited Bond

Sarabi arrived at the hut with her heart pounding, concern for her father's health burning in her chest. As she entered, her eyes anxiously scanned the place and did not find him. She scanned the surroundings and saw, in the distance, a man in the scorching sun, sitting on some awkwardly embossed stones, trapped in a blood-stained stocks. Sarabi ran with all her might and, as she approached, recognized her father. A bitter, heart-rending cry burst from her throat.

The screams of other slaves echoed in the distance, a constant reminder of the brutality and oppression that surrounded them. Kwame had several visible, fresh wounds. Deep cuts furrowed his arms, some still bleeding, while others were already beginning to scab over. Dark, painful bruises stretched across his torso, mute witnesses to the blows he had received. His breathing was heavy and choppy; each inhalation seemed like a fight. The stocks, a brutal instrument of punishment, inflicted indescribable pain.

— Father! — exclaimed Sarabi, kneeling beside him. — What happened to you?

Kwame tried to smile, but suffering was reflected in his eyes. His hands trembled slightly as he remained motionless.

— Don't worry, daughter. It's just a misunderstanding, things happen. They'll soon get me out of here — she said, trying to play down her suffering.

Sarabi was not fooled. With trembling hands, she began to clean her father's wounds with the medicinal herbs she had gathered. She applied an ointment made from crushed leaves and roots, mixing them with water to form a thick paste. The scent of the herbs filled the air, creating a contrast with the metallic smell of blood.

— This will help you, Father — said Sarabi, her voice soft but firm. — But I need to know what really happened.

Kwame avoided her gaze, but Sarabi insisted, her eyes full of determination.

— Father, please. I need to know the truth.

Finally, Kwame sighed and spoke in a low, resigned voice.

— It was James who beat me and punished me in this brutal way. I will never allow you to be with that despicable and cruel man.

Sarabi felt a mixture of anger and despair.

She could not allow James to continue hurting her father. With determination, she got up and walked out of the hut, heading towards where she knew she would find James.

The midday sun was shining brightly, creating a contrast to the darkness in her heart. The scorching heat caused sweat to pearl his brow as he strode forward with steady steps. The cries of other slaves echoed in the distance, a constant reminder of the brutality and oppression that surrounded them.

James was sitting on a bench, enjoying a drink, when Sarabi approached. The shade of a nearby tree barely managed to mitigate the heat. At the sight of her, he smiled disdainfully, his eyes full of mischief. The glare of the sun reflected off her face, accentuating the cruelty of her expression.

Sarabi felt the rage growing inside her, fueled by injustice and pain. Every step she took towards James was a challenge to the oppression she had endured for so long. As she reached in front of him, her voice trembled with restrained fury.

— What do you want, Sarabi? — she asked mockingly, taking a sip of her drink.

— I want you to leave my father alone — Sarabi said in a firm voice, trying to contain her fury. — You have no right to hurt him.

James stood up slowly, approaching Sarabi with a sinister smile. His shadow covered her completely, like a tangible threat.

— Your father brought this on himself. And if you don't do as I say, I'll keep hurting him — James said menacingly. — So you'd better behave, Sarabi. Or things will only get worse for him.

Sarabi felt a knot in her stomach, but she didn't let the fear get the better of her. Her heart was pounding, and rage and helplessness mingled inside her. Her eyes flamed with pent-up fury, glowing like burning embers. His jaws were tense and the muscles in his neck were marked with the pressure of his anger. His hands, clenched into fists, trembled slightly with adrenaline.

— I will not allow you to continue hurting my family — she said boldly, her voice firm and determined, despite the tears that threatened to well up.— I will find a way to stop you. Her gaze remained fixed on James, not averting her eyes for a second, showing the steely determination that burned within her.

James laughed, but there was a glint of fury in his eyes. He leaned toward Sarabi, whispering in an icy voice.

— Good luck with that, Sarabi. But remember, I'll always be watching.

Sarabi turned and walked away, feeling James's gaze linger on her back like an unbearable weight. Her footsteps led her back to the hut, but instead of going inside, she headed for the small hut where she knew she would find Nina.

Nina, busy with her chores, looked up when she saw Sarabi approaching with her face drenched in tears.

— Sarabi, what happened? — she asked worriedly, stopping what she was doing and approaching her friend.

Sarabi collapsed in Nina's arms, sobbing.

— It's James... he hit my father... because he wants... he wants me to be with him — she said between sobs.— I don't know what to do, Nina. I'm scared.

Nina hugged Sarabi tightly, giving her all the comfort she could.

— Calm down, Sarabi. We'll be in this together. We won't let James hurt you — she said with determination. We will find a solution, I promise.

Sarabi, still trembling, felt a small spark of hope as she listened to her friend's words. She knew the road would be difficult, but with Nina's help, perhaps she could face the challenges ahead.

The morning was at its peak when Philip entered the hut looking for Sarabi. His expression was serious, but there was an air of urgency in his presence.

— Sarabi, Martha needs you to accompany her to the city — said Philip. You must go and introduce yourself immediately.

Sarabi, still worried about her father, nodded and hurried to the main house. When she arrived, she found Marta waiting in the foyer, looking her usual authoritative self.

— Sarabi, take off those rags and put on the new clothes I left in your room. Today you will accompany me to the Fernandez's house — ordered Marta, her tone brooking no objections.

Sarabi nodded and went to the indicated room. On the bed she found a simple but clean dress, made of white cotton fabric. It was modest but much more decent than the shabby clothes she usually wore. She put it on carefully, adjusting the fabric around her waist and making sure it fit properly.

Martha, on the other hand, was dressed with dazzling elegance. She wore a dark blue silk dress with fine lace adorning the edge of the sleeves and hem. Her hair was tied back in an elaborate bun, and she wore a pearl necklace that perfectly complemented her attire.

— Come on, the carriage is waiting for us — said Marta, heading for the door.

The carriage waiting for them outside was a work of art in itself. Pulled by two imposing black horses, the vehicle was adorned with golden details and had red velvet seats. The wheels were large and sturdy, capable of withstanding travel on the city roads.

Sarabi climbed into the carriage behind Martha, feeling small and out of place in the midst of such opulence. The carriage began to move, and soon they left the hacienda behind, entering the bustle of the town.

As they moved on, Sarabi's eyes filled with awe as she took in the colonial town of Santiago. The streets were cobblestone and lined with brightly colored houses with wrought iron balconies. The balconies were adorned with cascading flowers, creating a spectacle of vibrant colors. Colonial buildings had facades with arches and columns that reflected the Spanish architectural influence.

The plazas were full of life, with street vendors offering their wares: fresh fruits, handicrafts and colorful clothing. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked bread filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and conversation. Children played barefoot in the streets, while women carried market baskets filled with provisions.

As they approached the bay, the landscape was transformed. Crystal clear water glistened in the sun, and sailboats bobbed gently in the harbor. Fishermen were unloading their catch of the day, and seagulls circled overhead, waiting for an opportunity to steal a bite.

Finally, they arrived at the Fernandez house, a large and beautiful mansion. The facade was decorated with white columns and glass windows, and a lush garden surrounded the property. A slave quickly came out to help them out of the carriage, bowing his head in respect.

— Welcome — said the slave, leading them toward the main entrance.

The interior of the mansion was even more impressive, with marble floors, gilded chandeliers and carved wooden furniture. Martha advanced confidently, while Sarabi followed her with her head down, observing everything around her with awe and caution.

At the entrance to the house, Doña Leonor, Elizabeth's mother, greeted them with a forced smile. She was a vain and ostentatious woman, with a robust figure and a coarse countenance. She wore a purple silk dress that fitted uncomfortably to her body, adorned with jewels that reflected her status and wealth.

— Marta, my dear! What a pleasure to see you — said Leonor, extending her arms in an exaggerated welcome.

— The pleasure is mine, Leonor — replied Marta, returning the gesture with a polite smile.

As they walked through the majestic lobby, their heels echoed on the marble floor. Sarabi followed Hiromi silently, keeping her head down, mindful of her position.

— I hope the journey was comfortable — Leonor continued, pausing to look at Marta.

— Yes, it was a pleasant ride — Marta replied. Santiago is always so vibrant.

They sat down on ornate sofas, and a servant appeared with a tray of tea and cakes. As they served, the conversation drifted to their children.

— Elizabeth is so excited about this possible union between our families — said Eleanor, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. I think she and William will make a wonderful couple.

— Yes, they are both talented and well-mannered young men — Martha nodded, though her mind was on other matters.

Leonor tilted her head, as if appraising Marta, and then asked with apparent curiosity:

— Tell me, Marta, is William anything like his brother Rodrigo?

The question took Marta by surprise. Rodrigo, William's younger brother, was famous for being a womanizer and gambler, reasons why his parents had decided to let him live in Europe to avoid more scandals. With an athletic build and a charismatic countenance, Rodrigo had the gift to charm anyone, but his reckless behavior and passion for gambling had led him down a troubled path.

— Rodrigo is in Europe and is a successful lawyer — Marta answered nervously, trying to avoid the subject. He is nothing like our family. — William is very different, he is a young man of principles and firm character.

Marta took the opportunity to highlight her eldest son's virtues.

— William has always been a model of rectitude and responsibility. From a very young age he proved to be brilliant in his studies and has always had an innate sense of justice and fairness. His time in Europe has further enriched him, acquiring knowledge of business and philosophy. He is a dedicated and honorable young man, highly respected by all who know him.

Leonor seemed to relax slightly at this response.

— I am glad to hear that he is — Leonor said, her tone still somewhat guarded. — On the other hand, Elizabeth has been raised with the best values and will make an exemplary wife for William. She is a charming young woman, with great talent for music and the arts. She has always been well liked in our community for her generosity and cheerful spirit.

It was then that Leonor became aware of Sarabi's presence in the room. Her expression became cold and contemptuous.

— You, go to the courtyard. You have no business here — said Leonor, dismissing Sarabi with a wave of her hand.

Sarabi, sensing the disdain in every word, bowed her head and quickly left, leaving Marta and Leonor to continue their conversation.

Leonor took the opportunity to change the subject.

— What are your husband and son doing right now? — asked Leonor.

— Thomas is supervising the work on the estate and William is busy with his studies and helping his father — Marta replied. — I am sure they will both be delighted to attend a formal dinner to celebrate the future union between our families.

— Excellent idea — said Leonor, her eyes sparkling with excitement. — We'll organize a formal dinner next week. It will be the perfect occasion for our children to get to know each other better.

After planning the dinner, the conversation drifted to village gossip. Laughter and whispered comments filled the air, showing a lighter side of the ostentatious hostess.

Meanwhile, in the courtyard, Sarabi sat alone, watching the flowers and trying to distract herself from the worries that consumed her. Elizabeth saw her from a window and decided to approach.

— Hey you, I think I've seen you before — said Elizabeth in a slightly condescending tone.

Sarabi looked up, surprised by Elizabeth's presence.

— Yes, Miss Elizabeth. I work at Mr. Thomas' estate — Sarabi replied, trying to show respect.

Elizabeth gave a perfunctory smile.

When William and I are married, you will be my lady-in-waiting. Be sure to behave properly," said Elizabeth, before turning on her heel and leaving.

Sarabi stood in the courtyard, processing Elizabeth's words. She knew her future was full of uncertainties and challenges, but she also knew she had to stay strong for the sake of her father and herself.

Marta said goodbye to Leonor, who escorted her to the front door.

— It has been a pleasure, Marta. Until the next dinner — said Leonor, smiling with an air of superiority.

— Likewise, Leonor. See you soon — replied Marta, with a nod.

Sarabi followed them silently as they made their way to the carriage. Once they got in, the elegant vehicle began its journey back to the ranch. The road was shrouded in an atmosphere of calm, contrasting with Sarabi's inner turbulence and the thoughts flooding Martha's mind.

When they arrived at the ranch, William was waiting for them. He helped his mother down first, flashing her a polite smile.

— Mother, I hope the trip was pleasant — said William, extending his hand.

— Yes, it was very productive. We'll talk more over dinner — replied Martha.

When William helped Sarabi down, their eyes met. It was a moment of deep connection, charged with unexpressed emotions. William took the opportunity to whisper discreetly to her:

— Remember our meeting tomorrow.

Sarabi nodded slightly, hiding her emotions behind a facade of calm.

The family gathered in the dining room, where an opulent dinner awaited them. The atmosphere, however, was charged with tension.

— William, today we spoke with Doña Leonor about the future engagement dinner with Elizabeth — Martha began, trying to sound enthusiastic. — It will be a wonderful occasion to bring our families together.

William, feeling the weight of family expectations, stirred in his seat.

— Mother, Father, I think we should reconsider this. I am not in love with Elizabeth — said William, trying to remain calm.— There is something I must say...

Thomas, his countenance stern, struck the table with his palm, interrupting William.

— Enough! This engagement is the best thing for our family, and it will be carried out, whether you like it or not — said Thomas, with unwavering authority. — I want no more arguments about it.

William, frustrated and enraged, rose from the table abruptly.

— I can't go through with this — he said, his voice trembling with restrained emotion. — Good night.

He turned and headed for his room, leaving his parents silent, puzzled by his reaction. The tension in the dining room was palpable, and Martha glanced at Thomas, worried about the growing distance between them and their son.

William reached his room and closed the door tightly. He leaned against it, feeling the surge of emotions he had been suppressing. His thoughts returned again and again to Sarabi and the love he felt for her, a love that seemed impossible in his divided world.