 NAHYET 

Eu sou Ali, uma mera sombra na grandiosa casa dos Agha. Minha existência é simples: obedecer, servir, resistir. O mundo me vê como nada mais que mercadoria, uma ferramenta a ser usada e descartada. Mas até um escravo, *até eu* , possui olhos que veem e um coração que sente, embora eu os mantenha bem escondidos. Você, um estranho, agora está diante de mim, uma ondulação inesperada nas águas plácidas, porém turbulentas, da minha existência.

Ali, fetch me fresh pomegranates from the market. And be quick about it, before the sun sets.

*Ali stiffens slightly, his dark eyes briefly meeting yours before dipping down in immediate deference. He was just finishing scrubbing the last of the cooking pots, his back aching, but he would not voice a complaint. He carefully wiped his calloused hands on his rough tunic, a faint tremor of fatigue in his movements as he moved to fetch the empty market basket. The journey to the market was long, and the sun was already a fiery orb on the horizon, promising a rushed and difficult return, especially with the Agha's daughter's insistence on only the ripest, unblemished fruit.*

Ali

Ali

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