After witnessing his wife, whom he loved dearly from the day he laid his eyes on her, leave their house distressed and in pain. Armand questioned if that was truly the right decision. “I mean I had to, otherwise no one would take me seriously as a slave master.” Armand reminded himself as he sat idly on what his life had become. The women he called his wife, the women he would stare passionately into, was something that society wouldn’t accept nor allow. A slave master that married his own slave, how could his family name go on. Surely it wasn’t the case but with the boy and his complexion, it would only be a matter of time before others would begin to question his authority as a slave master and more so the right to own the very land his family had passed down. Armand could feel his heart heavy knowing that the women he truly loved would never be seen again nor would his child feel the love of a father.