Chapter 13: Catalina

Catalina was cooking lunch with Grandma Maria. It was almost ready, and as her granddaughter, she often helped to learn household chores. Most servants didn’t have many choices for their future — they either followed their parents’ footsteps, joined the church, or enlisted in the militias. For women, things were even worse: they either married into a good family or became lifelong servants. Considering how well the Gómez family treated them, Grandma Maria wanted Catalina to become a proper servant, someone the family could trust and keep close.

Francisco walked into the kitchen looking for her.”Catalina,” he called softly.

When he saw her, he smiled, a bit dazed. It was obvious the two had feelings for each other — and not just because they grew up together. Francisco had been raised alongside the servants’ children. His father, a liberal man, disliked the rigid hierarchies of bloodlines. After spending most of his life in Bogotá, he had seen too many noble scions treating servants like dirt, and he found it disgusting.

To prevent Francisco from becoming like them, he let the servant children play and study with his son. He even taught them basic subjects — mathematics, philosophy, theology. His goal was to create a bond between Francisco and the servants, forming a group of loyal people who would stand by the family if anything ever happened. He made sure they understood — subtly, through their parents — that their dignity depended on the Gómez household. If the family fell, most of them would end up on the streets or working for crueler masters.

The reason Francisco fell for Catalina was her spirit. She carried the blood of the Pijao — fierce and valiant. When he was bullied by the noble children in Bogotá, she was the first to stand up for him, punching and kicking his tormentors. Even if it was considered improper — even humiliating for a boy — Francisco always felt safe with her. Of course, every time that happened, Grandma Maria scolded and smacked Catalina, and not even Francisco’s father, Carlos, could intervene. From then on, Francisco respected Catalina deeply, almost like an older sister.

Later, Carlos taught Francisco Spanish esgrima (fencing), as well as how to fight with his fists. In Spain, there weren’t any formal martial arts — fighting was raw and without rules. “If you can punch, punch. If you can kick, kick,” his father said. Francisco practiced often, sometimes even with the servants.

His love for Catalina truly deepened when they were thirteen. Two years earlier, Carlos had taken them to the province of Mariquita (modern-day Tolima), near Ibagué, for business. The journey took about eight to twelve days. On the road, they were attacked by bandits, and the group became separated. Catalina and Francisco hid in the wilderness and survived alone for eight days.

By then, Francisco wasn’t the weak boy he had once been. He hunted, searched for rivers, and tried to keep them alive. During those days together, their bond grew — until the fifth day, when tragedy struck. A coral snake bit Francisco. Its venom attacked the nervous system, leaving him paralyzed and gasping for air.

Despite her fear, Catalina killed the snake with his machete and tried to help him. She knew some indigenous medicine and searched desperately for herbs. For two days, Francisco’s condition was critical — he could barely breathe. In her panic, Catalina tried something no one in the region had ever seen: she gave him air from her own mouth. At the time, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation was almost unknown, practiced only by a few doctors in Europe. When asked later why she did it, she answered innocently, “He couldn’t breathe, so I tried to give him some air.”

By a miracle, Carlos and the servants found them and rushed Francisco to Ibagué. He survived — and never forgot who saved him. From that day, he swore he would marry her.

That promise lingered in his heart when his father later agreed to send him to Germany. He couldn’t bear the thought of Catalina living her whole life as a servant or a housewife. He knew she had ambitions — she wanted to learn, to make a name for herself. Francisco often thought that if she had been born in another time, she might have been a famous scholar, a doctor, even a president. But fate wasn’t fair. She was gifted with intelligence yet born into a world that didn’t value it.

Still, Francisco refused to accept that. He didn’t know how much he could do, but he was determined to help her. She might not be admitted as a student, but if he brought her as his assistant, she could attend classes and learn the same knowledge. Titles didn’t matter — if she mastered the sciences, she could become South America’s first great scientist.

“Ahem,” coughed Grandma Maria, snapping them out of their daydream. She was worried. Whether or not Carlos would approve, a relationship between them was dangerous. If things went wrong, the entire Gómez household could suffer. Yet, she couldn’t find it in her heart to stop them.

Francisco straightened. “Sorry, Grandma Maria. May I take Catalina with me for a moment?” he asked with a pleading look.

The old woman sighed, torn between duty and affection. Seeing their hopeful faces, her heart softened. “Fine. Go. But don’t make a mess — I’ll finish lunch myself. And remember what we talked about, Catalina,” she warned sternly.

“Yes, Grandma,” Catalina said, lowering her gaze.

Francisco took her outside, walking among the crops.

“I talked with my father about going to university in Göttingen, Germany,” he said, keeping his tone neutral, wanting to tease her a bit.

“Oh…” Catalina lowered her head. “I wish you good luck,” she said in a trembling voice, trying to hide her tears.

Francisco panicked. “Wait—sorry! I was only teasing! I didn’t mean to make you sad. I asked Father if you could come with me. You might not be allowed as a student, but as my personal assistant, you could attend classes and learn everything with me.”

Catalina looked up slowly. “Really?”

“Yes,” he said earnestly. “I know you want more, and it won’t be easy, but I’ll do everything I can to help you. Just… promise me you won’t cry anymore.”

“Why?” she asked softly, this time with a playful smile.

“Because you’re too important to me. You know how I feel.”

“I don’t know,” she teased. “Can you tell me?”

Francisco hesitated, his face red. “Because I lo—” He stopped when he saw the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “You…”

“Me what?” she asked, grinning.

Before he could finish, a servant interrupted with an awkward cough. “Young Master, Little Catalina — Grandma Maria sent me to tell you lunch is ready.”

Catalina giggled. “That’s for teasing me,” she said, quickly kissing his cheek before running back toward the estate.

Francisco froze, speechless.

“Uh… Young Master?” the servant said awkwardly.

“You didn’t see anything,” Francisco muttered.

“This servant saw nothing,” the man replied solemnly, though a smirk betrayed him.

Francisco sighed. “What happened to the servants’ respect for their masters?”

The servant chuckled, trying to suppress his laughter.

“Come on,” Francisco said finally. “Let’s go. Lunch is waiting.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep