Coven II:

Yolie:
Another woman is approaching us, she seems to be in her forties, and she’s slim and tall. She wears a very tight black dress. She does not wear any makeup and is still beautiful. Her blonde hair is extremely long. She wears it in a huge braid hanging over her left shoulder. She comes in the arm of a man who seems familiar to me. Where have I seen him? He wears clothes that make me suspect he comes from India.
—Sir. - The woman bows perfectly and looks Alex in the eyes, smiling. She speaks with a strong accent. She must be English. - It's an honor to see you again.
—Georgiana. - Alex responds with a slight tilt of his head.
—It's my pleasure, shreemaan. - The man greets, clasping both hands in front of his face, as if in a prayer. His English isn’t as clear and perfect as that of his companion.
—Mahatma. - Alex responds imitating the Indian's greeting.
My eyes widen. Oh my God! GANDHI! I'm so surprised and impressed! A hero, I am in the presence of one of the greatest heroes of India!
—This is Yolie Bruzain, my guest tonight. - Alex introduces me. I don't know what to do so... So, I smile like a psychotic patient who has run out of her pills.
—Nice to meet you miss. - Gandhi whispers.
—The pleasure is all mine sir. - I answer with a broken voice. - Not every day am I able to meet a hero. - Tears fill my eyes and I have an elephant lump in my throat.
The woman purses her lips. I turn to her and tilt my head in her direction.
—It is also a pleasure, madam.
Her expression relaxes a bit, but I notice a strange glow creep into her gaze.
— In another time your guest would have been burned at the stake, Mégas.- she says looking at Alex and opening a huge black fan with which she slowly blows air.
Alex smiles but doesn't respond. I scowl at him. The woman turns her eyes on me, as if waiting for an answer.
—You're right ma'am. Let us thank God then, in recent times humanity has become more civilized.
She smiles and Alex looks at me proudly. Have I passed some kind of test or something?
—I like your friend, Mégas. Hopefully in pursuing what you want we won't all end up dead. -She whispers, slamming her fan shut, she offers Alex another bow and she and Gandhi take their leaves. Chatting animatedly.
— I do know who he is, she...I have no idea.
—I'll tell you latter. - Alex promises.
There is a guest who stays away from the rest. He drinks from his goblet and watches how things unfold , remaining silent and taciturn. He wears a black ball tux, with a bow tie. Alex leads me to him.
—Qin Shi Huang. - Alex greets. - How are things going in Asia?
The man is short, from his features and his name I suspect he is Chinese.
—Mégas. - He greets bowing his head. - Everything in order as always, sir.
Alex smiles and the man walks away.
—He's a bit ... antisocial. Isn't he?
—That he is. He was also the emperor who had the Great Wall of China built.
WoW!!!
Three of the guests come to us. The first in a woman, in her forties, is red-haired, has a lively face dominated by lively and shrewd dark green eyes. She wears her hair short in a style widely used by older women to combat menopausal hot flashes. She dresses in a very austere, simple style, a white smock and a gray smock, she wears low, black shoes. Two men also approach accompanying her, one I recognized instantly, the other I have no idea who the hell he could be.
The man I don't know wears white pants and a long-sleeved red shirt. He is wearing rustic shoes, which appear to have been cooked with jute bags.
The one that if I know dresses in white. Except for the black beret on his head, in which a silver star gleams.
— Mégas . - The woman greets singing. With a smile from ear to ear.
—Gráinne.- Alex responds. Granny? That woman cannot be his grandmother.
—Mégas. - greets the man I do not know.
—Markos. - Alex returns.
—Señor. - greets the man who is so familiar to me in perfect Spanish.
—Giuseppe.- Alex responds. Why does he call him that?
They look at me with interest. Like I'm a freak. Silence is uncomfortable.
— Alejandro has told us that you come from Cuba.- The so-called "Giuseppe" breaks the conversation by speaking to me in Spanish.
—Yes. - I screech.
—A beautiful country.
With this, the three of them leave and I try to breathe so as not to faint from the shock.
—Since when is Che Guevara called Giuseppe? - I ask Alex.
—His name was Giuseppe Garibaldi in 1846, when he died of typhoid fever at the site of the city of Salto in Uruguay, at the age of thirty-seven.
—And the other two?
—Gráinne Ní Mháille, better known as Grace O'Malley she is Irish, was the pirate queen of the 16th century and Markos Botsaris was a general and hero of the Greek War of Independence.
—What an amazing collection you have. Queens, heroes, pirates and even Dracula himself. I'm impressed.
— I'm glad you like them, mikrí mou magissa.- He kisses my forehead.
—What did you call me?
—I called you my little witch.
I bite my lip.
The guests have spread out and gathered in small groups. Alex paces among them, chatting animatedly. He doesn’t let me go away from his side for a moment.
The night has been incredible and long. However, there is still a member of his coven that I have not met. He said there were eleven at the moment I have been introduced to Cleopatra, Vlad, Marié and I have seen her son, there was also that Georgina or Georgiana, Gandhi, Grace, Markos and "Giuseppe" (I was amazed).
A man who seems to be about a hundred years old approaches us. He wears a gray suit, and the most impressive thing about his appearance is his extremely long white beard.
—Sir, it is as always a privilege. - greets the old man with a bow of his head.
— Sir Henry. - Alex smiles.
—May I praise the beauty of your guest, sir? One rarely see oneself in the presence of such a beautiful and powerful lady. - He smiles in my direction.
—You are very kind, sir. - I smile.
He bows to both of us and leaves. I lift my eyebrows at Alex.
—Sir Henry Parkes better known as "the Australian" .- explains .- greatly influenced the formation and organization of that country.
I shrug my shoulders. I'll look him up on Wikipedia.
He takes me to a corner where a woman in her eighties is sleeping. She wears a scarf around her head also wears a white robe and a necklace made of snails and seeds, which hangs around her neck. She looks enormously like one of those women who dress up and pretend to be sunflower sellers from the colonial era, in the surroundings of Old Havana.
—Mechu, I've brought her. - Alex whispers and the apparently sleeping old woman opens one eye. She jumps to her feet and looks at me incredulously, taking my hands in her, looks me in the eye and smiles.
—It's incredible, sir, but yes. It’s her.-the old woman answered in wonder, in a very rough English mixed with a French accent. -. Much younger and prettier than when Mechu met her.
I look at Alex raising my eyebrows.
—Mechu was one of my maids during the time I lived in New Orleans, being its Governor in 1769. Of all the people I met, illustrious or common people; she was the only one who recognized what I really was.
Mechu frees my hands. Alex approaches the old woman and kisses her hand reverently, she smiles nervously.
Wow! The rogue is capable of seducing even grannies! Alex comes back to my side and puts his arm back around my waist.
—The most curious thing is, that Mechu also met you, precious. - whispers Alex in my ear.
— She met Yoleandra, you mean?
—Yes. It turns out that apparently, the Sorceress and I both lived in the same city for a while.