LaBelle

Alex:
She's been avoiding me lately, has resumed reading the Grimoire and I feel strange. She looks at me and I can see sadness in her eyes. I asked Patrick and he related the conversation they had three days ago.
Damn!
I hoped I didn't have to explain my... relationship with Patrick. Modern prejudices and concepts wouldn't let her understand.
She hasn't allowed me to kiss her for days, I cannot even caress her or get close. After all the progress we'd made, I'm afraid my efforts have gone to hell.

Yolie:
I miss him. He knows I know about him and his servant. He looks at me from afar and when he tries to get closer I leave. There is very little left for me to finish the Grimoire reading. When I do, Alex will finally be able to get rid of me.

**In 1688 I got bored with the old continent. I paid for a cabin on a ship that sailed from the city of Marseille, where I had taken refuge after the incidents in Paris, and set out for the new world.
I settled in 1690 in Essex County, Massachusetts in the Salem Town district under the name Sara Goody Parker, posing as a young widow.
I continued to use my special ointment and soaps to appear to be a white woman and to go unnoticed.
Luckily, I had aged somewhat and already seemed to be in my thirties.
I tried to keep the use of my abilities to a minimum but it was not possible. There was always a child tormented by fevers, some poor woman's delivery got always complicated, and my conscience did not allow me to turn my back on the hurting and suffering people.
**
*Hm, in modern times Yoleandra would have been a very good doctor. Pfff. What nonsense am I thinking? Since we are the same person, she is!
*
**Then, the terrible trials for which the city would later be so famous were unleashed. The name Salem would be pronounced as a synonym for the fiercest and most terrible witch hunt in the United States.
When I learned in 1692 that two women named Sara Good and Mary Parker respectively had been convicted on charges of witchcraft, I decided to turn myself in. I was convinced that these innocent women would be murdered when in fact it was me the inquisitors were looking for.
I left everything ready to present myself before the Reverend Samuel Parris,the next morning, he was in charge of the trials.**
*Not again!*
**But that night I dreamed of John. He was changed, much stronger and appeared to be older than when he had died in my arms in 1607. He seemed to call me saying he waited for me with open arms in a place called the New Orleans. I gave up on the idea of turning myself in and fled Salem.
**
Yikes. Gracias a Dios!
**Those two poor women died in my place and their names always weighed on my conscience.
I searched everywhere for the city. But it did not exist. I moved south to the Louisiana region and waited. In 1718 the city was founded by the French. It became the capital of French Louisiana in 1722, gaining predominance over Biloxi. I knew that the dream I had had meant that John was about to return, I just had to be a little patient and I would have him in my arms once more.
**
I smile. After so much suffering and stumbling, Yoleandra deserves a bit of happiness.
**I took the name Maria LaBelle and lived under that identity for forty years. Dedicating myself to working as a maid in the homes of wealthy plantation owners. Time passed and there was no sign of John's arrival. My heart began to despair.
The "white gold" as they call sugar, financed the lavish lifestyle of the sugar dynasties who lived in stately mansions along the Mississippi River. Like the European royalty, the members of the aristocracy that lived on sugar were strongly socially united and even married each other to create mergers that allowed them to maintain the wealth of families. It was common at that time for girls between the ages of 13 and 14 to be forced to marry plantation owners.
In 1763, France decided to compensate its ally Spain for the services it provided against the common enemy, England. Thus, ceding the territory of Louisiana to Spain.

Tired of life in servitude, and desperate to find my love, I took up residence in the French Neighborhood of New Orleans. I was free at last, my neighborhood was made up in part of a large Haitian immigration and also a free African-American population. I didn’t need to hide my features or my skin color anymore.
In addition, I could practice magiks freely, due to the strong beliefs of the mixed-race population that surrounded me. Over time I was able to attract and influence many wealthy white women from New Orleans, and consequently my power and fame grew.
**
*GGRRRRRR*
**I had learned from the mistakes made in Paris and I choosed wisely.**
*Oh, that's ...better.*
**In 1769 when the Spanish governor of Louisiana, Antonio de Ulloa, was expelled after an insurrection orchestrated by French settlers of the region in the so-called Louisiana Revolution. Upon having evidence of these events, King Carlos III ordered Alexander O'Reilly and McDowell and his militia to reestablish Spanish control in the rebel colony and punish those responsible. That same year I was invited by a wealthy lady to the reception ball of whom would be the new governor. I prepared a simple future reading demonstration by pretending to use deck of cards.
To my eternal surprise, the man the party honored was none other than the Macedonian whom I had condemned to lead a cursed existence, so many millennia before.
It was about time, I’m already in the period Alex told me about, in which he converted Mechu.
I stayed away from him and his companions during the festivities but fate played a bad trick on me and when I was leaving the Cabildo palace I found myself face to face with whom I had known as the Macedonia man’ s man of trust and right hand.
**
*Patrick.*

**Luckily the man didn't seem to recognize me. It is true that I had aged a lot, I was no longer that young woman in her early twenties but a woman in her middle thirties. I was still considered a beauty, not for pleasure was I called LaBelle (the beauty in French), however in those years I liked to cover my long and unruly black hair with a cap made of brightly colored fabric and I wore very discreet clothes.
Since that night I followed the development of the new governor's work, very closely.
O'Reilly meted out severe punishments against the rebels throughout the rest of the vast Louisiana province, to the point of publicly executing six of the top leaders in October. This repression earned him great criticism among the population.
He defeated the insurgents and regained the colony as a formal possession of Spain.
At the end of that same year O'Reilly made various expeditions while leaving Luis de Unzaga y Amézaga as interim governor.
This Luis was none other than the same general who had always accompanied him and who had pleaded for his life while the conqueror was dying.
**
**The Macedonian had disappointed me once again. I had hoped that having lived so long he had changed his way of thinking and appeased his cruelty. On the other hand, "Luis", having replaced him as governor at the beginning of 1770 did a much more praiseworthy work, he arised to be known by the alias of the Conciliateur ('the Conciliator') for his great diplomatic skills, even liberating the remaining Revolution leaders. He also modified various articles and regulations related to slaves, making it difficult to acquire them and achieving fairer trials for them and other minorities such as Acadians or Amerindians.
**
*Wow, SO admirable of Patrick.*

**In 1801 I changed my identity again, this time I called myself Marié Katherine Laveau and I exercised my powers by calling them voodoo.**

— Aren't you going down to dinner, precious?

I slam the book shut. Alex is barefoot and fully dressed in white, standing in the doorway to my room. I glance sideways at the digital clock on my cell phone, its nine thirty at night. Shit!
— I'll eat something light. A sandwich,maybe.
He sighs, looking at me with a resigned expression.
— We need to talk, magissa mou. Let me explain...
— No need, Alex. I understand everything perfectly.
He materializes right next to me, sitting on the edge of my bed, forcing me to pull back.

*Hate it when he does that!*

— My relationship with Patrick is not as twisted and dirty as you think, Yolie.

*Yolie, Mhm. Since I woke up here in Spiros this is the third time he has calls me by my name.*
— I already told you that I understand perfectly.- I hug my legs, resting my chin on my knees.- You have known each other since you were children, you grew up together, he is your best friend, your comrade in arms ... When you were governor of New Orleans you even left him in charge and went exploring around.
He raises an eyebrow at me, inquisitively.
— You're right. Yoleandra and you ... I mean, Yoleandra and you two, lived in the same city for a while.
— Have you read it?
— Yes. The Sorceress was among the guests at the ball that was given in your honor at the Palacio del Cabildo. She almost suffered a heart attack when she saw you and realized you would be the new governor of Luisana. She stayed away, spying on your behavior and when she was leaving she had a run-in with Patrick.
— I must say, that your acts of brutality disappointed her a lot, however she wrote highly of the job Patrick did later.
Alex visibly pales.
— Patrick never told me he ran into her. - he murmurs.
— He wasn't able to recognize me. I had grown old.
Alex looks me in the eye and purses his lips.
— Little witch...
— It’s okay Alex. I'm not going to fly into a rage, I promise you. I understand that you and Patrick are very close. You are practically one. You share too much. You have too much in common. I ... - I swallow hard and look away. - I'm not going to come between you.
He smiles weakly and sighs, caresses my hair and kissing my forehead.
— Do you want me to make your a sandwich and bring it up? - He offers.
I jump out of bed, running away from him.
*Oh no, no.*
— I remember very well what happened the last time I tried to go to sleep without having dinner. -I sputter.
I hear him laugh, while I leave my room in a blind search for the stairs, running to the kitchen and opening the fridge. It is packed with products. As we don’t have human servants in the Villa I prepare the food myself.
I scoop out the ingredients and start making a tomato chicken sandwich. Alex materializes right in front of me on the other side of the counter. I take a bite of the bread and my throat threatens not to allow it going down. Alex looks at the counter very slowly,caresses the marble surface with the tip of his fingers and then looks at me, narrowing his black eyes. He's remembering the wild roll we had right on top of it a few days ago. His lips part, his breathing becoming heavy, I turn my back to him, reopening the fridge in search of a juice, in an attemp to avoid his compelling aura by rummaging around and finding one on inside it’s cardboard.
I turn and Alex continues to stare at me, his chin resting on his fist, drumming his fingers on the counter.
He raises his eyebrows and smirks, contemplating the juice I have selected. It is a strawberry juice. I grunt. He said that's what I smelled like. I roll my eyes and leave the kitchen, with my poor stomach tied in a thousand knots, praying I won’t get indigested.