The Bewitched Soul 9 Your Mother..

He felt like he had a strange connection with this beauty.

She looked smarter and wiser than most. Her wisdom was evident in the brow and curve of her full lips. Her blackish violet eyes showed her soul. Her skin looked pale, but her face glowed with confidence. Her dainty nose was imposing. Long, wavy blonde hair, so smooth and silky, almost as it looked like a pastel painting. With her hair of wool and her head held high, she looked confident.

Rus.h.i.+ng towards the mirror, he placed the painting to the right of him. Looking at the reflection of the two images on the mirror, a painting, and the other one alive, Alex trembled. His fingers started shaking. His lips quivered.

"Mother?", his voice shook.

He resembled her.

Looking at the picture, Alex was a.s.sured that this lady was no ordinary.

He then remembered what his father told him once.

'You cannot be this weak Alexander. Your mother was one of the strongest women I've seen.'.

"Your mother was one of the strongest women I've seen.", he murmured again and again.

The picture clearly depicted how confident and strong the lady looked.

His eyes looked like hers.

No wonder why his father had kept in a secret drawer.

He felt frustrated for not finding this painting before. After all these years, never did he ever was able to get to the secret drawer. The questions which ran in his mind for years started forming more in numbers and hit his mind hard like the sea tides. .h.i.tting the seash.o.r.e rocks. He was in a complete mess. He needs to dig out the answers hidden deep inside. His ident.i.ty was a mystery.

Closing the wardrobe, he got out of the room and closed it. With the painting rolled in his hand, he carefully kept in his coat pocket and took long strides and walked towards his room. Upon reaching, he started searching for files containing information about the white witches. Finding nothing important, he threw the files on the floor. His eyes started changing its color. The nerves started popping out of this forehead. He clenched his fists, the nails dug deep into his skin. Gritting his teeth, he slammed his fist hard on to the table. His table broke into pieces. Being a vampire his strength was of no comparison with the humans.

Hearing the loud thud, the butler rushed to the Lord's room.

He knocked on the door thrice.

"Come in", Alex took a deep breath and spoke.

"My Lord is everything alright?", Julius asked as his eyebrows furrowed.

He received no response from him.

After a while, thinking that he might have some clue about the painting, he spoke,

"You've served the Royal family for centuries. You had served before even when I was born."

Julius had no clue what the Lord was talking about.

"Yes My Lord. It's my honor to serve the Royal family and will keep serving", he spoke with his right fist placed on his left chest.

Alexander took out the painting from his coat's pocket and opened it wide in front of him.

"Who is she?", he asked.

Julius looked like his face had drained all blood. Cold sweat slid past his ears.

"Who is she, Julius?", Alexander asked nonchalantly.

"Your mother," Julius spoke in a low voice, enough for both to hear.

Alexander gasped slightly. His heart felt heavy listening to the two words, his face clouded with strange expressions. After all this time, after centuries he saw his mother. A portrait of hers. He tried to speak, but no voice came out of his voice box. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

Being the most powerful King of the entire four provinces, yet now he was helpless. He yearned to see his mother, knowing that she's dead. The Victorious King yearned like a lost kid searching for his mother all around helplessly. The only difference was Alexander yearned for his dead mother.

His eyes reflected a ray of an intense feeling of longing for something..... his mother.

Opening his eyes,

"You knew about her?", Alex spoke calmly, his eyes fixed at his mother's portrait.

"Ye-Yes my Lord", Julius shuttered. His head bowed and eyes stared at the ground.

"Tell me more about her", Alexander ordered.

Chills ran down his spine, Julius's forehead was covered with droplets of sweat.

"Speak.", Alex spoke. His voice was cold as ice.

Julius raised his head and looked into the Lord's eyes helplessly.

"Lady Rowena was a white witch warrior. Lord Randolph and Lady Rowena loved each other. Being a pure-blood witch, she held extraordinary superpowers.", he subconsciously answered, his eyes stared at the portrait.

"She led the white witch army which comprised of female white witches. Known for her excellent leaders.h.i.+p qualities, she trained the whole army. One of the strongest armies in the continent, no one dared to attack the Province of Ostbarrow. She was feared by many.", he spoke, his eyes determined.

"King Randolph fell in love with her at first sight.", he added.

No wonder why his father fell in love with such a confident yet beautiful lady, Alexander thought.

"The Witch King, Lord Gerard Rudhale had once invite Lord Randolph for a visit to his province as a guest. Lord Randolph accepted his invitation. All the necessary arrangements were made for the visit. We left the kingdom for Ostbarrow. It took us three days to reach the Ostbarrow palace. Everything was taken care of by Lord Gerard himself. He was delighted to see his close friend near him. After so many years, they had their small reunion.", Julius smiled bitterly as he spoke.

"Once having a morning walk with Lord Gerard in the vast garden of the palace, Lord Randolph noticed a beautiful lady standing near the garden lake.", he remembered.

"That was the time where it all started my Lord", Julius bowed and spoke to Alexander.

"Then?", asked Alexander.

"The rest is history my Lord.", Julius looked into the eyes of the Lord and smiled bitterly.