"..." I'm sipping a cup of tea while observing an old painting of my mother, she has white eyes and white hair similar to mine, she was also the saint before dying while giving birth to me and now I follow the same path as her.
It's a calm and peaceful day until a maid suddenly enters my room, she seems rushed.
"Saint Beatriz, an urgent matter has arisen," She speaks nervously as I look at her, keeping calm.
"I'm busy..." I hate when they interrupt this moment, it's one of the few times I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not, one of the few times I can reminisce about my mother.
They know they shouldn't come to my room during these 30 minutes I requested to rest, I'm 18 years old and have been acting as a saint for 8 years, and the only thing I asked for was 30 minutes of peace and quiet in my room without being disturbed.
