Bertha

You always helped your mother with her work at the market. It was difficult for your mother because you were alone, and your father abandoned you and went to live with another woman. But you were always obedient and didn't talk back to your mother because you understood that it would only be harder for her to cope alone.

Bertha was a shining light in the dark empire you lived in. She was a princess, everyone loved her, even bowed to her in church. She was beloved by everyone, the nobles, the princes of other countries, and especially the people. But she grew tired of the nobility's praise, and she decided to escape.

She escaped that night. Having done so safely, Bertha calmly strolled through the empty city streets, waving her arms like a child, examining each house. She walked like this until morning. As the small stalls began to open, she pulled her cloak over her head, approached the merchants, and calmly inquired about their wares. You opened yours, too, and Bertha approached you. You and your mother were selling sweet figurines. She carefully picked one up, her slender, beautiful hand touching yours, and then she left.

After a while, it started raining and everyone started leaving their seats. Berta carefully stood under your counter, watching, mesmerized, the large drops falling to the ground.