Beatrix Von Sanguine held a glass of wine while chaos reigned below.
To Beatrix, wine was more important than most lives. She would watch entire strongholds crumble if it would get her a bottle of good wine.
Her fanaticism was that insane. She'd become addicted to wine from a young age, growing up in the blood thirsty Sanguine clan where a child had to achieve great things just to earn the attention of their parents. Where a child had to be destined for greatness, or receive only scorn.
In such a clan, there was no love. Only… use. In such a clan Beatrix had grown to love wine. Nothing else seemed to deserve her love.
Not the cold blooded Sovereign who only cared about the advancement of the clan. Not the heartless mother who ran away to another clan the first chance she got. No one.
'Except my baby.'
