The sound of applause echoed through the palace halls as Nivea returned from yet another successful event. Dressed impeccably in one of Celestina’s signature navy-blue gowns, she carried herself with a grace that had become second nature. Members of the palace staff greeted her warmly, offering compliments as she passed.

“You were brilliant, Madam President,” one of the aides said with a smile.

“Thank you,” Nivea replied, her voice steady, though she felt a pang of guilt every time someone called her that.

Celestina watched from the end of the hallway, her heart sinking. It was as if Nivea had stepped into her life so seamlessly that no one even noticed her absence.

“She’s doing what she was asked to do,” Celestina told herself, though the words felt hollow.

Later that evening, Nivea sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was a stranger—a polished version of herself that she barely recognized.

When Dimitri knocked softly on her door and entered, he found her deep in thought. “You looked confident out there today,” he said, sitting down beside her.

Nivea let out a shaky laugh. “I’ve gotten good at pretending, haven’t I?”

“You’re not just pretending,” Dimitri said gently. “You’re stepping up when the nation needs you most.”

Nivea shook her head, her voice trembling. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve lost who I am, Dimitri. I don’t know if I can ever go back to my old life. And even if I could, what kind of life would it be after this?”

Dimitri placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch steady and reassuring. “You totally got this, Nivea. And when this is over, I promise you’ll have a choice about what comes next.”

She glanced at him, her expression softening. “Thank you… for always believing in me.”

Unbeknownst to them, Celestina had paused outside the door, their voices drifting into the hallway. At first, she was going to walk away, but then she heard something that stopped her in her tracks.

“I don’t know if Celestina is strong enough for all of this,” Nivea admitted. “Sometimes it feels like she’s… fading under the weight of it all.”

Dimitri’s reply came after a long pause. “She’s been through more than most people can imagine. But she’s still here. That says something.”

Nivea sighed. “I just… I wish I knew what she really wanted. Does she even want to lead? Or is she just doing it because she feels like she has to?”

Celestina’s heart clenched as she backed away from the door. Their words stung more than she cared to admit, though part of her wondered if there was truth in them.

The next morning, Celestina summoned Dimitri to her office.

“I’m going to the next event,” she announced, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Dimitri’s brow furrowed. “That’s not a good idea, Celestina. The threats against you are increasing. Nivea can handle it—”

“No,” she interrupted sharply. “I’m done watching from the sidelines while someone else takes my place. The people need to see me, Dimitri. Not her.”

He crossed his arms, his tone growing more forceful. “You’re the president. That means protecting yourself so you can continue to lead. Going to this event puts everything at risk.”

Celestina’s gaze hardened. “Do you think I don’t know the risks? I’ve faced them my entire life. But if I let fear stop me now, what kind of leader does that make me?”

Dimitri sighed, running a hand through his hair. “At least let me double security. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Fine,” Celestina said, though her tone was clipped. “But I’m going, Dimitri. That’s final.”

As the day of the event approached, the palace buzzed with preparations. Celestina was determined to reassert her authority, but her confidence wavered when she entered her office late one evening to find an envelope on her desk.

She opened it slowly, her hands trembling as she read the note inside:

“Step aside, or face the consequences. This is your final warning.”