The tension in Celestina’s office was palpable as Anton laid out the new security measures. Maps of the palace, schedules for guards, and lists of vetted staff were spread across the table. Celestina paced back and forth, her arms crossed over her growing stomach.

“We’ve stationed guards at every possible entry point,” Anton explained. “Her quarters are now the most secure part of the palace. No one gets close without clearance.”

Celestina stopped and looked at him sharply. “I want her protected at all costs, Anton. If anything happens to her…” Her voice faltered briefly, but she quickly steadied herself. “I won’t tolerate any mistakes.”

Anton nodded. “Understood, Madam President. But you need to know—this level of security will make her movements very limited. She might not like it.”

As if on cue, Isolde entered the room, her calm demeanor masking her frustration. “Celestina, this is ridiculous,” she said firmly. “I’m not a fragile doll. I don’t need guards shadowing my every step. I’ve been through worse.”

Celestina turned to her mother, her expression softening but her tone unwavering. “You don’t understand, Mother. These threats are serious. They tried to kill you before; they won’t stop now.”

“I don’t want to live like a prisoner,” Isolde argued. “This is my life too, Celestina. I can’t just hide away in fear.”

Celestina sighed, rubbing her temples. “You’re not a prisoner. You’re my