The early morning light filtered through the palace windows, casting a golden glow over the bustling corridors. Celestina sat in her office, papers spread across the desk, her hand resting protectively over her growing belly. Her once unyielding expression softened slightly as she read reports detailing the progress of her government’s reforms. For the first time in months, there was a glimmer of hope.

Anton entered the room, bowing slightly. “Madam President, the economic recovery program is gaining momentum. Several regions are reporting increased crop yields after receiving the new farming subsidies.”

Celestina looked up, relief flickering in her tired eyes. “That’s good news, Anton. The people need to see tangible results. How are they responding?”

Anton hesitated. “There’s still some skepticism, but many are beginning to trust you again. The rallies demanding your resignation have almost disappeared.”

Celestina nodded. “It’s a start. But trust is fragile. I won’t rest until every citizen believes in this government.”

In the adjoining sitting room, Isolde paced, reviewing a stack of letters from citizens. She had become an integral part of Celestina’s administration, offering wisdom and a calming presence during the most chaotic days.

“Celestina,” Isolde called, stepping into the office. “I’ve read through these letters from rural provinces. The tone is shifting. They’re beginning to see you as their leader, not just your father’s daughter.”

Celestina gestured for her mother to sit. “Do you think they’ll forgive me for the mistakes I’ve made?”

Isolde smiled gently, taking her daughter’s hand. “The people don’t need perfection; they need someone who won’t abandon them. You’ve shown them strength and compassion. That’s what they’ll remember.”

Later that day, Celestina visited a newly established community center in the heart of the capital. The center provided food, shelter, and resources for displaced families, a key part of her recovery initiative. As she stepped inside, applause broke out among the crowd.

An elderly woman approached her, her hands trembling as she reached out. “Madam President, you saved us. My family was on the brink of starvation, and now we have hope again.”

Celestina bent down slightly, holding the woman’s hands. “It’s not just me—it’s all of us working together. This is your victory too.”

Nearby, children played with donated toys, their laughter filling the air. Celestina’s chest tightened. For a moment, the weight of the nation seemed lighter as she imagined her own child growing up in a brighter future.

That evening, Isolde found Celestina sitting on the balcony, gazing at the stars.

“You’ve been quiet since we returned,” Isolde said, settling into the chair beside her.

Celestina sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be enough for them—for this nation. Every victory feels fleeting, and every day brings a new challenge.”

Isolde placed a comforting hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Leadership isn’t about being perfect, my darling. It’s about showing up every day and fighting for what you believe in. And soon, you’ll have someone else to fight for.”

Celestina smiled faintly, her hand resting on her belly. “I already do.”

Over the next few weeks, the nation continued to heal. Roads were repaired, schools reopened, and markets began to thrive. Celestina’s approval ratings climbed steadily, and for the first time in years, the capital buzzed with cautious optimism.

Dimitri remained at her side, though their relationship was still strained. He worked tirelessly to root out the remnants of the loyalist network, ensuring that the progress they made wouldn’t be undone by hidden threats.

One afternoon, Dimitri approached Celestina as she reviewed a proposal for healthcare reform.

“Madam President,” he said, his tone formal but warm. “The last loyalist cell has been neutralized. The capital is secure.”

Celestina looked up, surprised. “That’s… incredible news. Thank you, Dimitri.”

He hesitated before speaking again. “And Celestina, I hope one day you’ll trust me the way you used to. I’ll always be here for you.”

Her expression softened, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she returned to her papers, her thoughts conflicted.

As the weeks passed, Celestina shifted her focus to preparing for the arrival of her child. Her room was filled with baby clothes, toys, and soft blankets. Isolde insisted on overseeing every detail, from the choice of crib to the color of the nursery.

“Mother, you’re spoiling this baby already,” Celestina teased as she watched Isolde fold tiny clothes.

“Of course I am,” Isolde replied with a grin. “I missed so many years with you. Let me have this.”

Celestina reached out, touching her mother’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here. I can’t imagine doing this alone.”

Isolde squeezed her hand gently. “You’ll never be alone again, my princess. This baby will remind you of that every day.”

One evening, as Celestina finalized a major economic reform plan, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen. She gasped, clutching her stomach.

Isolde rushed to her side. “Celestina! What’s wrong?”

“I think… it’s the baby,” Celestina managed, her voice strained.

Anton burst into the room moments later. “We need a doctor—now!