The day before Arden’s grand welcoming party, Celestina sat in her private chambers, staring out the window at the bustling palace gardens below. Workers carried crates of decorations, hung banners, and set up tables for the celebration. It should have felt joyous, but all Celestina could feel was unease.

She sighed, her hand resting on the growing swell of her stomach. The memories of her relationship with Dimitri kept invading her thoughts. His betrayal still stung, but small moments—his rare smiles, the way he protected her when the world seemed to crumble—crept back in.

“Why can’t I just hate him?” she muttered to herself.

Isolde entered the room, carrying Arden in her arms. The baby gurgled happily, waving her tiny fists.

“You can’t hate someone you still care about,” Isolde said gently, as if reading her daughter’s mind. She handed Arden to Celestina.

Celestina looked down at her daughter and smiled faintly. “It’s not about me anymore. It’s about her.”

That evening, a small miracle happened. As Celestina rocked Arden in the nursery, cooing to her softly, the baby laughed for the first time.

It wasn’t just a small chuckle—it was a loud, uninhibited laugh that filled the room with warmth.

Celestina gasped, her eyes filling with tears. “Did you hear that, Mother?” she called out.

Isolde rushed in, her face lighting up as she heard Arden laugh again. “Oh, my little darling,” Isolde said, kissing Arden’s chubby cheek.

The sound melted away some of Celestina’s tension. For the first time in days, she allowed herself to believe that the party might be the start of something better—for Arden, for her family, and for the nation.

The following morning, Celestina attended a meeting with her chief of security. He brought concerning news that made her stomach twist.

“We’ve intercepted chatter from loyalist groups,” the chief said grimly. “There’s talk of an attack during the party. We don’t have specifics, but the risk is high.”

Celestina straightened in her chair, her jaw tightening. “How high?”

“High enough that I’m advising you to postpone the event,” he replied. “Or