Celestina sat at the head of the war room table, Isolde by her side, as Captain Renz unfurled a map on the table. The air was heavy with anticipation.

“This,” Renz said, pointing to a location deep in the mountains, “is where the loyalists have been hiding. We’ve confirmed through multiple sources that it’s their main stronghold. Their leaders are there, along with their remaining forces.”

Isolde placed a reassuring hand on Celestina’s shoulder. “This is your chance to end it, Celestina. End it for Arden. For the nation.”

Celestina nodded, her jaw tight. “We strike at dawn. No mistakes. No second chances.” She looked at Renz. “Make sure the teams are prepared.”

Renz saluted. “Yes, Madam President. The loyalists won’t escape this time.”

The sun barely crept over the horizon as Celestina watched the military operation unfold from the command center. Reports came in steadily over the radio, each one detailing progress as her forces advanced.

“This is Unit Alpha,” a voice crackled through the radio. “We’ve breached the perimeter. Minimal resistance so far.”

Celestina leaned forward. “Good. Proceed cautiously. Their leaders won’t give up easily.”

Explosions echoed through the mountains, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Celestina gripped the edge of the table, her heart pounding as she imagined her soldiers out there, risking everything.

After what felt like hours, Renz stepped into the room, a rare smile on his face.

“Madam President, the operation was a success. The loyalist leaders have been captured, and their forces have been neutralized. It’s over.”

Celestina let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Relief washed over her, but it was bittersweet. “Good work, Captain. Make sure the prisoners are treated fairly. We’ll give the people justice, not vengeance.”

Isolde smiled proudly. “You’ve done it, Celestina. You’ve given this country a chance to heal.”

In the days that followed, Celestina focused all her energy on uniting the nation. She issued decrees to rebuild infrastructure, improve education, and provide aid to struggling communities. Her speeches became a rallying cry for hope and resilience.

During one visit to a small town, a young boy ran up to her, clutching a hand-drawn picture of a family.

“This is for you, Madam President,” he said shyly. “It’s my family. I hope your family is happy too.”

Celestina knelt down, taking the picture with trembling hands. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “This means more to me than you know.”

Her people’s faith in her leadership grew stronger with each passing day, though Celestina knew the road to recovery would be long.

The memorial for Dimitri was held in the heart of the capital, where thousands of citizens gathered to honor him. Celestina stood on the stage, holding Arden in her arms, her voice trembling as she spoke.

“Dimitri gave his life for this nation,” she began, her eyes scanning the crowd. “He wasn’t perfect, but he believed in a future where all of us could live free from fear and tyranny. Today, we remember his courage, his sacrifice, and his love for this country.”

She paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “And I promise, as your leader, and as Arden’s mother, I will continue that fight. We will not let his sacrifice be in vain.”

As applause erupted, Celestina looked down at Arden, who was smiling up at her. The weight of her grief felt lighter in that moment, knowing her daughter was her reason to keep going.

Isolde stood beside her, placing a supportive hand on her back. “You spoke beautifully, my darling,” she said softly.

Celestina nodded, her tears falling freely. “I just wish he could’ve been here to see this.”

Later that evening, as the palace quieted, Celestina retreated to her study. A box of Dimitri’s belongings had been delivered to her earlier in the day, and she hadn’t yet found the courage to open it.

With trembling hands, she lifted the lid and sifted through the items—an old watch, a photograph of the two of them, a small notebook. At the bottom, she found a sealed envelope with her daughter’s name scrawled across it in Dimitri’s handwriting.

She opened it carefully, unfolding the letter inside.

“Dear Arden,

I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to meet you, but I already know you’ll be incredible. You come from a line of strong, brave women. Your mother—she’s stronger than she knows, and she’ll teach you to be just as resilient.

Take care of her for me, okay? She’ll need you as much as you’ll need her.

Be strong for her. Be her light.

With all my love,

Dimitri.”