Dimitri stood with Liora in a small village café, the air thick with anticipation. Across the room, a young woman busily cleared tables, her movements quick and efficient. She wore a plain apron over a simple dress, her dark hair tied back, and a faint flush of exertion colored her cheeks.
“That’s her,” Dimitri said quietly, nodding toward the woman.
Liora studied her closely. “She’s almost identical. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was Celestina’s twin.”
Dimitri approached the counter where the woman had just placed an empty tray. “Nivea Laurent?”
The woman looked up, startled. Her bright green eyes—eerily similar to Celestina’s—widened in surprise. “Yes? Who’s asking?”
Dimitri softened his tone, sensing her unease. “We need to talk. Privately.”
Nivea frowned. “If this is about my rent, I already paid it—”
“It’s not about that,” Dimitri interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “This is… something different. Can we sit down?”
Reluctantly, Nivea led them to a quiet corner of the café. “What’s this about?” she asked, crossing her arms.
Liora glanced at Dimitri, who took the lead. “You’ve probably heard of President Celestina Alvada.”
Nivea nodded, confused. “Of course. Everyone knows her. Why?”
Dimitri leaned forward, lowering his voice. “You look just like her. Uncannily so. And we need your help.”
Nivea blinked, clearly thrown off. “Wait… what?”
Liora placed a small mirror on the table, next to a photo of Celestina. “Look for yourself.”
Nivea hesitated before picking up the mirror. Her eyes flicked between her reflection and the photo, her face paling. “You want me to pretend to be the president?” she asked, her voice rising in disbelief. “I’m just a waitress!”
Dimitri nodded solemnly. “Yes, we want you to step into her role—partially. Not in her meetings or decision-making, but for public appearances where her life is at risk.”
Nivea laughed nervously, shaking her head. “I think you have the wrong person. I don’t know anything about politics. I don’t even know which fork to use at a fancy dinner!”
It was Liora who spoke next, her voice steady. “Nivea, this isn’t just about politics. It’s about protecting a leader who’s fighting to save this nation. You could save lives by stepping into this role. You wouldn’t be alone. We’ll train you, protect you.”
Nivea bit her lip, clearly overwhelmed. “I don’t know… this sounds crazy.”
Later that day, Dimitri found Nivea sitting on a bench outside the café, staring at the photo of Celestina. He sat down beside her, the evening air cool and quiet.
“You’re scared,” he said softly.
“Wouldn’t you be?” she replied, not looking at him. “I’m just a regular girl. I don’t know how to act like a president. What if I mess up?”
Dimitri’s tone was calm and reassuring. “You’re not just a regular girl, Nivea. You have something very few people do—a chance to make history. To be part of something bigger than yourself.”
She glanced at him, her brow furrowed. “But why me? Out of everyone in the world, why does it have to be me?”
“Because you’re perfect for this,” Dimitri said. “You have no ties to politics, no connections to Alvada’s old regime. You’re a fresh face. Someone who can blend in without raising suspicion. And most importantly, you’re brave enough to consider it.”
Nivea let out a shaky breath. “Brave? I don’t feel brave.”
“Bravery isn’t about not being scared,” Dimitri said with a small smile. “It’s about doing what needs to be done, even when you are.”
She looked at him for a long moment, as if searching for a reason to say no. But instead, she nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll try. But no promises.”
The following day, Nivea was brought to the presidential palace. Her awe was obvious as she walked through the grand halls, her gaze darting between the intricate decor and the uniformed guards standing at attention.
“This place is… huge,” she murmured to Liora.
“You’ll get used to it,” Liora replied with a smirk. “If you survive the training.”
In a large room set up for her evaluation, Nivea faced a panel of advisors, including Dimitri and Celestina herself.
“You must be Nivea,” Celestina said, stepping forward. Her resemblance to Nivea was striking, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.
“I… wow,” Nivea stammered. “This is really happening, isn’t it?”
Celestina offered a reassuring smile. “It is. But you won’t be alone. We’ll guide you through every step. You’d be helping us more than you realize.”
Nivea swallowed hard. “I’ll do my best.”
The next few days were grueling. Nivea underwent rigorous training, from speech lessons to posture correction. Celestina’s mannerisms were studied in detail, and Nivea practiced them endlessly under the watchful eyes of Dimitri and Liora.
“Shoulders back,” Dimitri corrected during a posture session. “Celestina always stands like she’s carrying the weight of the world—but with grace.”
“Great,” Nivea muttered. “No pressure, then.”
“You’re doing fine,” Liora said, smirking. “Better than fine, actually. You’re a natural.”
Nivea shot her a skeptical look but kept practicing.
The real test came during a mock event set up to mimic a press conference. Nivea stood at the podium, reciting one of Celestina’s speeches while staff members posed as reporters.
Halfway through, a member of the palace staff entered the room, his eyes widening as he saw Nivea.
“Madam President,” he said, bowing slightly.
Dimitri exchanged a glance with Celestina, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I think we’ve found our double,” he whispered.