Celestina sat in the nursery, rocking Arden gently as her mother, Isolde, sat across from her with a determined look. The soft glow of the evening sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm light on the room. But Celestina’s heart was cold.
“I can’t do it, Mother,” she said, her voice low but firm. “I can’t invite him here after everything he’s done.”
Isolde leaned forward, her expression calm but her eyes serious. “You have to think about Arden, not yourself.”
Celestina scoffed. “Arden will have all the love she needs from me. She doesn’t need a father who abandoned us the moment things got hard.”
Isolde shook her head. “You’re not being fair.”
Celestina’s tone sharpened. “Fair? He chose her, Mother. He chose the doppelgänger over me. He betrayed me.”
For a moment, Isolde’s lips tightened, her gaze softening with a mixture of pain and understanding. “And your father chose other women over me,” she said quietly. “But that didn’t make me want to take you from him. No matter what he did to me, I couldn’t let that hurt destroy the bond you had with him. You deserved to know your father, even if he didn’t deserve us.”
Celestina opened her mouth to argue but closed it again. The weight of her mother’s words settled heavily on her chest.
Later that evening, Isolde joined Celestina in the library, carrying a tray with two cups of tea. She placed it on the table and sat beside her daughter, her demeanor softening.
“Do you know what hurt the most about your father sending me away?” Isolde asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Celestina glanced at her, surprised by the sudden shift. “What?”
“It wasn’t the betrayal,” Isolde said, her eyes filling with tears. “It was being separated from you. Watching you grow up from a distance, never able to hold you, never able to tell you how much I loved you. That was the worst punishment of all.”
“Mother…” Celestina began, but her voice cracked.
Isolde placed a hand over hers. “Don’t do to Dimitri what Alvada did to me. Don’t let Arden grow up without knowing her father, no matter how much he’s hurt you. It’s not about him—it’s about her.”
Celestina looked down, tears stinging her eyes. She didn’t want to admit it, but her mother was right. Arden deserved better than to inherit her parents’ grudges.
The next morning, Celestina stood by the nursery window, watching the palace gardens below. Isolde’s words echoed in her mind, and with a deep breath, she made her decision.
“I’ll do it,” she said aloud, though no one was there to hear her.
When Isolde entered a few minutes later, she noticed the determined look on her daughter’s face.
“You’ve decided,” Isolde said, her tone knowing.
Celestina nodded. “I’ll invite Dimitri. For Arden.”
Isolde smiled gently and embraced her. “You won’t regret this. I promise.”
The palace buzzed with activity as preparations for Arden’s grand welcoming party began. Celestina watched from the sidelines as staff bustled about, setting up decorations and finalizing the guest list.
“I’m trusting you with this, Mother,” Celestina said as Isolde inspected floral arrangements.
“You won’t be disappointed,” Isolde replied with a wink. “I’ll make sure this is an event the nation will never forget.”
Though Celestina nodded, a gnawing unease settled in her chest. She couldn’t shake the feeling that inviting Dimitri might reopen wounds she wasn’t ready to face.
That evening, Celestina sat at her desk, a blank invitation card in front of her. Writing Dimitri’s name felt like admitting to the part of her heart that still longed for him—a part she wanted to bury.
After several attempts, she finally crafted the words and sealed the envelope. “For Arden,” she whispered, placing the letter in the outgoing mail pile.
Two days later, a response arrived. Celestina stared at the letter in her hands, hesitant to open it. Isolde, standing nearby, encouraged her.
“Go on,” her mother said softly.
Celestina broke the seal and read Dimitri’s message:
“Thank you for thinking of me. I’ll be there. For you both.”