December 24, 1896
The White House had been transformed into a place of warmth and celebration, a stark contrast to the political battlefield it had been just days ago. Wreaths of pine and holly adorned the grand staircases, while the smell of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider filled the air. The grand Christmas tree in the East Room stood tall, decorated with golden ribbons, delicate glass ornaments, and candle-shaped lights that flickered like stars.
Despite the grandeur, President Matthew Hesh found himself unable to fully embrace the holiday spirit. The last few weeks had been relentless—exposing Bradford's conspiracy, dismantling a war that would have claimed thousands of lives, and now dealing with the fallout of political chaos that had consumed Washington. But tonight, he promised himself and, more importantly, Amber, that he would let it all go.
At least for one night.
A soft knock at the door of his study pulled him from his thoughts.
