The plan
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The air in the library grew heavy as the sisters and Leila gathered around the large oak table. Margaret had summoned Leila, and the cousin had arrived with a determined expression, clearly prepared for the gravity of the situation.
Leila took a seat next to Anya, brushing a stray curl from her face. "The court is restless. I heard whispers in the hallways this morning—rumors about shadows, about sacrifices. People are sensing something is wrong."
Margaret frowned. "Of course they are. The court is a nest of vultures. The slightest disturbance, and they're ready to feast."
Celia leaned forward, her fingers drumming against the table. "That makes this even more urgent. If the court discovers the truth before we've resolved this, they'll use it to tear us apart."
Anya looked to Margaret, her eyes pleading. "That's why we need a plan—one that doesn't involve losing you, Celia."
Margaret nodded slowly. "All right. Let's think this through. First, we need to understand the shadow's terms. What exactly does it want, and is there any way to fulfill the pact without… without the ultimate sacrifice?"
Leila spoke up, her voice calm but firm. "I've been researching the shadow's history. There are fragments of old texts in the east wing—forgotten records that speak of similar pacts in the past. In one case, the shadow was appeased without a life being taken."
Everyone turned to her, their expressions a mix of hope and disbelief.
"What do you mean?" Anya asked.
Leila opened a worn leather-bound book she had brought with her. "It's not common, but there's a precedent. The shadow's true purpose isn't death—it's power. It thrives on fear and submission. If we can find a way to meet its demands without sacrificing a person, it might accept the offering."
Celia frowned. "But what could we possibly offer that's worth as much as a life?"
Leila hesitated, then looked directly at Margaret. "The crown."
Margaret's eyes narrowed. "You're suggesting we offer the shadow the throne? That's absurd. It would destroy the kingdom."
"Not the throne itself," Leila clarified. "But something symbolic—an artifact, an heirloom tied to the crown's power. Something the shadow would see as a sufficient tribute."
Anya's heart raced as she processed the idea. "The Shadowstone," she whispered.
Margaret's head snapped toward her. "The Shadowstone? That's nothing more than a myth."
"It's not a myth," Leila interjected. "The records mention it—a stone forged from the shadow's own essence, locked away centuries ago because of its danger. If we could find it…"
Celia interrupted, her voice cautious. "If we could find it, how do we know it won't make things worse? The shadow might take the stone and still demand a life."
"We don't," Leila admitted. "But it's the only lead we have."
Margaret sighed, rubbing her temples. "So, let me get this straight. Our plan is to search for a mythical artifact, hope it still exists, and hope the shadow will accept it in place of Celia's life?"
"It's better than doing nothing," Anya said firmly. "And it's better than losing you, Celia."
Celia looked at her sisters and cousin, the weight of the decision clear in her eyes. "All right. We'll search for the Shadowstone. But we need to be discreet. If the court catches wind of this, they'll turn against us faster than the shadow ever could."
Margaret nodded. "Agreed. We'll need allies—trusted ones. And we'll need to keep the court distracted."
Leila smirked. "Leave the court to me. I've spent years navigating its politics. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's spinning a web of lies to keep them busy."
---
Meanwhile, in the grand hall of the palace, whispers were spreading like wildfire. Noblemen and women gathered in small clusters, their conversations hushed but urgent.
"Have you noticed the queen's absence lately?" one lord murmured.
"And the princesses—always in secret meetings," a lady added, her fan fluttering nervously.
"Mark my words," another voice chimed in. "Something is brewing, and it won't be long before the truth comes out."
In the shadows of the hall, a figure listened intently, their face obscured by a hood. The court wasn't the only one interested in the royal family's secrets.
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