The scroll arrived by royal hawk—its talons bound in crimson thread.
Darshan unrolled it in the presence of his son. The letter was beautifully worded, as all threats from the crown were:
"You are hereby invited to present your innovations and vision for Navaleon at the Royal Symposium of Unity. His Radiance King Harilan IV humbly requests your insights."
Sharath read between the lines.
"This isn't a request," he murmured. "It's containment."
Darshan nodded. "They fear what they cannot control."
For hours, they debated. Should they comply? Resist? Could they negotiate without appearing defiant?
At last, Darshan made his decision.
"We go. But not as subjects. As stewards of the future."
He summoned the House scribes. Plans for transport, security, and presentation began. Sharath designed a presentation carriage—a mobile display unit showing cycle schematics, maps of trade efficiency, and case studies from across provinces.
They wouldn't just walk into the lion's den.
They would roll in on wheels the lion couldn't ignore