The message didn't disappear.
Adrian stared at it long after the screen dimmed, long after Mira had stopped pacing the length of her room like a caged storm.
Your mother tried to stop this once. Your father finished it.
Mira finally broke the silence.
"That's not a threat," she said slowly. "That's an invitation."
Adrian nodded. "Or a warning."
He turned the phone over in his hands like it might explain itself if he held it long enough.
"My mother doesn't talk about the council," he added. "She never has."
Mira raised a brow. "That alone is suspicious."
The summons arrived the next morning.
Not from the Headmaster.
Not from the council.
From the palace.
A royal seal, pressed into cream-colored paper, delivered by a courier who looked like he'd been trained to breathe quietly.
Adrian read it once.
Then again.
"They want me home," he said.
Mira crossed her arms. "That sounds familiar."
"This time," he continued, "they specifically asked for you."
