“Not exactly. The younger sister enjoyed offering hospitality. She enjoyed making choices that pleased her father’s guests. It is for this reason she was better loved, if not better trusted; most believed that she was simply the more socially adept of the two. This was true,” he added. “But she enjoyed the duties she undertook.

“As oldest, Azoria should have stepped into that role; she did not. She considered it irrelevant, and left it to her sister. Her younger sister felt Azoria was an unappreciated genius, and that she herself had little of value to the family. She supported and adored Azoria.”

“Yet Azoria killed her.”

“It was an accident; it was not intended. But as you’ve surmised, there was some resentment, some misunderstanding. Azoria felt she was doing everything in her power to strengthen Berranin. Everything. Her younger sister—”

“What was her name?” Kaylin asked.

“Leyalyn. Is it important?”

“I just wanted to know. Sorry for interrupting you.”

“Very well. Leyalyn, to Azoria’s mind, was worth far less, could offer far less, to advance the power of Berranin—and yet, in the end, it was Leyalyn who was adored. Azoria did not hate her sister, but could not untangle the envy. It is not uncommon. Leyalyn herself believed it would be Azoria who raised her family’s profile, Azoria who shone the most brightly. She never questioned it. She was not maneuvering for affection—it was simply given her because of her interests and her generosity.

“Leyalyn’s father wished for a daughter to become Consort. He thought Leyalyn could—but if she could, that would mean that no genius, no work, would ever allow Azoria to claim what she felt was rightfully hers. Azoria understood the needs of Berranin as a whole; she did not understand what the Lake required, but very, very few did.

“You could tell Barrani what the Lake requires; most would not believe it, regardless. Follow me.”

Barrani rooms often lacked interior doors, but an exception had clearly been made; there were sturdy doors here. “These are Azoria’s personal chambers.” He gestured at the doors; they were not heavily engraved, as the first doors had been.

“No. The magics here are very simple, and much more easily disentangled. The changes to the entry doors were done quite late.”

The doors rolled open in silence.

Kaylin stepped through them into a short hall. Straight ahead was an arch, but it was at the center point of a T-junction. The arch revealed a room of light and air; beyond it an arch opened—without doors—onto a balcony beyond which was a garden beneath a cloudless sky. Kaylin shook her head. “Not here.”

“No.” The Avatar then pointed to the left.

To the left, a single door was partially open as if someone had forgotten to close it when they left the room. Kaylin approached this unwarded door and pushed it wide open.