“I’m just trying to get a sense of what not meant to exist in my world actually means. It’s clearly not a matter of judgment or there wouldn’t be Ferals. The Shadows that come from Ravellon are clearly part of my world—the entirety of the fiefs were created to cage them. The Academia clearly exists in my world—but it can’t be properly mapped as part of the fiefs because it somehow exists beside or on top of...every other fief.

“Releasing the Academia—allowing people like me to reach it—didn’t release anything so dangerous it would be best if it remained trapped the way it was.” She folded her arms.

The former Arkon rolled his eyes.

“I mean it,” Kaylin said. “I need some clear sense of exactly what the danger is.”

“You recall the Devourer?”

She stiffened.

“He entered this world, consuming everything on his path between this world and the worlds he destroyed utterly.”

“But nothing we did called him here. Nothing we did would have changed his path.”

“That is not true,” Killian said.

Severn wasn’t entirely happy, although none of the unhappiness showed in either his posture or his expression. She wondered, then, if she would have noticed it without the unusual name bond that mortals didn’t, in theory, have the ability to share.

“It is.”

“No, it isn’t. You chose not to make the attempt because you were concerned about the fate of the Norranir; if the Norranir were to remain homeless and isolated, it is likely the Devourer would have remained safely outside of our borders. And yes, Severn is concerned; this is not a topic that has come up, and the stray thoughts that you constantly—constantly—have, should not, in his opinion, have touched upon the subject. But as you ask for a possible risk, I feel compelled to speak of that one.”

“But it worked out.” Her arms tightened.

“Yes. And it has caused some permanent harm to your relationship with the Barrani Consort.” Killian didn’t need to sigh, although his expression would have otherwise accompanied one. “Let me examine something that is closer to your literal home.”

“Go ahead.”

Killian turned to Serralyn. “You were trapped in the Hallionne Alsanis for centuries.”

Serralyn’s eyes were now the regular Barrani blue. She nodded.

“Tell me, what might you have done had someone thought to immediately unlock the Hallionne’s doors?”

Serralyn shrugged.

“Would you have perhaps visited your home and the family that sent you to the green to be influenced by the ceremonial regalia hoping for power for their line? Would you have let it be known that being thrown away had consequences?”

“That’s enough—” Kaylin said, stepping toward Killian.

The chancellor growled; she froze in place.