The window remained open despite the cold while Beorn crossed to the desk. The map of the Badlands already lay open on the desk, brought up while the audience chamber had been prepared earlier in the day. Spring air drifted through the room, colder than stone should have felt this late in the season.
He pulled the map closer.
From his memory, Dunvarre's greatest concern had never been the protectorate. Every generation of its rulers had measured their strength against the Vauclair Empire on the eastern side of the continent, watching the border where wars had begun often enough to become tradition. Even in times of peace, that frontier demanded soldiers, supplies, and vigilance. No sensible ruler would weaken it to punish a rebellious border prince.
