They had finally arrived at the coast of the Castellon Continent of the Tarragona Empire after two weeks of relatively smooth sailing. The ship they were on slowly docked at the port. He and Edgar were standing on the dock with their luggage nestled by their feet.
Lior ran his hands over his outer wear as he readjusted the gold chains around his collar. His hands were steady while his mind was not. He would be meeting his fiancée and her family soon. This was a meeting he absolutely could not mess up. But did he learn enough about this empire's culture and language to not make a complete and utter fool of himself?
