Emily leaned against the railing with Ezra, who explained what little geography she knew. They were headed towards Old Ashton to the North, which was part of the Dorastir Empire. To the south was the Troulorian Kingdom, both of whom were almost at war. Trade was still favorable despite that, which Lia took advantage of. North of Old Ashton was nothing but ocean until you reached a freezing continent of which there were only wild tales. East, along the coastline was Dorastir, the capital of the Dorastir Empire. Emily thought that might cause a fair bit of confusion.
Further east was the murky border between Dorastir and the independent city of Peham. Peham was secluded, Ezra told her. Most visitors were not allowed within the grand walls of the city, which Emily found odd. How could they survive without trade? Ezra simply shrugged at that. Magic.
Ezra walked around the ship, inspecting the sailor’s work. During her next round with Emily, she had to shoo off a handsy sailor who was pretending to tie knots around the sail. He was groping her exposed breast and tying knots in her stomach instead. Ezra simply banished him to the hold until he “starts to think with his head instead of his cock.”