““He tried to hide behind a bunch of feathers, but Nikulo stopped and glared at him. “Cowering already? You know you don’t have a chance of winning the Blood Dagger.” The Blood Dagger competition. Talis thought of the sparring competition held once a year and froze, realizing he’d forgotten all about it. Wasn’t it only a few days away? With Mara injured, they had already moved the date, but Talis knew that House Lei and House Storm would never allow Talis and Mara to forfeit to the likes of Nikulo and Rikar, his sparring partner. Claiming rights to hold the Blood Dagger for a year meant far too much to the royal houses, especially since their house had lost claim to the victor’s rights over the last few years. Nikulo’s coffee-brown eyes sparkled as if he were eager to tell a new joke. He waddled close to Talis, holding a porcelain jar in one hand. He yanked up silk pants that kept falling below his protruding belly. He scratched his curly hair and released a smoky fart, blowing the fumes in Talis' direction. Talis coughed, retreating quickly. Nikulo never should have swallowed that last potion he concocted. All his farts smelled like sulfur and spoiled onions. “Thanks for that, just what I needed.” Talis rubbed his stinging eyes. “What are you doing slumming in Fiskar’s Market? Finding more noxious ingredients for your potions?” Nikulo moved the jar away from Talis. “No… nothing of the sort.” He frowned and pursed his lips. “Why are you holding a feather?” “It’s””
