Elder Viper commanded, slamming the base of his staff against the stone floor. "During their stay, you will be polite, accommodating, and not engage them in unsanctioned duels. And above all else..."
The Elder's yellow eyes narrowed in slits.
"...you will absolutely, under no circumstances, mock, provoke, or disrespect the pretty boy in the red robes. Do not touch his cookware. Do not insult his fan. If he asks for ingredients, you will provide them. Am I understood?"
Senior Brother Kui's jaw tightened.
The blood-crazed pride of the elite rebelled against the warning. To be told to cower before a soft-looking chef was a humiliation he could not swallow.
"Understood, Elder," Kui lied smoothly, bowing his head to hide the rebellious, arrogant sneer forming on his lips.
Elder Viper looked at him. The old poison master had lived for four centuries. He could spot a lie from a mile away. He saw the hubris, the impending, unavoidable urge of the youths to "test" the visitors.
