Disaster in the Castle

The Duke paced back and forth in the tiny room, his arms crossed over his chest and his head bent down. One moment he walked with eyes closed, the next with one hand over his face, incessantly pacing with agitated steps and mind racing with apprehension.

A young man emerged from the other room, his body cloaked in a robe of brocaded blue. His hands and clothes stained red.

“Good heavens, man! What happened?”

“It’s over, my Lord, it’s all over.” He held a reddened knife to his master.

“What is over?”

“The wine, my Lord, it’s all been spilled.”