Cassius Featherstonehof

The ballroom was bathed in candlelight. The Duke of the North, Cassius Featherstonehof, reigned supreme.

Today was the feast in honor of his upcoming wedding. The bride, a young countess, looked at herself in the mirror, her heart pounding with happiness. A maid helped her put on her shoes. The girl didn't notice the slight crunch as her foot slid into the slipper.

Cassius approached as the orchestra began to play a waltz.

"You are dazzling. May I?" He extended his hand.

They whirled around in a dance. At first, it was all a fairy tale, but with every step, tiny shards of glass dug deeper into her skin. She turned pale, but continued to smile—she couldn't show weakness.

Cassius sensed the falseness. Looking at her pale face, he suddenly lifted her easily into his arms and continued the dance. When the music died down, he carried her across the room and sat her down in a chair.

He dropped to one knee and removed his shoe. A scarlet stain was spreading across his stocking. He turned the shoe over, and shards of glass fell onto his palm.

An icy silence fell. Cassius rose slowly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please pay attention!" His voice was deafening. "Steel was put in my future wife's shoes. I consider this an attempt on my wife's life."

A sigh went through the hall.

"No one will leave here until the guilty party confesses. And if not," Cassius paused, "I will execute one person every ten minutes. Is that clear?"

The icy calm oozed an abyss of cruelty. The Countess looked at her fiancé and, for the first time, understood why he was called the Northern Duke.