You suspect Shef!

"Madam Welthie," you drop your voice, "I think the person behind the theft might be Shef."

"Why, whatever do you mean, Detective Flowers? Shef is so highly loyal!" She says. "Would she really...do such a thing?"

"Yes, I do think so. She said something about-" You go quiet as Shef enters the dining hall.

"I've outdone myself this time! It's not every day you can serve the world's second best consulting detective."

You nervously twirl a shiny, delicate fork in your hands upon hearing Shef's excitement. There was a bitter undertone in her voice. Or maybe you imagined it.

The dishes are put on the table, and you and Lady Welthie begin to eat in almost utter silence asides from Musik's discordant piano. The food is nice, definitely nicer than you've ever had.

"Wow," you say. "This is splendid." Your hands are shaking, and you drop your fork.

You look up at Lady Welthie and her face is pale with shock. She screams as beads of sweat drop down your forehead and your vision begins to blur.

"What happened?" Lady Welthie shrieks.

You slip down your chair, a piercing pain in your head and a burning in your throat. You look through darkening vision only to see Shef.

Shef looks down at you. Her expression bears no malice.

"Why would you say that? I'd never serve something I didn't make myself."

Poison. The vial of poison you found under the table wasn't Shef. She probably wasn't even the thief.

I've been poisoned, you think. Your throat burns to much to say it out loud.

"IT WAS YOU?" Lady Welthie stands up so fast that her chair falls over.

Your hearbeat rings in your ears.

"That wasn't me! I've got no reason to steal."

"THEN WHO WAS IT?"

Your vision goes black.