The dining room was filled with a thick, suffocating silence as everyone processed Annabeth's accusation. Lord Flinn, Elsie, and the two guards all stared at the young girl in stunned disbelief.
"What?!" Lord Flinn finally blurted out, his voice filled with alarm.
"It's true, father," Annabeth replied, her voice steady but sharp. "The food she's trying to give you is poisoned."
She was nearly certain of it—at least 95 percent sure. There was no slow-acting poison that would leave the victim without symptoms until death. Annabeth had already witnessed the slow, agonizing deaths of many before, and this time, she was prepared.
Lady Elsie seemed momentarily paralyzed by the accusation, but she quickly regained her composure. Her years in the military had taught her to maintain a level of calm under pressure, and she wasn't about to let a child's baseless claim shake her.
"Annabeth, why would I poison the person I love?" Elsie asked, her voice calm and measured, though a hint of irritation flickered behind her words.
Annabeth couldn't figure out the motive. Lady Elsie had more than enough wealth and land of her own, far more than Lord Flinn's modest properties. The idea of her needing to take over everything didn't make sense, especially given how much she had inherited from her own father.
But Annabeth wasn't concerned with motives—she just needed to make sure her plan worked.
"Because you're a witch, and you want to kill us all!" Annabeth shot back. It wasn't a perfect explanation, but it was all she had. She couldn't afford to doubt herself now.
Elsie's expression shifted, but her voice remained cool. "Honey, trust me, I would never do anything to..."
"I know," Lord Flinn interrupted, his tone heavy with disappointment. He had hoped for a moment of peace between them, but now it seemed the tension had reached a breaking point.
"Annabeth," he continued, his voice edged with sadness, "I know you hate Lady Elsie, and you've made that clear from the very beginning. She's tried to be kind to you, and yet you've rejected her time and time again. But this time—"
"I'm telling the truth!" Annabeth tried to interrupt, her voice rising in frustration.
"Let me finish!" Flinn snapped, his patience finally breaking. He stood up, his expression stern and commanding. He was no longer the helpless father trying to keep the peace. He needed to assert control over this situation.
"This time, you've gone too far. To claim that someone as caring as Lady Elsie would poison my food is not only disrespectful, it's downright cruel," Flinn continued, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and disappointment. "What proof do you have that the food is poisoned?"
"I saw her do it," Annabeth replied, her gaze unwavering. It wasn't true, but she was willing to risk it. "If she really didn't poison it, then let her eat it. Her death will be the evidence you need."
Flinn was about to respond, but was cut off when Elsie gently placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch soft and reassuring.
"It's okay, love," she said, her voice warm yet tinged with sadness. "I'll eat. Let's not make this any worse."
Elsie turned to the servants, who were hovering in the background. "Have them prepare another meal for you, my dear," she said with a smile, though the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Besides, I'm hungry too."
Annabeth's heart pounded as Elsie confidently took a seat across from Flinn, smiling at him as she reached for the tray of food. The guards placed the plate in front of her, and Elsie immediately began adding gravy to her potatoes, as though nothing were amiss.
Annabeth watched in silence, holding her breath. If Elsie ate the food, she would die the same way her father had in her previous life. This was her final chance to stop it all.
Annabeth's mind raced as she processed what was happening. Lady Elsie, the woman she had accused of poisoning her father, was calmly sitting there, eating the very food that Annabeth had claimed would kill them all. A sense of unease crept up her spine. Was she wrong? Had she miscalculated everything?
The silence in the room was suffocating, the tension palpable. Annabeth was still waiting for the moment when Elsie would suddenly collapse or show signs of the poison taking effect, but nothing happened. Lady Elsie simply continued eating, her calm demeanor unsettling Annabeth further.
Lord Flinn's voice broke through the haze of confusion in her mind.
"Annabeth, Lady Elsie that you accused of poisoning my food has decided to eat it herself," he said, his tone firm and disapproving. "If the food isn't poisoned, what punishment do you think you deserve for making such baseless accusations?"
Annabeth opened her mouth, but no words came out. She had prepared herself for this moment, anticipating a confrontation, but now that the moment had arrived, she found herself unsure. Why was Elsie acting so confident? Was there something she didn't understand?
"I... I'll... I'll..." she stammered, her mind scrambling to make sense of the situation. The confidence in Elsie's actions made Annabeth wonder if she'd been wrong all along, or if the poison was not in the food at all.
Lord Flinn did not give her the time to fully process her confusion. "You will receive three lashings on your back, a week's detention from going outside, you will not be allowed to sit in your bedroom until it's time to sleep, and you'll have to be more respectful of Lady Elsie," he declared, his eyes filled with disappointment.
Annabeth flinched at the severity of his words. Her heart sank as she realized the extent of her mistake, but she couldn't back down now. Not when she was so sure of her suspicions.
"And you will from now on address Lady Elsie as mum," Flinn added, his voice unyielding.
Annabeth's frustration boiled over, and she shot back, her words laced with defiance. "Fine. IF she survives her own poison!"
***
Drienel, one of the newly employed guards, was stationed at his usual spot near the dining room entrance when the scene unfolded. He had been quietly observing the tension at the table, trying to make sense of the escalating drama. The accusation from the 6-year-old girl, Annabeth, had caught him off guard. He knew she was upset with Lady Elsie, but he had never expected her to claim such a thing—especially not that the food was poisoned. He'd dismissed it at first, assuming it was just childish nonsense.
When Lady Elsie, with surprising calmness, had agreed to eat the food herself, Drienel had thought the matter would be resolved once and for all. If the food was poisoned, it would affect her. If not, Annabeth's accusations would be exposed for what they were. Either way, his lord would be safe. It seemed so simple. But when the food was consumed, and minutes passed without any immediate signs of trouble, Drienel began to relax.
That was until the unimaginable happened.
Ten minutes later, Lord Flinn suddenly collapsed, clutching his stomach in agony, writhing on the floor. Drienel's heart raced, and his training kicked in immediately. He felt a chill run down his spine as he watched his lord in pain. Something was wrong—far beyond what he could have predicted.
The air in the room grew heavy as Drienel's mind raced to catch up with what had just occurred. Lady Elsie seemed untouched, as though the poison had no effect on her. Yet, here was Lord Flinn, in the grips of a terrifying pain that Drienel couldn't explain.
His hand moved quickly to activate his teleportation sequence, his breath shallow and his forehead drenched in cold sweat. He had to act fast, had to get help.
"What the hell is going on today?!" Drienel muttered under his breath, frustration and fear mixing in his chest.