"Occam's razor, then." She rubs her temples while the computer in her office. She wants to cry, but a Queen doesn't cry.
The computer starts and she plugs the flash drive to check the archives.
After a moment in silence, mulling over the information, she speaks:
"My husband will get treated for this starting today. And no matter how much he complains, it will be done. I also want all plates, cups, glasses analysed. But keep everything as secret as possible. If the one who's poisoning Ceiro doesn't know we know that will give us more opportunities to catch him."
Or her, who knows.
"Do we have a doctor we can trust?" With Itchy and Cataldo gone, the choices were scarce, if not non-existant. It was also a risky position, with all things considered.