"...your Undercommon isn't too bad huh?" she commented, a bit offhand before continuing "Let me put it this way: you have had this dagger long enough to analyze what it's made of,<em>mis-translate</em>the Undercommon, and to cast divinations to determine that the last 'owner' was the woman who had it plunged through her chest and would have no need to make, own, or keep such a cheap knockoff and would certainly have had no need to put my family name on anything with any association to Llolth upon it.  It's been two weeks, and neither the Guard nor the Mage's collective with all their magics have gotten closer and - as you have said - the case is cold.  The only suspect you have is me, whom you say nobody thinks is the murderer, yet I'm apparently the suspect so you don't think I'm innocent... and yet aside from being 'disgruntled slave' you have no idea<em>why</em>after two decades of life with my mistress I would want to bring<em>any</em>sort of harm to her, do you?  Hell, you said yourself that it might be someone in the Academy, so why the<em>hell</em>should I be allowing the<em>Academy</em>to try and cover their own asses?!"<br/><br/>By the end her brow was furrowed, her eyes narrowed, and her stance strong and tall.  She was leaving this place with the dagger, no question about that.<br/><br/>"Tell me, what more will you actually do with the dagger besides hold onto it?" she asked, trying to calm herself again, be rational, not let it get the better of her again "Doublecheck the divinations?  Try to read the memories off the object?  Anything at all besides letting it sit here and waiting?"