Day 311: Loose lips

What has become of Miss Billingbrox? You may well wonder. Voltan too has had reason to ask this question, as Zane's reports have become increasingly vague of late. Voltan suspects Zane wishes to dissemble the extent of his relationship with the girl.

Last night Voltan adjudged the time had come to observe an interaction between the pair. Voltan spied from a shady nook as Zane delivered Miss Billingbrox's evening meal, and witnessed the following exchange:

Zane (henceforth, Z): I managed to get you some potted pork to go with your gruel.

Miss Billingbrox (henceforth, B): Potted pork?

Z: Yeh, s'what he eats on Mondays.

B: But today's Wednesday...

Z: Sometimes he likes it cold on a Tuesday.

B: [Inaudible] weird. Why does he insist on eating such bizarre food?

Z: Dunno, maybe it's, like, because he's from somewhere foreign.

B: Where's he from?

Z: Dunno... not here. I know that.

B: But where's here?

Z: Dunno, really. Like, near Scotland maybe, I think.

B: But that can't be right, I... Never mind. Listen, Zane, you're such a sweetheart.

Z: [Inaudible, but the tone suggested pleasure.]

B: No really, and so brave too, getting me food and the pencils and everything.

Z: I'd do anything for you, Bibi.

B: I know Zane, that's why I wanted to ask you: do you think you could get the key to this door?

Voltan had heard enough. The casual exchange of confidential information vexed Voltan most sorely. Granted, it was tempered somewhat by Zane's stupidity (Scotland! Ha!) but he was clearly bewitched by the girl. Voltan retired to the comfort of the map room, partly in order to block access to the key cabinet and partly to plan what to do about Zane.

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