It had gotten to the point where the room Solendenus had offered Kezrin was starting to feel like home. She felt a twinge of guilt at that, particularly when she thought about the goblin-sized furniture he’d arranged for her not too long ago, but staying at the Quel’thorin estate had its benefits. There was the obvious protection of the anti-demon wards, and the convenience of the salle when he had time to teach her (though in fact she hadn’t seen him in quite a while; he did have a tendency to disappear frequently), but it was probably the gardens she’d miss the most. The greenhouse had become her haven when she wanted a bit of peace and quiet.
Well. If she were truly honest, she’d also miss the pampering.
She’d forgotten what it was like to have someone else do all the cleaning, cooking, and housework. Kezrin found it easy to slip back into the habits of letting the household staff handle those things, and she really wasn’t looking forward to eating her own cooking again. So while there was the niggling feeling that she was taking advantage of Sol, she was more than willing to shove it aside and enjoy herself.
She was hiding in the corner of the greenhouse, reading a book from Sol’s library, when Sprocketquill’s voice over her hearthstone interrupted her solitude.
“Miss Kanzelry? Can you hear me?”
“Yeah… I can hear ya.” She flipped another page in the book.
“Hiya! There’s someone here from some magazine… the, ah, Inside Trade, I think, wantin’ ta talk ta ya.”
That got her complete attention. “Wait...the… it ain’t Silvertip, is it?”
“No, no. Some other fellow. Wants to do an article about being a goblin in the AAMS. Sounds like fun!”
“Uh.. right. Sure does. Why don’t ya get him in contact with that new gal, Sprikket? Or wait, how 'bout Borbitox? I’m sure Borbitox would love an interview.”
“He’s asking specifically for you.”
She looked around in panic, as if expecting someone to be watching her all the way in Eversong. “Just, uh, tell him I’m busy. Really busy. He’ll hafta talk ta someone else.”
A mental picture of a reporter talking to her sister appeared in her mind and she quickly added, “But not Myzzi! In fact, don’t even mention Myzzi!”
“Oh… all right, then. Anything else?”
“Yeah. If he asks for me anymore, let the bossgnome handle any questions, ‘kay?”
“Sure thing.”
Kezrin turned off her stone completely, not wanting anyone else to ask her questions. She rested her head on her knees, thoughtfully, the book forgotten at her side. She wasn’t going anywhere near Booty Bay until the reporter was gone.
Lounge night...crap.
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