Castle of Wizardry

Bralon, his eldest son, and rapped sharply on the stone floor with its butt three times. "Her Imperial Highness Ce'Nedra of the Tolnedran Empire," he announced in a deep, booming voice. "Will your Majesty grant her audience?"
    "I will receive the princess," Garion declared, straightening a bit on his throne.
    "The Princess Ce'Nedra may approach the throne," Brand proclaimed. Though his words were ritual formality, they had obviously been chosen with great care to make it absolutely clear that Imperial Tolnedra came to the Hall of the Rivan King as a suppliant. Ce'Nedra's eyes flashed fire, and Garion groaned inwardly. The little princess, however, glided to the appointed spot before the dais and curtsied regally. There was no submission in that gesture.
    "The Princess has permission to speak," Brand boomed. For a brief, irrational moment Garion wanted to strangle him.
    Ce'Nedra drew herself up, her face as cold as a winter sea. "Thus I, Ce'Nedra, daughter to Ran Borune XXIII and Princess of Imperial Tolnedra, present myself as required by treaty and law in the presence of His Majesty, Belgarion of Riva," she declared. "And thus has the Tolnedran Empire once more demonstrated her willingness to fulfill her obligations as set forth in the Accords of Vo Mimbre. Let other kingdoms witness Tolnedra's meticulous response and follow her example in meeting their obligations. I declare before these witnesses that I am an unmarried virgin of a suitable age. Will his Majesty consent to take me to wife?"
    Garion's reply had been carefully thought out. The quiet inner voice had suggested a way to head off years of marital discord. He rose to his feet and said, "I, Belgarion, King of Riva, hereby consent to take the Imperial Princess Ce'Nedra to be my wife and queen. I declare, moreover, that she will rule jointly by my side in Riva and wheresoever else the authority of our throne may extend."
    The gasp that rippled through the Hall was clearly audible, and Brand's face went absolutely white. The look Ce'Nedra gave Garion was quizzical, and her eyes softened slightly.
    "Your Majesty is too kind," she responded with a graceful little curtsy. Some of the edge had gone out of her voice, and she threw a quick sidelong glance at the spluttering Brand. 'Have I your Majesty's permission to withdraw?" she asked sweetly.
    "As your Highness wishes," Garion replied, sinking back down onto his throne. He was perspiring heavily.
    The princess curtsied again with a mischievous little twinkle in her eyes, then turned and left the Hall with her legionnaires drawn up in close order about her.
    As the great doors boomed shut behind her, an angry buzz ran through the crowd. The word "outrageous" seemed to be the most frequently repeated.
    "This is unheard of, your Majesty," Brand protested.
    "Not entirely," Garion replied defensively. "The throne of Arendia is held jointly by King Korodullin and Queen Mayaserana." He looked to Mandorallen, gleaming in his armor, with a mute appeal in his eyes.
    "His Majesty speaks truly, my Lord Brand," Mandorallen declared. "I assure thee that our kingdom suffers not from the lack of singularity upon the throne."
    "That's Arendia," Brand objected. "This is Riva. The situations are entirely different. No Alorn kingdom has ever been ruled by a woman."
    "It might not hurt to examine the possible advantages of the situation," King Rhodar suggested. "My own queen, for example, plays a somewhat more significant role in Drasnian affairs than custom strictly allows."
    With great difficulty Brand regained at least some of his composure. "May I withdraw, your Majesty?" he asked, his face still livid.
    "If you wish," Garion answered quietly. It wasn't going well. Brand's conservatism was the one stumbling block he hadn't considered.
    "It's an interesting notion, dear," Aunt Pol said quietly to him, "but don't you think it might have been better to consult with someone before you made it a public declaration?"
    "Won't it help to cement relations with the Tolnedrans?"
    "Quite possibly," she admitted. "I'm not saying that it's a bad idea, Garion; I just think it might have been better to warn a few people first. What are you laughing at?" she demanded of Belgarath, who was leaning against the throne convulsed with mirth.
    "The Bear-cult's going to have collective apoplexy," he chortled.
    Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh, dear," she said. "I'd forgotten about them."
    "They aren't going to like it very much, are they?" Garion