Castle of Wizardry

she said with a mysterious little smile. Then she patted his cheek gently. "And I'm going to do everything I can to keep it that way. Shall we go in? We really shouldn't keep our guests waiting, you know."
    "That's what I said in the first place."
    "We were busy then," she declared with a certain grand indifference. "Just a moment." She carefully smoothed his hair. "There. That's better. Now give me your arm."
    Garion extended his arm, and his princess laid her hand on it. Then he opened the door to the third chorus from the trumpets. They entered the Hall, and an excited buzz ran through the crowd assembled there. Taking his cue from Ce'Nedra, Garion moved at a stately pace, his face sober and regal-looking.
    "Not quite so grim," she whispered. "Smile just a little - and nod occasionally. It's the thing to do."
    "If you say so," he replied. "I really don't know too much about this sort of thing."
    "You'll be just fine," she assured him.
    Smiling and nodding to the spectators, the royal couple passed through the Hall to the chair that had been placed near the front for the princess. Garion held the chair for her, then bowed and mounted the dais to his throne. As always happened, the Orb of Aldur began to glow as soon as he sat down. This time, however, it seemed to have a faint pink cast to it.
    The official betrothal ceremony began with a rolling invocation delivered in a thunderous voice by the High Priest of Belar. Grodeg took full advantage of the dramatics of the situation.
    "Tiresome old windbag, isn't he?" Belgarath murmured from his accustomed place at the right of the throne.
    "What were you and Ce'Nedra doing in there?" Aunt Pol asked Garion.
    "Nothing," Garion replied, blushing furiously.
    "Really? And it took you all that time? How extraordinary."
    Grodeg had begun reading the first clauses of the betrothal agreement. To Garion they sounded like pure gibberish. At various points Grodeg stopped his reading to look sternly at Garion.
    "Does His Majesty, Belgarion of Riva, agree to this?" he demanded each time.
    "I do," Garion replied.
    "Does Her Highness Ce'Nedra of the Tolnedran Empire agree to this?" Grodeg asked the princess.
    Ce'Nedra responded in a clear voice, "I do."
    "How are you two getting along?" Belgarath asked, ignoring the droning voice of the clergyman.
    "Who knows?" Garion answered helplessly. "I can't tell from one minute to the next what she's going to do."
    "That's the way it's supposed to be," Aunt Pol told him.
    "I don't suppose you'd consider explaining that."
    "No, dear," she replied with a smile as mysterious as Ce'Nedra's had been.
    "I didn't really think so," he grumbled.
    Garion thought about Ce'Nedra's rather open invitation to muss her during the interminable reading of the document which was firmly nailing down the remainder of his life, and the more he thought about it, the more he found the notion of a bit of polite mussing attractive. He rather hoped that the princess would linger after the ceremony and that they might go someplace private to discuss it. Following Grodeg's pompous benediction, however, Ce'Nedra was immediately surrounded by all the younger girls in the court and swept away for some private celebration of their own. From all the giggling and wicked little glances cast in his direction, he concluded that the conversation at their little get-together was going to be very frank, probably naughty, and that the less he knew about it the better.
    As Silk and Barak had predicted, the High Priest of Belar tried several times to speak to Garion privately. Each time, however, Garion put on a great show of ingenuousness and sent immediately for Belgarath. Grodeg left the island with his entire retinue the following day. To add a final insult to the whole matter, Garion insisted that he and Belgarath accompany the fuming ecclesiast to his ship to see him off - and to be certain that no Bear-cultist might inadvertently be left behind.
    "Whose idea was all of this?" Belgarath inquired as he and Garion climbed the steps back to the Citadel.
    "Silk and I worked it out," Garion replied smugly.
    "I might have known."
    "I thought things went quite well," Garion congratulated himself.
    "You've made yourself a dangerous enemy, you know."
    "We can handle him."
    "You're getting to be very free with that 'we,' Garion," Belgarath said disapprovingly.
    "We're all in this together, aren't we, Grandfather?"
    Belgarath looked at him helplessly for a moment and then began to laugh.
    In