"Everything will probably turn out all right," Lady Polgara assured her. "Trust me, Ce'Nedra. I've been handling matters like this for a very long time. Now go wash your face."
"I made a terrible fool of myself out there, didn't I?" Ce'Nedra said.
"It's nothing that can't be fixed," Polgara said calmly. "We can pass it off as something brought on by the excitement of seeing your friends again after so long. You are glad to see us, aren't you?"
"Oh, Lady Polgara," Ce'Nedra said, embracing her and laughing and crying at the same time.
After the ravages of Ce'Nedra's crying fit had been repaired, they rejoined the others in the Gorim's familiar study.
"Are you recovered, my child?" the Gorim asked her gently, concern written all over his dear old face.
"Just a touch of nerves, Holy One," Lady Polgara reassured him. "Our princess, as you've probably noticed, is somewhat high-strung."
"I'm so sorry that I ran off like that," Ce'Nedra apologized to Adara. "It was silly of me."
"Your Highness could never be silly," Adara told her.
Ce'Nedra lifted her chin. "Oh yes I can," she declared. "I've got as much right to make a fool of myself in public as anyone else."
Adara laughed, and the entire incident was smoothed over.
There was still, however, a problem. Ce'Nedra had, she realized, gone perhaps a bit too far in her impulsive declaration of undying hatred for Garion. His expression was confused, even a trifle hurt. Ce'Nedra decided somewhat loftily to ignore the injury she had inflicted upon him. She had suffered through that dreadful scene on the shore of the Gorim's island, and it seemed only fair that he should suffer a little as well - not too much, of course, but a little anyway. He did, after all, have it coming. She allowed him a suitable period of anguish - at least she hoped it was anguish - then spoke to him warmly, even fondly, as if those spiteful words had never passed her lips. His expression became even more baffled, and then she turned the full force of her most winsome smile on him, noting with great satisfaction its devastating effect. After that she ignored him.
While Belgarath and Lady Polgara were recounting the events of their harrowing journey to Rak Cthol, the princess sat demurely beside Adara on a bench, half listening, but for the most part turning the amazing discovery of the past hour over and over in her mind. Suddenly, she felt eyes on her, and she looked up quickly. The little blond boy Lady Polgara called Errand was watching her, his small face very serious. There was something about his eyes. With a sudden and absolute certainty, she knew that the child was looking directly into her heart. He smiled at her then; without knowing why, she felt a sudden overwhelming surge of joy at his smile. He walked toward her, still smiling, and his little hand dipped into the pouch at his waist. He took out a round, gray stone and offered it to her. "Errand?" he said. For an instant Ce'Nedra seemed to see a faint blue flicker deep within the stone.
"Don't touch it, Ce'Nedra," Lady Polgara told her in a tone that made Ce'Nedra's hand freeze in the very act of reaching for the stone. "Durnik!" Lady Polgara said to the smith with an odd note of complaint in her voice.
"Mistress Pol," he said helplessly, "I don't know what else to do. No matter how I seal it up, he always manages to get it open."
"Make him put it away," she told him with just a hint of exasperation.
Durnik went to the little boy, knelt and took hold of the pouch. Without a word he held it open, and the child dropped the stone into it. Durnik tied the pouch shut, pulling the knots as tight as he could. When he had finished, the little boy put his arms affectionately around the smith's neck. Durnik looked a bit embarrassed and was about to lead the child away, but Errand pulled his hand free and climbed instead into Ce'Nedra's lap. Quite seriously he kissed her, then nestled down in her arms and promptly fell asleep.
Feelings moved in Ce'Nedra that she had never felt before. Without knowing why, she was happier than she had ever been in her life. She held the child close against her, her arms protectively about him and her cheek laid snugly against his pale blond curls. She felt an impulse to rock him and perhaps to croon a very soft lullaby to him.
"We'll have to hurry," Belgarath was saying to the Gorim. "Even with Relg's help, it will take a week or more to reach the Sendarian border. Then we'll have to cross the whole country, and the snow in Sendaria can pile up in a hurry this time of year. To make things even worse, this is the season for storms in the Sea of the Winds, and it's a long way over open water from Sendar to Riva."
The word "Riva" jerked Ce'Nedra out of her reverie. From the very moment that she and Jeebers had crept from the Imperial Palace at Tol Honeth, one single thought had dominated her thinking. She was not going to Riva. Though she might have seemed on occasion to have surrendered on that point, her acquiescence had always been a subterfuge. Now, however, she would have to take a stand. The reasons for her adamant refusal to obey the provisions of the Accords of Vo Mimbre were no longer entirely clear to her. So much had happened that she was not even the same person, but one thing was absolutely certain no matter who she was. She was not going to Riva. It was a matter of principle.
"I'm sure that once we reach Sendaria, I'll be able to make my way to an Imperial garrison," she said as casually as if the matter had already been decided.
"And why would you want to do that, dear?" Lady Polgara asked her.
"As I said earlier, I'm not going to Riva," Ce'Nedra replied. "The legionnaires will be able to make arrangements to return me to Tol Honeth."
"Perhaps you should visit your father," Polgara said quite calmly.
"You mean you're just going to let me go?"
"I didn't say that. I'm sure we'll be able to find a ship bound for Tol Honeth sometime in the late spring or early summer. Rivan commerce with the Empire is extensive."
"I don't think you fully understand me, Lady Polgara. I said that I'm not going to go to Riva - under any circumstances."
"I heard you, Ce'Nedra. You're wrong, however. You are going to Riva. You have an appointment there, remember?"
"I won't go!" Ce'Nedra's voice went up an octave or two.
"Yes, you will." Polgara's voice was deceptively calm, but there was a hint of steel in it.
"I absolutely refuse," the princess declared. She was about to say more, but a small finger gently brushed her lips. The sleepy child in her arms raised his hand to touch her mouth. She moved her head irntably. "I've told you all before that I will not submit to-" The child touched her lips again. His eyes were drowsy as he looked up at her, but his gaze was calm and reassuring. Ce'Nedra forgot what she had been saying. "I am not going to the Isle of the Winds," she concluded rather lamely, "and that's final." The trouble was that it didn't sound all that final.