"David Eddings. Castle of wizardry enchanters' end game (The Belgariad, Part two)" - читать интересную книгу автора

them properly of course. No little girl enthusiasm this time. Instead, she
would be demure, reserved, imperial and altogether grown up. Naturally,
she would have to look the part.
She fretted for hours before selecting the perfect gown, a floor-length
Ulgo dress of glistening white. Ulgo gowns, however, were perhaps a trifle
too modest for Ce'Nedra's taste. While she wished to appear reserved, she
did not want to be that reserved. Thoughtfully, she removed the sleeves
from the gown and made a few modifications to the neckline. Some elaborate
cross-tying at bodice and waist with a slender gold sash accentuated
things a bit. Critically she examined the results of her efforts and found
them to her liking.
Then there was the problem of her hair. The loose, tumbled style she
had always worn would never do. It needed to be up, piled in a soft mass
of curls atop her head and then cascading elegantly down over one shoulder
to add that splash of color across the pristine whiteness of her bodice
that would set things off just right. She worked on it until her arms
ached from being raised over her head for so long. When she was finished,
she studied the entire effect of gown and hair and demurely regal
expression. It wasn't bad, she congratulated herself. Garion's eyes would
fall out when he saw her. The little princess exulted.
When the day finally arrived, Ce'Nedra, who had scarcely slept, sat
nervously with the Gorim in his nowfamiliar study. He was reading from a
long scroll, rolling the top with one hand while he unrolled the bottom
with another. As he read, the princess fidgeted, nibbling absently on a
lock.
"You seem restless today, child," he observed.
"It's just that I haven't seen him - them - for so long," she explained
quickly. "Are you sure I look all right'?" She had only asked the question
six or eight times that morning already.
"You're lovely, child," he assured her once again. She beamed at him.
A servingman came into the Gorim's study. "Your guests have arrived,
Holy One," he said with a respectful bow.
Ce'Nedra's heart began to pound.
"Shall we go greet them, child?" the Gorim suggested, laying aside his
scroll and rising to his feet.
Ce'Nedra resisted her impulse to spring from her chair and run out of
the room. With an iron grip she controlled herself. Instead, she walked at
the Gorim's side, silently repeating to herself, "Dignity. Reserve.
Imperially demure."
Her friends were travel-stained and weary-looking as they entered the
Gorim's cavern, and there were strangers with them whom Ce'Nedra did not
recognize. Her eyes however, sought out only one face.
He looked older than she remembered him. His face, which had always
been so serious, had a gravity to it now that had not been there before.
Things had obviously happened to him while he had been gone - important
things - and the princess felt a little pang at having been excluded from
such momentous events in his life.
And then her heart froze. Who was that great gangling girl at his side?
And why was he being so deferential to the big cow? Ce'Nedra's jaws
clenched as she glared across the calm waters of the lake at the