"You know what I mean, Adara - all those buxom blondes with their braids and their milk-maid complexions."

"Isn't it a little early to be getting ready?" Garion asked. "Grandfather said that we weren't going to take the Orb to the throne room until noon."

"That's not really that far off, Garion," Aunt Pol told him, biting a thread and stepping back to look critically at Ce'Nedra's dress. "What do you think, Layla?"

"She looks just like a princess, Pol," Queen Layla gushed.

"She is a princess, Layla," Aunt Pol reminded the plump little queen. 'Then she turned to Garion. "Get some breakfast and have someone show you the way to the baths," she instructed. "They're in the cellars under the west wing. After you've bathed, you'll need a shave. Try not to cut yourself. I don't want you bleeding all over your good clothes."

"Do I have to wear all that?"

She gave him a look that immediately answered that question - as well as several others he might have asked.

"I'll go find Silk," he agreed quickly. "He'll know where the baths are."

"Do that," she told him quite firmly. "And don't get lost. When the time comes, I want you to be ready."

Garion nodded and left. Her words had somehow strangely echoed the words of his dream, and he wondered about that as he went looking for Silk.

The little man was lounging in the company of the others in a large, torch-lighted room in the west wing. The kings were there, with Brand, Belgarath and Garion's other friends. They were breakfasting on cakes and hot spiced wine.

"Where did you go this morning?" Lelldorin asked him. "You were gone when I woke up."

"I couldn't sleep any more," Garion replied.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Why should you lose sleep just because I'm having a restless night?" Garion could see that they were deep in a discussion, and he sat down quietly to wait for the opportunity to speak to Silk.