The Orb ignored him.
“I wish you weren’t so serious about things all the time. You’re a very stodgy companion.” The old man took another drink.
They were silent for a while, and Belgarath pulled off one of his boots, sighed and wriggled his toes contentedly.
“You really don’t understand any of this, do you, my friend?” he asked the Orb finally. “In spite of everything, you still have the soul of a stone. You understand hate and loyalty and unswerving commitment, but you can’t comprehend the more human feelings – compassion, friendship, love – love most of all, I think. It’s sort of a shame that you don’t understand, really, because those were the things that finally decided all this. They’ve been mixed up in it from the very beginning – but then you wouldn’t know about that, would you?”
The Orb continued to ignore him, its attention obviously elsewhere. “What are you concentrating on so hard?” the old man asked curiously.
The Orb, which had glowed with a bright blue radiance flickered again, and its blue became suddenly infused with a pale pink which steadily grew more and more pronounced until the stone was actually blushing.
Belgarath cast one twinkling glance in the general direction of the royal apartment. “Oh,” he said, understanding. Then he began to chuckle.
The Orb blushed even brighter.
Belgarath laughed, pulled his boot back on and rose unsteadily to his feet. “Perhaps you understand more than I thought you did,” he said to the stone. He drained the last few drops from his tankard. “I’d really like to stay and discuss it,” he said, “but I’ve run out of ale. I’m sure you’ll excuse me.”
Then he went back up the broad aisle.
When he reached the doorway, he stopped and cast one amused glance back at the still furiously blushing Orb. Then he chuckled again and went out, quietly closing the door behind him.