The Last Page: Episode 02

Ein wakes with a start, her heart racing and her breath coming in gasps. The nightmare won’t release its grip on her mind, and the figure standing over her is a monster, not her sister. She tries to shake off the fear, tries to re-orient herself in the present. 

“Good morning, Ein. I have news from the palace,” Dierdre says, her voice as sweet as the songbirds outside. She holds out a perfumed envelope.

Ein stifles a groan and rolls onto her pillow, burying her face. Ever since she learned of her engagement to Prince Lochlann, such letters fill her with dread. “Tell me what it says.”

“The prince will host a ball in one month!” Dierdre claps her hands, and when the sound of breaking glass echoes in the room, Ein does not have to guess that her over-excited sister is the cause. “Oh! Ein! You must look stunning. The wedding is only five months away. We need to go shopping!”

“No, I do not need more gowns.” Ein sits up slowly and leans back against the plush headboard of her bed, the fear mixing with the wave of dizziness. Once, she found joy in balls. They provided so many examples of human interactions, so many nuggets of ideas for potential stories. Now they feel like gilded cages, reminders of the life closing in around her. And now her ability to stand on her feet for long periods of time is deteriorating at an alarming rate. She doubts she can dance for long. She wishes to lose herself in books, to live a thousand lives through ink and parchment. If she cannot go on adventures herself, she can make sure all her heroines can do the things that she cannot do anymore.

But her fate is sealed. She will marry Lochlann and become a princess bound by duty and propriety and hope that the royal physicians can cure whatever ails her before rumors spread of the sickly princess and she is locked away.

“Fine, you might not need a new gown. But I do! Come with me, Ein.”

“You don’t need a new gown; you just think that Lady Claire might be there today.”

“So? Please? I need your support. Please come with me.”

“Yes, we can go shopping,” she tells Dierdre, managing a faint smile. 

Dierdre leaps and claps her hands, knocking over another vase. “Oh, not again… I am so sorry!”

“It is fine. First, I need to go on my morning ride.”

“No, first, you must eat and have plenty of tea,” Dierdre says. “You are so concerned about finding the cause of this illness, yet you do nothing to manage the symptoms.”

“Managing the symptoms means letting it win. It means accepting limitation, accepting it as fact and I cannot do that. I am going riding. I will eat breakfast when I get back. You know that I hate riding on a full stomach.”

Ein ignores the rest of her sister’s pleas and slips out of the mansion without running into anyone else who might slow her down.

She guides her horse down the winding path, ruminating on the news. A ball, and so soon before the wedding. But why? Lochlann does not enjoy balls himself, but he attends them and wears a dazzling smile the entire time. The few times he has hosted one personally, they were planned months in advance, not weeks. 

They have not spoken in three weeks, not since that day at the library. Does it have something to do with Ciara? Is there a visiting noble from another country she has not heard about? 

She hopes it is not related to their wedding, where they will be expected to play the part of lovebirds, even if they both agree privately that they are not.

Love and romance are the stuff of her books and dreams, not her reality. With a sigh, Ein turns her horse back toward home, the mansion coming into view as she emerges from the woods. Her father Niall stands near the rose bushes, pruning shears on the ground next to him. He waves as Ein approaches, grinning and holding out a crimson rose toward her. 

She pulls her horse to a halt; her breath grows short, dots swimming before her eyes. The reins slip from her fingers as the ground rushes up to meet her. Then, darkness. 

Voices swirl around her as Ein regains wisps of consciousness. Strong arms cradle her, and her father’s face hovers over her, forehead wrinkled with worry as he carries her inside, calling for the doctor. And then silence and darkness again.

Awakening again, now in the parlor, she is disoriented, her head heavy and throbbing. “Míde, she’s awake,” her father calls out to Ein’s mother.

“Oh, Ein, thank the heavens you are alright,” her mother says.

Ein manages a smile. “I’m fine, truly.” But she knows that she is far from fine. This attack came without warning. There had been no tingling in her hands, no drop in her stomach, no race of her heart or hearing her pulse in her head. Just dots, and then nothing. 

Usually, she uses those early warnings to get herself to the ground until the dizziness fades. She usually has time to make sure she doesn’t plummet. But this time, she fell from her horse. 

For the first time, she allows herself to put words to her fear; this ailment may kill her.

“We’ve sent for the doctor just to be safe," her father says.

Ein shakes her head. “No need. I promise I’m alright. I just need some rest. And perhaps some breakfast,” she says, not looking at Dierdre. "I am sorry to worry you.”

Her mother reaches out to brush a lock of hair from Ein’s face. “We can’t help but worry when you are not well.” 

“You’ve been having these episodes far too often lately," her father says." You need to take better care of yourself. You know you should not go out without breakfast.” 

“I need to go shopping with Dierdre, but I promise I will eat plenty before we leave.”

“No, we can go another day. You need to rest,” Dierdre says.

Ein wants to protest, but her sister crosses her arms. “Fine. I will go back to my room and do some writing.” 

Her parents exchange glances before her father nods reluctantly. “If you need anything, do not hesitate to call for us.” 

“I will be fine, I promise.” Ein makes her way back to her room, her steps slow and deliberate, hoping they cannot see her wobble.