The Realm of the Sun

A Time to Dance

           Una helped Eirainna step into an emerald ball gown adorned with threads of gold in a pattern of swirls and knots. With care, she guided the princess's arms into the delicate, silk sleeves. As Una laced up the back of her bodice, Eirainna's youngest sister rushed in, half-dressed and panting.

          "Oh, Raina, this is a travesty!" she cried.

          "Éile, if you continue to deem everything a travesty, you won't know what to do when something actually tragic happens," Eirainna laughed. Éile's cheeks were pink with both excitement and distress, her eyes always exhaustingly, almost laughably expressive.

          "Should I wear the pink or the yellow?" She held up both gowns with a face as grave as if she were choosing between poisons that would take her violently from the world.

          "I'm sure you will look lovely in either, dearest," Eirainna said, as Una linked the last hook on the back of her gown.

          "Oh, you're no help! I don't need you to tell me I am beautiful, Raina, I need you to tell me which will make me the most beautiful! I don't know why you're not taking this seriously—there are hundreds of handsome, eligible young men downstairs and you don't even care!" Éile stormed out, stomping her feet all the way down the stairs to the west corridor. Eirainna couldn't decide whether to laugh or sigh and what escaped her was a helpless combination of both.

          "Una, what am I to do with her? She's far too young for all these royal obligations. If my mother and father were alive, she would never be allowed to set foot at a ball."

          "I suppose you'll have to keep an eye on her, Milady. To keep her out of trouble," Una suggested, shaking her head with an amused smile.

          "It'll take an army to keep Éile out of trouble," Eirainna sighed, placing her dainty golden tiara atop her head. Una giggled as she finished tying up the dress.

          "You look beautiful, Milady," the frail maid gushed, as her radiant sovereign stood indifferently in the mirror.

          "Oh, Una, I don't need you to tell me I'm beautiful, I need you to tell me I'm the most beautiful!" Eirainna mocked her sister, in an exaggerated, high-pitched voice. Una giggled wildly, thrilled by the accuracy of the impression. There was a knock at the tall wooden door that still hung ajar from Éile's dramatic exit.

          "Yes?" Eirainna called.

          "Are you ready?" came Cillian's voice from the hallway.

          "Yes, you may come in, Cillian, I am dressed."

          "All of Ulster and Connaught are waiting for us, Raina, and you and Una are up here giggling." Though he was serious, he couldn't help but smile.

          "Forgive me for not wanting to race to be hounded and touched by the Taran knights...you would understand if they were all over you, Cillian."

          "I thank the spirits daily they are not." Cillian cleared his throat and Eirainna and Una continued to giggle.

          "Come, our cooperation is...more necessary than you might imagine," said Cillian, "It is a celebration, Eirainna, not the conference."

          "A celebration? Of what?" she asked as Una fussed with the sleeves of the dress she had made.

          "Of unity despite our differences." She moved her mahogany hair off her shoulders. It fell in long, loose ringlets down her back, revealing her ivory shoulders. Una made one last minute adjustment to an askew ribbon on the back of her bodice and stepped back from Eirainna with an artist's satisfied smile.