Paul leans back in his chair, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes as the last of the day meets winds to a close. Already mentally preparing for the next rounds of negotiations with a few remaining rebellious Fremen leaders from the more northern regions for the following afternoon despite some having sent word they would be arriving before nightfall that evening.
"Husband?" Irulan asks from her seat at his side.
His blue within blue eyes looked past her out towards the sun-kissed desert as his lost Sihaya's words came back to him the longer he lost himself in the blue haze of what he could see of the opened desert.
"Arrakis is so beautiful when the sun is low."
"Paul?" Irulan tries again but it wasn't her voice he wanted to hear calling to him as the young emperor sat watching the dunes.
His attention rouses when he catches familiar footsteps pounding the floor towards them seconds before Gurney himself badges through the doors as the last of the summoned representatives of what remains of the great houses filed out of the room.
"We've found her." The old man announces, "seems she found safe harbor among those of Sietch Gara Kulon in the far north."
For the first time in months, Paul felt his heartbeat again, knowing his desert spring was alive and well even if she was still just out of his long-stretching reach until he noticed the guard set of his old weapons master's eyes. "What is it?"
Gurney's eyes flick toward Irulan, but Paul waves him off with a harsher "What is it, Gurneyman?"
"Our reports say your desert woman has taken another of these sand-hardened warriors as a companion. At least that's how they seem according to accounts," The older man confesses, cutting right to the point of the matter as always.
Instead of heart-stopping pain at the news, Paul finds himself experiencing a state of chilly acceptance. "Seems only right given how I've taken the Princess as my bride." He decides, not even sparing the woman herself a glance as he speaks of her. "What else do we know of this man?"
Gurney approaches holding out a small collection of information gathered for Paul's appraisal on this most urgent mission in tracking the whereabouts of his flighty desert woman. Still, he decides to summarize a few lines for Irulan's benefit "he is proving to be quite the warrior almost as good as you once were young pup when you were desert training so they say, his name is Otheym, he was raised from the high northern regains similar to those…." Gurney started to say but faltered at the glaring pain flickering in Paul's eyes at the news.
"aahhh you noticed that." The elder weapons master nods.
"How far along do they suspect?" Paul asks trying a failing miserably to keep the pain from his voice.
"A few moons at most." Gurney answers as Paul's eyes remain glued to the service-taken image of his desert spring tenderly cradling the slight rounding of her belly as she seemed to wander alone along a dune cresting.
"Do they suspect this Otheym to be father to….." Irulan starts to ask, putting the pieces together as to why her young husband looked so heartbroken at the moment.
"Unable to tell. He could be but some among her new tribe loyal to us whisper that she is just using this man as cover. That the babe she carries is Atreides sired."
"Worm sigh." Irulan interrupts, pointing out the window Paul had been gazing so lost out of a moment before.
Gurney's hands shifted first towards his sheathed knife, then lower towards his lenses as Paul moved closer to the window, hardly daring to hope.
"Chani." Paul whispers after a deep, inhaled breath of the swirling desert air, saying her name aloud during his waking hours for the first time since she'd stormed away from him several moons ago.
"Could be a trick." Gurney grunts, looking again through his lenses, but at this distance, all he can see is the sand wave signaling of an oncoming worm. "or a trap to draw you out."
"I don't care." Paul answers just as firm-toned. "No harm is to come to either of them. You understand me, Gurney man?" the young ruler orders. "Not one single shadow of harm." He repeats never once taking his eyes from the oncoming maker.
Gurney grits his teeth but gives a stiff nod of his head with a forced "Yes, m'lord" before he turns on his heels to stomp back out of the room to relay the message to the rest of the guards.