XXVIII: It Is Better This Way

The Baron entered the Great Hall with open arms. A smile on his face shivered down my spine. I stepped aside from Feyd, out of his path but he was in mine. I refused to let my eyes leave him for a moment.

A ripple coursed my belly. Its sharp pain ascended, hot and burning. I fought every ounce of it back down, away from sensation. I kept my flesh calm under the eye of this horrid monster.

His emergence made my body ill.

The whirring hissing air was the noise his machine made while it kept him levitating above the ground. He was a ghostly haunting of what demons lurked in shadows unchecked.

My throat swallowed the building sick. My hands dropped away from my pregnant body. If I did not make it obvious, perhaps he'd remain ignorant of it.

Feyd stepped in front of me as he approached his uncle. "Uncle. What are you doing here? The spice is secure. I've located the seitch just this evening. We make ready for the attack as we speak."

Seeing them so nearer brought the pain harder. I despised my eyes. What they saw sickened and repulsed me.

A monster of vicious appetites whom had broken Feyd's humanity away, taken his flesh, and replaced it with a monster's skin of his own making.

The Baron shook his head. "When there is honor of my na-Baron, I must pay my respects. There is a festival to celebrate you. I could not miss that."

How did he discover us here? Why now? Why did he emerge when we'd nearly done what needed to be done for Feyd's plan.

Did he detect the deception?

The crinkle in the corner of his eye read like fondness. A true expression at the look of his nephew's face.

Did he hunger for Feyd's body?

My heart shattered. He could. If he wanted, the Baron could demand Feyd's presence in his bed chambers. There was nothing in my power that could keep Feyd from the perversion that happened there. No choice, he would have to leave me.

All to be touched by those clubbed, sickly fingers.

"Yes," Feyd said swift. "I've been honored by your charge."

"You have done well here. But that is not all I hear. You have help," the Baron stated. "Your witch."

The Baron's eyes lifted from Feyd's face to find mine several yards behind them.

A ripple subtly moved Feyd's spine.

In his hand was the blade of his forefathers.

Kill him. Kill him now. There was no better time.

"She is an asset to the campaign," Feyd declared.

A pale hand motioned me toward them both. Feyd kept his back to me, a blockade to the expanse of the Baron's appearance.

My chin stayed level with the floor as I walked. Ice encapsulated my body. It was not thick, but frail. Fury burned inside my chest that battled for control. Emotion dropped away from my features. A sore forgotten skill that took more effort to find that I cared to admit.

I did not want this man near Feyd. Even the way he looked at him made me sick. The longing desire in his haunted eyes curled my stomach but enraged my temper.

Feyd was not his to lust after. No longer was my Feyd a toy for this disgusting man.

"This festival was your idea, witch?" The Baron asked.

I nodded. "Yes, Baron."

"You honor my nephew with a celebration."

My jaw ached when I was forced to loosen it to talk with him. "Yes, Baron. There is much honor he deserves. A credit to his name, Baron."

"I cannot wait to see how you honor him," the Baron said. "Let us see if you are as invaluable as he says you are." His hands waved at me like he would a servant in his employ. "Continue," he declared.

The Baron levitated into the throne I'd fitted for Feyd. He dishonored the entire castle by taking that seat. This party was not made for him. It did not want his disgusting figure to take place in that throne when it was made for Feyd.

I motioned to the women to continue their work. Feyd slipped his gift back in the box. He leaned close to Yulyushek's ear. He whispered a short moment before he turned around.

He forced a show of a smile, for the Baron's benefit. He was not pleased.

It broke me in two.

A chair was pushed forward at us. The staff were so accustomed to us sharing a place that it did not occur to offer another seat. I gulped. My hands were slick with my own anxieties. Sweat was commonplace on Arrakis; that was nothing new. Only, the rate at which it seeped was quick like the pumping of my heart. The only sensation stronger was the ripping waves throughout my lower body.

Feyd took his seat. "Come, sweetness. Show me what you have planned."

I took the noble position astride his knee, as the crowning prize. One arm of his lazily wrapped around my side and settled in my in front of the Baron, this was a statement I did not feel comfortable making.

My eyes stared straight at the circle of women who encircled their chosen sacrificial animals around the built fire. Memory of the display slipped from my mind. My eyes did not see the slaughter, bloodletting, butchering of the animals. Fear blunted my eyes to my mind. It knew the icy taste throughout my blood. My veins burned with each thudding pump.

"Was this your doing?" Feyd asked through his curled smirk.

It was staggering how well he adapted to the moment. The feign expressions of joy had me second guess everything I experienced with him on planet.

"No," I murmured. "I would never bring him here."

So close to you.

Feyd fluttered his hand. A goblet slipped into his hand from a bowing servant. His lips licked around the rim. The smirk remained permanently fixed in the corner of his mouth.

I leaned back against his shoulder. He stole a gaze over my shoulder at the high seat before he looked back at the fire.

"Someone turned rat."

"Lord Bondar?" I whispered. My eyes flashed to my right side where just a few rows down sat that very lord with his family, entranced by the slaughter as everyone else was. "He was on the advisory board that helped me plan this. I had to redistribute water allowances so that he could convince the nobility to attend."

"Too bold," Feyd murmured back.

"He sent his daughter to seduce you in your own bed. That's awful bold."

"A lazy plan," Feyd hissed. "A woman. The simplest way to woo me."

"Woo?"

"He wanted my favor, not my vengeance. No. Bondar would not act like this. Someone else. Someone, subtle with dislike of me." He quieted as the women began to pile their slaughtered animal parts around the open fire. "You told them to do this?" He asked after many fascinated moments of awe.

The cinch against my lungs knotted tighter. My heart throttled at my ribs like a cage of impenetrable metal.

The Baron was here. My party was ruined by his very invitation.

I couldn't focus upon my own honoring of Feyd because that monster sat in the same room as us.

"I wanted something glorious, worthy of a na-Baron, without human bloodshed," I mumbled. "Something that excited you."

"I like it."

I forced a frustrated groan to die in the back of my throat. "You'll like it better when they serve the meat to you."

Feyd put on an act much like he was in the past. A man whom I recalled from my time in the Baron's castle.

Each howl of his throat sank deeper and deeper into my bones. I felt the very pain of losing the man I loved before my own eyes. Whether it was real or fake, I could not determine. It did not matter. My heart felt the betrayal as severe against me.

My body burned. Its pain reached around and squeezed me like the pulsating of a breath, every laugh or joyful delight he shared with the rest of his monsters, squeezed it tighter.

Old habits were harder to summon.

The revitalization of my emotions made them impossible to surrender again.

The ice did not come.

"I bet it was that fuckin doctor. He has dislike of me," Feyd said.

"He only cares to preserve the life of your heir."

He leaned forward and muttered against my ear. "Our heir."

My eyes shot him a hard look as he leaned back against his seat.

The meat was cooked minimally. Rare red meat was sliced thin and served amongst the party. Feyd was gifted the raw organs that he seemed to enjoy. His knife sliced through the paper-thin liver. It slid through his lips with a smile. I watched with disgust bottled at the back of my throat when a small smirk showed to his uncle. He lifted his goblet in cheers.

The Baron repeated the action. Eyes then turned to me. The uncle offered his cheers to me. My water glass was blindly found - after much grasping around the table for it - and hoisted in a small cheers back. The depth of his eyes peered deeper than my skin. I felt pierced with frigid fear. Everything that was horrid in the universe was buried inside that man. I felt the only black poison stabbing at my soul.

"Sweetness." Feyd said so suddenly that I jolted his lap.

My eyes snapped to his. "What?"

The whole of his high table stared at me.

"You have good taste," Feyd said. He lifted his fork toward my lips. "An acquired taste for Harkonnens now. Eat."

I was not given the option. He pushed the meat within my mouth.

The entire table watched me chew the meat, trying not to vomit at the cool squish of the uncooked meat.

Feyd leaned forward and bit my earlobe slight. "Smile harder. You are not convincing any here."

It was made impossible for me to reply. He pulled away too soon.

He merely watched in wait, as they all did, for me to swallow.

My stomach clenched harder again. The skin of my stomach felt as if it was being ripped at its seam.

The corners of my mouth managed to curl up before I swallowed. "It's a bit chewy," I declared.

The whole table laughed, amused by me. Amused by their toy.

All at the emergence of a single person, I was demoted back to who I was in the beginning of my life: a body bound to death for the amusement of others.

I played my part well enough that the social hour, before the duels began, I was released to chitter amongst the people of the court away from Feyd's control. Not that I was thrilled to lie through my teeth, the sensation of Feyd's touch sickened me.

What I'd become under his charge, all the fears I had when our sanctuary of Arrakis was broke, resented my mind. I could not force away the taste of tangy copper atop my tongue. Endless goblets refused to lift the taste.

Each swallow thickened my sick.

"The hostess hides in a corner."

Harun stood in his best robes. They were a rich red that brushed the floor as he walked. His dark beard was trimmed short, close to jaw to highlight the sharp edge it had. He slicked back his wavy dark hair, so it shined even under the dim lights.

"Faheem Harun," I said without my disbelief too thick in my tone. "You received my invitation."

His hand went flat against his chest. "Desert blessed it was. Our last parting was not on good terms."

"I fell ill," I lied. "It was not you."

"You have recovered well, I see." He gestured toward me.

His sorrowful eyes spoke more direct than his words.

Confirmation of what he'd told me. My pregnant stomach showed through my dress, an impossibility to not understand.

If you knew how to look.

"I have."

Our eyes turned to the hurried excitement of the crowded festival. Feyd enjoyed the additional tithes given in his honor. One lord had joked about gifting him their daughter. It was enough to convince me to stay away. I only had slight control of myself, and with the Baron present, I was borrowing all the control I could just to keep from stabbing him myself.

"The fireworks outside were a beautiful gift," Harun offered with a smile. It reminded me of more than my own moment. There was detail in every aspect of the night. I'd taken care to consider them all. Now, I recalled very few in my distress. "My people do not have such, frivolous things for celebration. They will cherish the memory of them."

A true smile lifted my otherwise resigned face. "I am glad."

"You show true care for the people here." He turned his eyes toward the crowd. "Not many do."

"This is the closest to home I know," I revealed.

The chuckles of the court filled the room. Their delights were obvious, loud. All my hard work paid off.

It sank the dagger of the Baron's appearance deeper in my chest. The poison of his wickedness spread faster than I ever imagined. It ruined all the joy I'd held so excitedly in my heart, for Feyd, for his time to be who he could be.

"It was said that the Atredies boy was like you. They say, he, too, embraced the people of this planet as home."

I swallowed. "You said to me that they slaughtered him and his mother…" His brow flexed curiously. "The lord na-Baron has said they escaped. Which is true?"

Harun stepped forward, with a deepening interest. "We have only been told of death in that night. You say, you say they live?"

"I do not know. It is only what I've heard."

"If the boy lives…" he thought a moment. "No. The desert kills outsiders. They do not survive."

I swallowed. The dry air of the desert caught at the back of my throat.

"What if he did?"

The man shook his head. "The gods do not grant life to those unaware in the desert."

"If he truly was this prophet as you said, if he did survive the desert, what would that mean?" My eyes glanced at the pale Baron astride his manufactured throne. "The na-Baron is dear to me. I would stand by him in the face of the future. I'd like to know what that future may hold."

Harun restrained his expression to one of placid compliance. He held his breath, perhaps considering whether the truth was something I was worthy of knowing.

"I do not know," he finally revealed. "The Fremen. Their ways are hard. Much like the ones you live with. Living is fighting, and it is something they know well." He tilted his head up as he spoke now. The dark of his eyes focused ahead on the hanging gossamer fabric draped across the ceiling. "Fremen have reason to hate. Hate, they do. I fear they will not see you separate from the lords they seek to destroy."

The thick tension swallowed down into my stomach.

That was fair.

We all deserved to be consumed in the fires for what was done here. Many things I knew, and the horrors I was spared from knowing.

"I do not hate the Fremen for what they must do," I said. "I only wished to know if there was anything that could be done to save the lord na-Baron."

"You may try to appeal to them." He put his hand on my shoulder. "I fear it will fall on deaf ears. You are strangers in this land."

"We will meet a fate together," I said. It did not hurt my heart as it should have. It would be right to cry, beg, to try to avoid death. At least I would meet death with Feyd. We'd be freed of the chains of our own suffering. "That is not so bad."

"There is time, my lady." His touch dropped away from me. "Flee. Leave this place."

I shook my head. "There is no place to run, Harun. Na-Baron will not abandon his charge."

"You. You may run. You may live."

My face fell. There was no place in the universe that mattered if Feyd was not there.

"He and I die together," I said firmly.

Harun made a swift exit not long after. He dared not rattle the na-Baron's fury as he so often did.

Then came my time to socialize as I was expected to. I mimicked a grin like the monsters wore. My body was thrust into their circles. Every chuckle out of my throat was a hollow shell of an emotion I now knew, far away from that moment.

Congratulations were handed over with thick envy. Still, I accepted it with greed.

I could endure their jealousy, seeing as they made me feel all sorts of awful things. They deserved a few pushed back to them.

At the completion of another conversation of a group of despicable people, I'd stepped away to seek out a respite for a drink. The ache in my stomach was constant. Water helped ease its throbbing.

My back turned and I came face to face with the young lady Bondar. A quick breath expelled from my lungs. Motya was startled too. Her eyes went to the floor when I caught her eye.

"My lady," she greeted.

Her body dipped to acknowledge my title.

"Good evening, Lady Motya. Enjoying yourself?"

My heart beat harder. Being so near her summoned the insecurity I felt when we'd last privately met. I'd threatened to kill embraced in a monster's anger, I nearly broke a piece of myself in the process. If I killed at will, my captors were not much different than I.

"You are a fine hostess," she answered.

When she finally found her courage, her eyes met mine. It did not simmer the moment. Emotions of our past encounters revived. They filled my body with anger tipped hurt.

"I had- I had no idea," she murmured. "Lord na-Baron's chambers would have never been on my mind if I had known."

My hands fell to my stomach. "Known?" I feigned.

Color filled her pale cheeks. She shifted. "You hold the na-Baron's child. I-I would not be the one to lay with a man who expected child with another."

"Your father convinced you just to lay with one who loved another."

She exhaled through her nose. A wrinkle appeared in the center of her nose. "I did what was expected of me. My position in court is not secure. It is the way this works. If it was not me, it would be another." Her eyes darted around for search of prying ears. She stepped close. "Still. I do not revel in what I did. It is not how I wish to act. Look around." I allowed my eyes to drift to sights I knew well enough. "How can I survive in this life without partaking in the horrible? No one in this place may be clean. It is the rule of the court. Unspoken, but true."

My own fingers were turned black with the poison I'd consumed in my time with the Harkonnens. She, the very reminder of what filth I'd allowed to pass through me.

I swallowed. "How. How do you become secure here?" I glanced at my shoulder where just a short distance away was her father, chatting. Her dark eyes followed my vision. They froze upon her father's outline in the crowd. "You are the daughter of a mighty influential lord."

"My father had no sons. His finest work yet," she murmured. "He needs me to find a place that lends his reach further. Another finger within his hand."

"Na-Baron being the first choice," fell from my mouth with a touch of spite.

"I have to do well in marriage, or they'll think him weak."

"Weak?" I repeated. "Surely not weak."

"Na-Baron shielded you from this back home. You were in the Baron's court, were you not?"

"I was a guest at Feyd's request. Not by any of my own standing. I was invisible then. One of his toys."

The woman stirred. Her shoulders twitched. "Yes. The pets. I remember them," she said hollowly.

My pulse was out of control. It throttled with fury inside my chest.

The harem was something I'd put out of my mind long ago. Mention of them brought back revulsion. Not just for Feyd. But myself.

"They say he cried as he slaughtered them," Motya revealed under her breath. My skin turned ice cold. Even the pains in my body stopped their motions. "Why cry if you want their deaths?"

"Cry?" I repeated.

She nodded slowly, uncertain of my tone. "I did not believe he knew how to. He's slain so many. But it was said from the one who cleaned up the bodies. They heard him."

I did not believe it.

Feyd did not cry.

He was strong and resilient. There was not a depth to emotion that I'd seen him capable of.

He did not remember pain. He did not know sadness.

Bad was good, just the same as good was.

"It is better this way," she said.

I went numb.

"What?"

"That is what he cried. 'It is better this way'."

No. No.

Those words.

"They all know," I asked quietly.

Motya gave a confused look. "No one has said so. It would earn them death."

I forced my body to calm down. The weight of the evening was weighing heavier and heavier upon my emotions, building the bad ones up so much higher than before.

I'd forgotten the truth of Feyd.

I'd blinded in the Arrakis sun, true reality.

My eyes blinked back tears.

"I will only be secure when I make a match worthy of my title. There are few choices here. So few boys survive here."

Sickness bottled at the back of my throat.

They all knew why their boys did not survive. And why they wished for girls.

It wasn't for Feyd's hand.

It was to avoid the Barons.

My eyes flicked up to the singular throne chair sat above us all. His lordship reigned down with sickening pleasure. He enjoyed the sprawl of deviancy before him.

I held onto my stomach growing sicker with each passing moment. Even the pain in my stomach felt through my body. It rippled and waved, like the tides of incoming storms.

"You know the ones closest to na-Baron," Motya stated slow.

It was a struggle to pull my eyes from the Baron toward her. Question lingering in my pain.

What was she getting at?

"You need allies," Motya said. "There are not many to trust."

"You tried to fuck Feyd," I snipped. "You would not have my trust either."

Motya lowered her voice, stepping closer still. "I trust my intention. You know what I want. I need a marriage. There must be something you want too. An ally, a spy. This court does not spare those ignorant of its own practices."

My eyes narrowed. "You're asking to be my friend then?"

"A lady in waiting," she corrected. "Most ladies of the high courts have them. It is a desired position for the lesser titled women. To serve the lady and keep her company. It may be as you wish. I can serve you or we can associate as ambassadors to our own cause."

I could not think straight.

He loved them? He cried for them?

It is better this way.

Almost like he had to remind himself of their death to feel an ounce of love for me. Those were in his lips in so many memories I held dear, before I drifted to sleep with the slow beating of my heart. His arms wrapped around me and memories of his love, helped me calm enough to sleep.

My thoughts fluttered and fragmented to nothing. The welling of my emotions was all I comprehended.

My eyes sought for sight of Feyd through the crowd. He was so proud to be given all the attention of the room. His smile actually curled into his cheek with that small show of his dark teeth. Yet another person threw themselves to his favor with a gift, a tithe.

Had all we had done together been a lie? Was I the one being fooled by his manipulation once more?

"Alright. I will be in alliance with you as long as I feel you are honest." I spoke through measured breaths. A softening came to her features. Her head nodded. "Do not cross me."

Motya agreed. "Yes, Lady Mintha."

"Have others been sent to him as you were? Have you heard of any attempts?"

Her lips frowned. "None have dared try. We are out of power here on this planet. Their lives are held more dear because they may be spilt with ease." Her eyes flicked up toward the dais. "He is known to be unstable in his best times. Few girls are brave enough."

"You fear?" I asked in disbelief.

"We are away from our lands, our money, our powers in our home world. Here. Here is an untamed place where things happen. None seek justice. None would come."

A surge ran through the crowd within their words. Excitement. Their mouths spoke louder.

Motya and I scanned around us.

"What is it?" I asked.

There was a shuffling through the gates. Motya stood taller than I. Her chin lifted high to view over the heads of the many. "The start of the duels."

Feyd's voice boomed over the crowds. "Sport! I call for sport."

It was an unquenchable, delirious, blood thirty howl from his throat.

It was not the man I knew.

"Challenge. Who will challenge me?" His voice flowed over the crowd.

None were demented enough to ask for death at Feyd's hand. They knew his prowess. With a blade? It was certain death.

"No one?" Boomed around the great hall.

His voice was a haunted nightmare.

"Will none honor my nephew at his own celebration?" The Baron declared.

"Step up!" Feyd shouted.

The feral undercurrent of his voice shook me.

He was monster once more.

I struggled through the oceans of people gathering close. My body fought me. It clenched and groaned and shivered and rippled with pain like wind through the sands. Arrakis pulled me away. It did not want me apart of these monsters.

The very sands of my body, grains embedded in its tissues from the endless trickle on Arrakis air, turned to hot coal with every step nearer that demented throne, and its untamed heir.