XXXI: Precipice
We were given leave to awaken the barracks for the mission. Feyd led me along. The sand was difficult to walk through after the arduous night I'd had.
The bleeding stopped. Only a faint smear of lingering blood stained against my skin. The pain ceased late in the night. The slight ache in my back showed proof that I was no longer the same.
There was a change that was noted. Feyd discarded his one rule from earlier. Rest was no longer an option for me. I was expected to be a part of his leadership as he'd proclaimed to his uncle. Also, the Baron believed me to tame the captain, so somehow, I'd have to magically become a witch to control that foul man.
The silence between us was thick with unspoken tension.
Feyd kept my arm pinched in his, even as his long quick strides through the sand were impossible for me to keep up with. I was given no reprieve.
I heaved heavy breaths when he once again had to stop for me to catch my breath. "What, happened… to my resting?" I asked unable to keep air within my lungs.
I'd lost a child in the late hours of the night. Feyd almost killed the doctor in fear.
Now my health did not matter when his honor was on the line.
"Motya was turned away because I was too weak, yet this is an appropriate activity?"
He spoke through gritted teeth. His eyes scanned the castle behind us. "You are not leaving my sight."
"Why?" I breathed. "I didn't do anything wrong."
I'd not tried to kill the Baron. I'd been too disgusted with him being near Feyd to seek a weapon. His requirement of me was still met. I'd not broken my word.
"The response. It was not right." Feyd spoke low. The words did not float in the winds. It did not drift behind our backs to even alert the guards. "He's up to something."
I leaned closer, breathing deeper. "What?"
"His questions were probing. If he suspects I'm attached to you-."
"Then I definitely should not be here!" I exclaimed once I'd understood his implication. The Baron could separate us. Or worse, hurt Feyd. "It will convince him."
He resumed the trek out toward the barracks. It pulled me alongside.
"It will not matter. If you are not out of my sight, what he wants to do will not matter. It won't happen. I won't let it."
The mantra was not for me.
It was for him.
The taut cage around my heart cinched all the bleeding pain that surrounded his vulnerable pain, its source, and how it affected his every waking moment.
This animal of mine, my mate of pelt and scent, was under threat. I could not stand idle. Cold fear of being parted from him did not trump the distinct instinct to protect the one who mattered most.
"Feyd, if your safety is at risk-."
"Don't." He growled. It echoed against the empty castle grounds.
He jolted our bodies to a stop. Warm sands reached through my simple sandals into the muscles of my lower legs. It felt its comfort attempt to penetrate me. Gentle heat of the sand carried through with each breath. The taste of grit atop my tongue, like a memory, there to placate the quaking temperament of it. If there was sensation it knew, it would not stutter the fear from inside.
Muscles in Feyd's jaw twitched. They tensed as he gritted his teeth. His eyes refused to meet mine. The coal black looked out in the dim distance of nearing last light.
Deep red with rich orange filtered the sky on the farthest reaches of air. Flecks of gold shimmer shined like mirages in the horizon.
The desert's temptation of all the riches it promised.
"You are the only good. The only person I've…felt. No. Your safety is as paramount as my own. With him, there is no safety. Except with me."
My hand touched his neck. It was all he allowed me to reach. "Our safety will be nonexistent if you do not get the spice."
"Exactly. Which is why you are going on this mission rather than resting in bed and growing our daughter in comfort."
That statement was a bitter fury that I knew better than to tempt.
We brushed the atmosphere of the barracks. The thick scent of the many bodies inside was familiar to me now. The humidity of the sweat and tang of blood in the air greeted my nostrils like a fond friend.
Sounds throughout the complex were still. A few wandering patrols were the only motion I noticed.
"Maybe we should consider a bodyguard," I poised in a mutter as we marched toward the small office of the captain.
"No."
"You can't drag me everywhere," I whispered. "One day. I'll slow you down."
"I'll drag you through scorched lands and meadow without stop. Do not say what I am capable of."
Captain Rurik's door marked the end of a corridor. It greeted my eye. I let argument die on the air.
We needed a strong front toward everyone including Feyd's most trusted soldiers. The captain despised me because I was not a loyal subject. Possibly because I was not Harkonnen. There was no room for discontent. The Baron brought enough of that with him. If he disliked Feyd's personal choice to lead his mission, he likely disliked most of the outfit Feyd controlled. The stress of all our necks was within the Baron's grasp.
A singular feeling that filled the atmosphere.
Captain Rurik was sleepy eyed when he opened the door. Feyd's command allowed us entrance inside. The haze of early morning blurred the captain's one good eye. It was the only explanation for the lack of disgusted sneer as I passed inside his personal rooms.
"It is time," Feyd said.
"The men are not -."
"The Baron commands this be done. Now."
Although he did not show it, Feyd was exhausted. He had not slept much. The prior night had kept his emotions riled high. The want to kill something just to relieve the fear he felt when he thought I was in danger was enough to send him on a rampage.
The only stay of his hand was me. He spared me the sight of his monstrosity, I believed.
"I'll have the sergeants wake them." The captain bowed his head. "Excuse me, na-Baron."
He left Feyd and I alone.
I swallowed. "Why did you tell your uncle that I'd tamed the captain? You know that isn't true."
"He watches his tongue."
"That was you who did that to the captain. Not I," I replied. "If the Baron suspects that it isn't true, he'll know that you lied about me. That will not help things. If you want him to be ignorant of our connection -."
Feyd straightened suddenly. "Ignorance will not work."
"It won't?"
"No. I thought of it and he will know it is a lie. If you are here, he knows. You carry my heir. He will not overlook that." He shook his head. "Our connection is already too strong. He will see through it."
I touched Feyd's arm gently. "He only sees you. If you act like you do not care for me, it may convince him I am a pastime."
Feyd scowled. "I do not how to do that."
"Yes, you do. You can be that na-Baron you were when we first came here. You had no problem then."
"I already loved you for years then," Feyd uttered. "Here. It is done. I see you as mine. There is no other thought on my mind more than you." The brush of his eyes against my cheek heated my face. "The look of other men at your face makes me want to push up your dress and prove just who you want in the middle of a room. No. He knows." He shook his head. "My only choice is to keep you close."
We were attached at the hip every moment.
It was impossible to be closer than that.
My mind struggled through the backlog of emotions that needed processing. So much battled me. I knew better than to linger. I kept afloat above their looming spiral. Each one, haunted and devastating.
Feyd needed me more than my emotions did. I had to keep calm.
"You have changed. Feyd. He knows that. But he does not know why. He has not seen it."
My words did well enough to pause his emotions. He stared at my face as I, myself, formed the ideas together.
"This fief was an honorable placement for a na-Baron. You want to uphold that honor by doing what is expected," I rambled. "Show him that you are changed because of the responsibility. You are focused on the challenges of the job. You do not party. You do not booze. There is no harem draped all over you. There is duty. There is honor. Show him. Show him the Baron you will become. This change is because you are have matured. He will believe it because I do."
He tilted his head. A clinking through his mind, like plans further latched into place.
This was what his mind did better than any. He plotted. He seethed and schemed. It was not my realm, but his, that understood the course we needed to follow.
Feyd ran his thumb along my bottom lip.
"Sweetness. You prove more and more that you are a lady worthy of my loyalty." A twinkle caught his eyes. A slip of a smile pulled the corner of his mouth. "Plots sound better out of your mouth."
"I can assure you that they are better thought out from yours."
Stray ends of my hair caught at the sides of my face. Their tickles frustrated me. I ran my hand through the length. It was largely ignored and messy. The thickness caught against my fingers. I winced and withdrew my fingers.
He replaced the fingers. They tore through the ends. Not with ragged brutality, but with gentle pressure building at my scalp. It brought my eyes wide as the sudden sharp pain then became relieved like a splash of water down my skin.
His eyes stared on, fascinated. "The only good."
"I belong to no other, Feyd-Rautha."
A groan rumbled from within him. It vibrated my palms against his chest. "There will be a time, when it is only us, that I can enjoy you the way you should be. When I sit on a throne with none against us. Our bloodline secured." He took a long inhale of my exhale. His face closer to mine. "How I dream of those days. Alone. With you."
"You will defeat him, Feyd." I murmured. His finger ran along my lips even as I spoke. The gaze transfixed upon them did not tear away. "You'll be free of all this darkness."
Though the barracks were kept cold and dark with the stench of mildew, the sun's last heat radiated from our chests. Feyd and I were fire. We light fires inside each other that sweltered in all other places, except here. Here, they grew to insatiable heights.
Hands slid from my face down to my throat. Long monstrous fingers teased the sensitive thin flesh until they dipped further between my breasts.
My breath caught. His eyes flicked to mine.
He pulled his ring up by the chain. The banded metal was simple. The dark of his eyes lightened as he beheld it in his hand. Finally, he broke the chain away from my neck.
My hands trembled at my sides. His fingers ran along my arm guiding it up. He placed my hand vertically. It showed off the backside of my hand and fingers.
Feyd's ring slid down the length of my middle finger. He put it there himself.
Without sound, word, breath, our palms pressed together and laced our fingers into a singular fist. My ring clinked against his silver ring. It was rather plain and simple for him. But it matched the simplicity of the one he'd given me.
Words failed me. I had no understanding of what should be said.
Neither did he.
Slow, a smile turned my face. I smiled as the warmth of his hand radiated from that ring on my finger. It climbed my forearm. Splinters of delightful fire struck all throughout my body.
The ice of the Harkonnen venom lessened. Its stronghold weakened against Feyd's own connection to me.
Feyd reflected a smile. He raised our hands to his mouth. A playful bite against my wrist illicit my surprised yelp.
A catlike smile of pleasure toyed his mouth like a flirtation.
The captain entered a moment's breath later. He made no remark or expression at our joined hands.
Feyd's punishment worked wonders on the captain's attitude.
"They are making the ready as we speak," the captain relayed.
"The Baron's given us a warship," Feyd said. "Have them equipped and ready in it. It will dispatch us to the coordinates we tracked them to yesterday."
"My men will be glad to destroy this seitch for you, na-Baron. Put my boots on the ground. I will bring them to you."
A coy smirk grew upon Feyd's mouth. Glistening black teeth showed.
He took an unexpected turn toward me. "Sweetness. How did you say I should deal with rats?"
Ice thrust into the muscle of my heart. Still, it did not stop beating. It continued on. Blasted pump, warm blood against the icy disgust stabbed inside its tissue.
Those many weeks ago - was it only months? It was not yet years? - en route to Arrakis, I'd been posed that question. His first invitation for my input on his fief duties.
I'd been stricken with shock. The answer only came to me from the display of burning spice harvesters in the dunes.
"Burn them," I replied.
His eyes danced across my face. Amusement, excitement inside him now.
The thrill of pending violence was a reaction like the natural shift of day to night. He embraced it. Delighted at its reveal.
Hungry dark eyes inspected my exposed flesh the soft curves of my lips down to the rapid breath expanding my chest.
The captains tucked his chin against his chest. He ignored us without an inkling of his disgust.
"No need, Captain Rurik. The warships munitions will melt the rock. They will come to us," Feyd breathed a menacing breath. The taste of it changed the air of the room. A preamble to the monster emergence. "As rats flee their nest. We will set it alight above their heads."
We departed the captain's rooms with the captain trailing behind. Though Feyd's long stride and building anticipation propelled him faster than felt good for my still recovering body, I began to loosen my hold on his hand. It left me a step behind, then three, until finally my pace met that of the captains.
I kept my eyes level ahead. A spare acknowledgment would not cast his way. He did not deserve it. Nor should he care.
His duty was to Feyd's mission. His duty was to the na-Baron.
The men formed ranks in the main open space at the front of the barracks, where the sandy arena sat, now filled with the rhythmic stomping of many men. Feyd's paced quickened. He was at the front of the ranks inspecting the rows while the captain and I still had yet to breech the main air.
A quiet mumble came from the captain's throat.
"What's that?" I instinctively asked, though I should have ignored it. From him.
"I was wrong about you, Lady Mintha."
The floor stopped moving beneath my feet. The world ceased around me.
I spun around. "Captain?"
His face stiffened. He struggled to keep his snarled anger in place upon his face. There was slippage of rage from the edges that fell away.
When I did not move from his path, he sighed.
"The na-Baron is surrounded with those of their own pursuits." He cleared his throat. Tension shifted his hips to the side while his eyes looked at the wall to his side to avoid the pressure of my gaze. "They only want him to kill their enemies and be slain in the process."
The scar gnarled and twisted along the half of the captain's face captured my attention. It was jagged, ragged, disgusting. It was not a mark of clean precision, but of raw brutality.
The Baron called Captain Rurik insolent. My experience was the same with the man.
But why.
"I did not trust you to not be one of them."
"If he is slain, you will find my body there next to his," I spat.
"I see that now," he said.
"There is only one I am loyal to. And that is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen."
He tucked his chin to his chest again. "Yes, my lady."
I swallowed. My hands tingled and sweated like the face of death stared back into my soul.
I don't know why it bothered me. His compliance disgusted me. This was the man I trusted to keep Feyd alive? This man bowed at the smallest show of care for Feyd. What if there were more powerful, cunning people who pretended better than I truly felt? How could this man protect the na-Baron's unsuspecting back?
"Mintha." Feyd's voice boomed all around us. I snapped my gaze to his waiting silhouette at the end of the corridor. He was a black shadow, drenched in darkness. The threatening monster of nightmares incarnate. "Come give the soldiers your well wishes."
The captain remained behind my back as I met the na-Baron on the brink of battle. The energy of the air became tainted. It was frantic, excited, building. I felt the barracks become a metal cage to wild gruesome monsters.
If it did not hold the key to my freedom, to the future of Feyd's blood, I would fear the monsters I'd let released into those sandy dunes.
It was not a fair fight.
Feyd gave me an audience of pale faces, devoid of their humanity. They looked upon me as a blinding figure at their front line. I saw it in their eyes. Their loyalty to what came from my own mouth - as Feyd commanded - would be scripture to their actions.
My palms steadied at my sides to hide their quivering.
Power, as Feyd promised me, laid at my feet. Why was it terrifying, and tempting?
The allure of its taste did not settle well in my mouth. I yearned to spit it out before it poisoned me wholly.
Words came from me with elegance I did not think I knew. I wished for their safe return, and if not their safe return, honorable death for their people, their planet, their na-Baron.
The tip of his tongue was clipped between his teeth as I looped my arm around Feyd's. Taunting corners moved on their own accord. His mouth struggled to remain stoic in front of his men when he yearned to smirk at me.
"Captain!" Feyd barked.
Captain Rurik appeared. His pride was level as his chin when he presented himself for his commander.
"I'll meet you on the warship," Feyd said.
"We'll meet on the verge of victory," the captain replied.
Feyd led me out of the barracks. I squinted against the dwindling light of daylight. The Arrakis dawn, truly, as it awakened the peoples of the word to come out and live.
My arm held close to his body, loathing the knowledge that it would leave me. An important piece of Feyd's venture rested upon this narrow thin precipice. A victory was needed. The destruction of a sietch, Muad'Dib conquered, killed in the sands of this violent planet.
Despite the aching in my chest, I had to let Feyd leave me.
This was a path he needed to conquer alone.
I put on a brave face. Tears, leftover from the night before surely - resurged at my eyes. They were withheld with the last bits of strength I had.
Feyd took us back to his chambers. He instructed the guards to inspect them before we entered. An arm looped around my waist and held tight to his body as we waited. His nose breathed deep against my neck.
It was unusual. My tongue was tempted to ask why. But I left it alone.
There was so much left to do, that it mattered very little why.
Soon enough, three Harkonnen guards emerged the quarters, intact. They gave the go-ahead to enter. We did so in quick step. Feyd secured the door behind us. Each lock slipped and wretched until it made a final sound of total security.
A bucket of black murky paint sat alone on the lounge table. My feet slowed.
"The tradition," I murmured in surprise.
"I await your promises."
His voice was soft and fatal inside the slippery interior that screamed for him. To hold him close, taste his mouth, feel the weight of his body against mine once more. Just once. It made the world feel right. Life settled into its ways without fear with the touch of his hands against my flesh.
"Come, sweetness. Mark me with promises."
He gave a short kiss against my shoulder before he stepped toward the paint.
"Before or after I kiss you?" I asked.
An excited growl boomed from his chest. "Don't tempt me. You know the traditions I uphold."
"I'm not asking you to break them," I said softly. "Only a simple kiss."
"No kiss is simple with you."
Even in the wake of battle and possible permanent separation, he knew how to make my heart pound harder. I felt a subtle heat drift upward to my cheeks.
I pressed my lips together. "Fine then."
Feyd revealed the canvas I had to work with. An entire naked young heir under my touch. He proudly displayed the erection that he held for me. His body subtly leaned into me as I moved around. A single touch of my fingertips along his spine, around his taut hard waist and up through the defined divide of his pecs, pulled his tongue between his teeth. A smile, still, emerged.
He stood taller as I admired my work. The throb in his cock was visible. It fought against his flesh to fully extend across the space toward me.
I smirked. "I see some traditions are difficult to resist."
The simple straps of his underclothes slipped up his legs until they hid the erection away. Bits of my banded design around his thigh smeared slight. The paint dried fast. But, not as fast as he'd put himself away.
Did he consider breaking the tradition without the obstacle of clothes stopping him? It seemed silly. A pair of pants? Feyd could flex and rip the reinforced seams of his clothes. His body was massive. The muscles grew triple their size when he tried.
"What do they mean this time?" He asked.
I wiped my hands against the provided towel. The black ink was already set into the tops of my fingers.
I'd touched the Harkonnen poison. Stained by it for all eternity.
It was a stain I could live with.
If Feyd's love was black tar bubbling from the worst cesspools in the Imperium, I would climb inside to know its warmth. Forever changed, but hot. Ever so hot. My body could not feel the sting of icy fear ever.
"You sure you want to know? A surprise is better."
"I hate surprises," he replied flatly.
My brow jumped. "Really?"
He nodded to himself. A shirt slipped over his torso. It caught against the swell of his chest before he pulled it downward.
"Why?" I asked.
"The unexpected. It exposes my vulnerabilities. My lack of caution. Any surprise is failure on my part," he explained. "I've become attuned to things. People. Routines. Ambitions. I study them. I want to know their every move, every thought, to predict what they might do so that I can prepare. I am never truly surprised. If I can help it. It has taken years, but I am confident that I can expect things before they begin."
My jaw went slack in its seat. It was a revelation that was not surprising, but still startled me to my core.
It sounded exhausting.
How could his mind consider all the things of his life with such detail?
"Were you surprised by the festival?" I asked.
"No," he revealed. "The surprise was that it was your hand that led it. I noticed. There were differences in numbers, placement of things. It was never cause for concern. So, I did not bother myself with it."
I sighed. "Well, that is disappointing."
I worked so hard on bringing him something he did not expect.
And he knew it.
Feyd observed my frown. He titled his head. "I enjoyed the festival."
"Part of the enjoyment is the thrill of being caught off guard."
"There is no enjoyment in being off guard," he said quickly.
He stepped closer. The examination of my features confused him. He studied them with great hunger.
"All my effort was for nothing," fell from my throat.
Disappointment with a palatable taste in its air.
Why was I so ruined?
He shook his head. "Not for nothing. I was honored by my lady. That is never nothing." He leaned closer, tucked a strand of my hair away from my face, and said, "There was one surprise of the night. I will admit to it. I was uncertain how to feel."
I swallowed. "And now you are certain?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"What was it?"
"The gift," he said. "Your tithe."
"A sword is an obvious choice. Hardly a surprise. It serves you best."
He snorted. "That sword could not be used."
It was a ceremonial. Yes. But it could be used, if it was all there was in a fight. That was not a total waste.
Still. My heart hurt in its disappointment.
All my effort, for nothing.
Feyd stood tall. His hands fell against my shoulders like a startling weight. It shrugged against my spine.
"Our time dwindles, Mintha. We must paint you, before it is time to go."
His entire hand delved into the paint.
"Me?" I exclaimed.
"Strip quickly."
I obeyed. The dress fell away from my frame. It was a puddle on the floor tickling my toes as I awaited his black touch.
His entire black palm pressed against my impregnated belly.
A large handprint covered the space meant for his spawn to grow.
He made no comment about what well wishes he intended with that possessive mark. I guessed it was to keep the one that remained safe.
Feyd covered my body in markings. It was deliberate and lengthy. I watched in silence as he worked, flexing his face to make it just so.
His eyes were precise. As much as his fingers were.
While my designs were thick and choppy, uneven and imperfect, his were intricate. They were small works of art. They were woven through, dainty, and beautiful.
A monster of black teeth and pale skin managed to shock me in the depths of his inner beauty. Their broken, twisted, haunted ways did not dimish the beauty there was, still found in him.
I knew there was style. He was specific about his clothes. His teeth were colored by choice. There was genuine thought put into appearances, all from his own mind.
How did I find myself still surprised by him?
He was all and nothing. Just as he always was.
The underside of his hands - palms and fingers - were thickly stained with paint when he finally stepped away to appraise his work.
"Well?" His eyes flicked to mine. I blinked. "What do you think?"
"You could be an artist," I revealed with a smile.
"Harkonnen's have no use for art." He tossed aside the towel drenched in dark hue. It slid across the surface of the table. Feyd gathered up my garments from the ground. "I'll call for your slave to tend to you."
The smile on my face dropped away. It struck me that this could be the last time I saw him.
"Go. She'll dress you in the bathing room. Mine must assist me with my armor."
"But Feyd -."
"There is no time, sweetness."
Naked with only Feyd's artistry marked upon me, I awaited in the bathing room. My feet paced. The anxiety built, the pending fight in the desert felt akin to the fight for Feyd's ascension to the throne.
There were many battles to happen for that to happen. So much death. Bodies of the universe left to rot in their defeat. Feyd's life possibly claimed amongst them.
What would happen then? My hand pressed against my belly. Its firmness greeted my touch.
Should I continue? Would Feyd's wish be for me to birth his bloodline still, in his defeat?
I would have to escape his enemies to succeed in that. That was too large an obstacle to consider. My death would come to brutal end if I was captured that way.
No. My lips fell a sigh through their pursed displeasure.
His fate sealed ours.
Death. Merciful death done by my own hand before they seized it for their own delights.
Nasira opened the door. Atop her shoulder was a black ensemble. I noticed two trouser legs cascade against her abaya. Vishti popped through a moment later.
"My lady. We must hurry, yes?" They said.
Nasira confirmed my observation. Black leather trousers not unlike Feyd's own. She presented them for me to step into.
I was too excited to ask why I got to wear pants.
"The Baron. Where is he?" I asked.
"Somewhere foul," Vishti spat.
"Has he ordered anyone be brought to his quarters?"
Vishti shook their head. "We should not talk of things. Na-Baron said you are needed."
"Needed?"
"Yes, my lady. Needed."
Nasira secured me into a bodice top with long black sleeves that compressed my body into shaping. There were thick black buckles at the waist that secured me tighter than my own outline made. There was a heart shaped neckline that was appealing. Despite the suffocating leather all over me.
A short hip-length cape tied at the back of my shoulder pads.
Vishti tied and knotted my hair up atop my head. It was kept out of the way. Not pretty, but rushed. There were imperfections that they would never allow otherwise.
Vishti pushed me out into the bed chambers. Feyd was half assembled into his armor suit. His eyes snapped to attention. Their vigor grew as they absorbed every inch of my body. From the thigh-high boots that ran into the black trousers that were skin-tight up to the bodice that was flared at the waist before cinching tight against my rib cage.
A significant ripple of emotion ran up his spine. He stood higher. A widening went to his shoulders.
His servants bowed their heads and stepped away. Their shuddering clinks the metal plates of armor.
"Lady Mintha, na-Baron," Vishti said. Their heads bowed low. Nasira, too, stood behind me like a pair of relatives offering me to a poisonous snake for dinner.
Feyd tipped his head. His throat bobbed, speechless.
Vishti and Nasira left on soundless toe. Their presence was a figment of imagination throughout the darkening of my mind.
Why did I crave him so intensely? My skin ached. The distance of our bodies was mere feet, but it felt like planets away. It did not warm me. The heat of his breath did not fill my chest like smoke. How I yearned for the wet heat of his tongue to slip inside me.
My fingers tangled together behind my back to hide their fidgeting. If left to their own devices, they'd be tempting Feyd away from traditions that he kept alive in practice. I did not trust the response. His, if it tempted him away from honor, or mine if he rejected my advances.
"So sad," he stated. "What makes your face frown like that?"
The ache in my body grew stronger. The agony of parting deepened its knife to my calm moment by moment.
He was going to a place I could not follow. I would be left behind.
"I detest any time you leave me, na-Baron."
Feyd turned his head. The cold distance in his eyes turned hard against the lowered submissive faces of his servants.
"Leave," he instructed them. "The witch will finish this."
"Ye-yes na-Baron." Their voices murmured. The clattering of the equipment to the ground was as soft as they managed to be at the speed they desired to flee.
I frowned deeper.
While they could not wait to escape him, I yearned to never leave his side.
My hands grasped a plate from the floor. It was heavy. Heavy between my hands, heavier still as it weighed against all the others that encased his body.
Smearing of my own sweat showed against the dark metal.
The tension thickened within his features. He examined my face as I moved. "I would not leave you anywhere."
"I know," I replied sadly. "You'll come back."
"I do not intend to leave you here. You will ride in the warship. By my side."
My work paused. "What about your heir?"
"Our daughter and you are not safe without me."
The last thing I wanted was to be away from him, yet my stomach twisted in discomfort with the prospect of being a direct witness to his savagery.
Breath trickled through my nostrils before I spoke again. "More reason to consider a bodyguard."
"No one is better suited than me. You are mine to protect. As one of my house, as my lady, as the mother of my lineage." His lips curled in a snarl. "My duty lies with you. It should fall to no other."
"There are many other things that are required of you as a na-Baron, Baron, future emperor, that will need you."
"Mintha -."
"Every day I become a liability to you." I rasped a slow breath.
The plate in my hands doubled in weight. Cool slick metal. The framing of my own jail cage. I slipped the piece inside its latches before I emerged from behind his back. A hardening state filled his face. My sadness did not cease under his disapproval.
"The Baron is right. I am a distraction," I revealed.
I winced as those words left me.
The Baron did deserve to be credited with any wisdom.
Feyd fumed. "He. Is. Not." His fists released before they reached out for my hand. "Do not say those things. Do not think them." He pleaded through gritted teeth. "You are the only good. The only thing I can call all my own. Good and whole. I'd lay waste to my entire home world if it would save you, sweetness. Save my own good."
I sniffed. My body shivered.
He believed me and the heir as his saviors. Save him from the blackness he inherited.
"Do not let him win." I found my sense of strength. It tightened within my fingers entangled with his. "Your girls," those words were foreign and strange atop my tongue, "have need of you, Feyd-Rautha. Leave something for us to still have."
Feyd smirked. A hint of humor upturned his mood.
"You will always have me, sweetness. More than you need, and then some."
I smiled.
That. That would always be true.