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Norma continued, “Now Butlerian atomics have incinerated all Navigator facilities on Kolhar.” She drifted in the tank with an accusatory stare and attitude. “Stability must be restored. Commerce must return. We need a constant supply of spice from Arrakis.”

Her large face pressed against the viewing port. “Emperor Roderick Corrino, I personally guarantee your safety if you travel to Arrakis to meet with my great-grandson, as he asks.” Her voice grew louder, booming. “This crisis must be resolved.”

Roderick shuddered visibly at the sight of the Navigator woman staring at him, and Cioba added quietly, “Please meet with my husband, Sire. It will change the course of the Imperium, will save the Imperium.”

The Emperor grudgingly listened as Cioba and Haditha explained the request for a secret détente session over Arrakis. When they were finished, he exchanged a deeply communicative look with his wife, and Haditha gave the smallest of nods.

Roderick glanced at Norma’s tank, then said to Cioba, “I do not trust Josef Venport after what he has done, but Norma Cenva … is something else entirely. It is still a gamble, but I will go.”

Is there no end to the impetuous nature of the young, you ask? Ah, but if their brash actions ceased, civilization would lose a vital resource. The secret is to harness that energy for good purposes.

—FAYKAN CORRINO, first Emperor after the fall of the thinking machines

As Willem Atreides recovered from his injuries, he learned to his dismay that Vor had abandoned him on Chusuk. Bringing Tula Harkonnen to justice was supposed to have been their joint mission!

During his weeks of recuperation in a luxurious guest house at the Royal Bach Palais, the young man was restless even with the constant attentions of Princess Harmona and her excellent staff. He was impatient to be on the move again, to rejoin Vorian. He could not let his ancestor do everything himself.

Harmona obviously wanted him to stay. He longed for a normal life and a beautiful companion, thinking of her caring, charming personality as much as her physical beauty. She was everything he could have asked for, and more … but first he had a job to do. For Orry.

A paunchy male servant brought a tray of food for him and left it on a table in the sitting area. Willem thanked the man, though he didn’t feel much like eating. Feeling edgy, like a caged animal, he paced around the main room.

He and Vor had almost caught Tula Harkonnen, but now Vorian was pursuing her alone, without Willem. She killed Orry! I will not be left behind! He’d spoken of this to anyone in the palais who would listen, but Harmona’s personal physician was just as firm in requiring him to remain here, so that he could heal. Well, he had healed enough by now. Even with his undeniable feelings toward Harmona, he could not continue day after day in this velvet-lined prison. He might have forced the issue and left anytime he wished, but he had no resources of his own, and no ship that would let him follow Vorian Atreides.

He had only a written note from him, instructing him to remain safe on Chusuk until he received further word. Safe! His brother was dead and the murderer was still on the loose. “I intend to draw out the Harkonnens,” Vor had written.

Each day became more difficult than the previous one. Harmona was aware of his growing frustration, and they discussed his concerns. Each night he went to bed with troubling thoughts whirling through his mind, and lay awake for hours. In the mornings, he felt weary, with nothing resolved.

But he did enjoy his time with the princess, and Harmona was almost, almost enough to make him forget. Yet there were too many unresolved issues for him to drag her into his uncertain life. He had to ensure that Tula Harkonnen paid the price she owed.

But apparently Vor had mentioned going to Corrin, luring them there, facing his enemies, and keeping Willem safe … a plan that did not require Willem’s participation. Not if he had anything to say about it!

After knocking lightly, Harmona entered, wearing a maroon dress embroidered with the silver treble-clef crest of House Bach. Yet before she could even greet him, he stood and announced his decision in a firm tone. “I’m going to Corrin. That’s where Vorian went, and I can’t let him finish this without me.”

She looked at him with concern, but not surprise. “You’re not in peak condition yet. You should remain under a doctor’s care for a few more weeks.”

“I have been under his care for too long as far as I’m concerned, and now I am recovered enough. I’ll try to be careful, but I won’t let my injuries slow me down if I see Tula Harkonnen. As an Atreides, I have no choice after what she did.”

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