The greatest obligation of a mother is to support her children, to show them love and respect, and to accept them. Sometimes this is a most difficult task.

—LADY JESSICA, Duchess of Caladan

Stirring up so many memories from her past had exhausted Jessica, and she went to snatch a moment of quiet within the crèche where her grandchildren were held. Harah was still there watching over the infants, just as she had done with little Alia. Stilgar’s wife had stood as a determined wall against all the mutterings and Fremen prejudices about Alia’s strangenesses. Even as the girl matured into a powerful role, first as priestess and then as Regent, Jessica knew that Harah would always have a special place in her daughter’s heart.

When the priest guards allowed Jessica to enter the lush conservatory, Harah bowed deferentially. Jessica touched the woman’s chin and raised her face, saw the dark hair that swept back like raven’s wings at the sides. “Come now, Harah, we’ve known each other too long for such formalities.”

Harah stepped back so Jessica could peer down at the two silent and eerily alert babies. “Now would you like to hold your grandchildren?” Her voice held an undertone of disapproval that Jessica had taken so long to come.

Strangely reticent, Jessica bent down and picked up the girl. Ghanima settled into the crook of her grandmother’s arm as if she belonged there, accepting this new person without fussing or crying. From the basket below, little Leto II watched with clear blue eyes wide open, as though to make sure his twin sister was all right. Given that their father was the Kwisatz Haderach, what kind of children might they grow up to be?

Alia burst into the crèche room with Duncan Idaho close beside her; she moved with an excitement, a cheerful energy that she had not shown since Jessica’s arrival on Dune. Alia wore a broad smile. “I’d hoped to find you here, Mother. I wanted you to be the first to hear our announcement. Ah—and Harah, too! This is perfect.” Alia folded her fingers around Duncan’s, and the ghola stared with his eerie metal eyes.

Harah took the baby back from Jessica, replaced her in the small crib. Alia tossed her own coppery hair, making her announcement. “We have seen the need. After so much turmoil, the Imperium needs something to cheer, a pleasant spectacle that can show new hope for the future. Duncan and I have decided to move quickly. We have no doubts.”

Jessica felt an unexpected knot in her stomach, instinctively wondering what her daughter had decided to do. Why wasn’t the ghola saying anything?

In a bright voice that sounded like an imitation of joy rather than real happiness, Alia said, “Duncan and I are going to be married. We’re a perfect match, and we love each other in ways that most people cannot understand.”

Alia was barely sixteen, and Duncan was practically Jessica’s age—the original Duncan at least. But Alia had been born with a panoply of adult memories; inside her mind, the girl had already experienced countless marriages, lifelong happy relationships, as well as those shattered by tragedy and strife.

And Duncan wasn’t the same Duncan either.

Jessica tried to find the right thing to say. “This is . . . unexpected. Are you sure you aren’t being too impulsive?”

Instantly, she regretted her own comment. All decisions didn’t have to be the result of cold calculations—she wasn’t a Mentat! Despite her Bene Gesserit training (and much to the Sisterhood’s dismay), Jessica made decisions with her heart as well as her mind. She had done that when she’d chosen to conceive Paul in the first place. And Alia afterward . . .

Alia spoke with great surety. “Duncan is the right man, Mother, the man who can help me hold the Imperium together. I hope to have your support.”

Jessica looked at her daughter. “As your mother, how could I offer anything else?” The smile and the sincerity, though, came much harder. “And who could ask for a braver, more loyal man than Duncan Idaho?”

The ghola spoke up for the first time, his words and voice sounding so familiar. “I realize this must be strange to you, Lady Jessica. I died for you and for your son. And now I love your daughter, who wasn’t even born before my first life ended.”

Jessica wondered why it was that she greeted this news with so little enthusiasm. Am I just being selfish? she thought. My Duke loved me, but he never made me his wife. Paul loved Chani, but never made her his wife.

And now Alia and Duncan. A strange pair, but oddly suited to each other.

Jessica reached out to place one hand on the ghola’s arm and the other on Alia’s. “Of course you have my blessing.”

“Oh, child, I do hope you will be happy,” Harah said. “You need strength. And if this man is the one to give it to you, then you two must be wed.”

“Together, we will rule the Imperium and keep it strong.” Alia glanced down at the babies. “Until Leto and Ghanima come of age, of course.”