From the balcony of her private apartment, Jessica observed her frumpy, apple-cheeked lady-in-waiting in the practice yard near the west guardhouse. She watched as the breathless woman chattered with Thufir Hawat, using too many hand gestures as she spoke. Both of them glanced up at her window.

Does the Mentat think I am stupid?

In the month that Jessica had lived on Caladan, her every need had been met with cold precision, as a respected guest but no more. Thufir Hawat had personally seen to her comforts, placing her in the former apartments of the Lady Helena Atreides. After being sealed for so many years, the chambers had needed to be aired out, but the fine furniture, the pool-bath and sunroom, the complete wardrobe were all more than she required. A Bene Gesserit needed very little in the way of comfort and luxury.

The Mentat had also arranged for Jessica’s busybody lady-in-waiting, who flitted around her like a moth, finding little tasks that kept her close to Jessica at all times. Obviously, one of Hawat’s spies.

Abruptly, Jessica had dismissed the woman from service that very morning, giving her no reason. Now she sat back to await the repercussions. Would the Master of Assassins come himself, or would he send a representative? Would he even understand her intended message? Don’t underestimate me, Thufir Hawat.

From the balcony, she saw him break from his discussion with the disgraced woman. Moving with confidence and strength, he strode away from the west guardhouse toward the Castle proper.

A strange man, that Mentat. While still at the Mother School, Jessica had memorized Hawat’s background, how he’d spent half his life at a Mentat training center, first as a student and later as a philosopher and theoretical tactician, before being purchased for the newly titled Duke Paulus Atreides, Leto’s father.

Using her Bene Gesserit powers of observation, Jessica studied the leathery, confident man. Hawat wasn’t like other graduates of the Mentat Schools, the introverted types who shied away from personal contact. Instead, the deadly man was aggressive and crafty, with a fanatic loyalty to House Atreides. In some ways his deadly nature resembled that of the Tleilaxu-twisted Piter de Vries, but Hawat was the ethical opposite of the Harkonnen Mentat. It was all very curious. . . .

Similarly, she had noticed the old Master of Assassins scrutinizing her through his Mentat logic filter, processing bits of data about her and arriving at unsubstantiated conclusions. Hawat could be very dangerous indeed.

They all wanted to know why she was here, why the Bene Gesserit had chosen to send her, and what she meant to do.

Jessica heard a heavy-knuckled rap on the door, and answered it herself. Now we shall see what he has to say. Enough games.

Hawat’s lips were moist with sapho juice, and the deep-set brown eyes showed concern and agitation. “Please explain why you were dissatisfied with the servant I chose for you, my Lady.”

Jessica wore a lavender soosatin singlesuit, which showed off the curves of her slender body. Her makeup was minimal, only a bit of lavender around the eyes and lip tint to match. Her expression had no softness at all. “Given your legendary prowess, I’d thought you would be a man of greater subtlety, Thufir Hawat. If you are going to spy on me, choose someone a little more competent in the wiles of espionage.”

The bold comment surprised him, and he looked at the young woman with heightened respect. “I am in charge of the Duke’s security, my Lady, tending to his personal safety. I must take whatever actions I feel are required.”

Jessica closed the door, and they stood in the entry, close enough for a killing blow— by either of them. “Mentat, what do you know of the Bene Gesserit?”

A slight smile etched his leathery face. “Only what the Sisterhood permits outsiders to know.”

With raised voice, she snapped, “When the Reverend Mothers brought me here, Leto became my sworn master as well. Do you think I pose a danger to him? That the Sisterhood would take direct action against a Duke of the Landsraad? In the history of the Imperium, are you aware of a single instance in which such a thing has happened? It would be suicide for the Bene Gesserit.” She flared her nostrils. “Think, Mentat! What is your projection?”

After a heavy moment, Hawat said, “I am unaware of any such instance, my Lady.”

“And yet you stationed that clumsy wench to keep me under surveillance. Why do you fear me? What do you suspect?” She stopped herself from using Voice, which Hawat would never forgive. Instead, she added a quieter threat. “I caution you, do not attempt to lie to me.” There, let him think I am a Truthsayer.

“I apologize for the indiscretion, my Lady. Perhaps I am a bit . . . overzealous in protecting my Duke.” This is a strong young woman, Hawat thought. The Duke could do much worse.

“I admire your devotion to him.” Jessica noticed that his eyes had grown softer, but without evidence of fear, merely a bit more respect. “I have been here only a short time, while you have served three generations of Atreides. You bear a scar on your leg from a Salusan bull, from one of the Old Duke’s early encounters, do you not? It is not easy for you to accommodate something new.” She took the faintest step away from him, letting a trickle of regret enter her voice. “So far your Duke has treated me more like a distant relative, but I hope he will not find me displeasing in the future.”

“He does not find you displeasing at all, my Lady. But he has already chosen Kailea Vernius as a partner. She is the mother of his son.”

It had not taken Jessica long to learn that there were fractures in the relationship. “Come now, Mentat, she is not his bound-concubine, and not his wife. Either way, he has given the boy no birthright. What message are we to derive from that?”

Hawat stood rigid, as if offended. “Leto’s father taught him to use marriage only to gain political advantage for House Atreides. He has many prospects in the Landsraad. He has not yet calculated the best match . . . though he is considering.”

“Let him consider, then.” Jessica signaled that the conversation was over. She waited for him to turn, and then she added, “Henceforth, Thufir Hawat, I prefer to choose my own ladies-in-waiting.”

“As you wish.”

After the Mentat had departed, Jessica assessed her situation, thinking of long-term plans rather than her mission for the Sisterhood. Her beauty could be enhanced by Bene Gesserit seduction techniques. But Leto was proud and individualistic; the Duke might guess her intentions and would resent being manipulated. Even so, Jessica had a job to do.

In fleeting moments she had noticed him looking at her with guilt in his eyes— particularly after fights with Kailea. Whenever Jessica tried to take advantage of those moments, though, he quickly grew cold and pulled away.

Living in the Lady Helena’s former quarters did not help, either. Leto was reluctant to go there. Following the death of Paulus Atreides, the enmity between Leto and his mother had been extreme, and Helena had gone to “rest and meditate” in a remote religious retreat. To Jessica it smacked of banishment, but she had found no clear reasons in the Atreides records. Being placed in these rooms could act as an emotional barrier between them.

Leto Atreides was certainly dashing and handsome, and Jessica would have no trouble accepting his company. In fact, she wanted to be with him. She chided herself whenever such feelings came over her— as they did too frequently. She could not allow emotions to sway her; the Bene Gesserit had no use for love.

I have a job to do, she reminded herself. Jessica would bide her time and wait for just the right moment.