It hardly seemed appropriate for a well-respected Duke and his concubine to make love in a cluttered storeroom, but time was short and Leto knew he would miss her desperately. Jessica was due to leave for Kaitain in the Heighliner that circled Caladan. She would be gone by the next morning.

Only a few steps down the corridor, cooks attended to their duties in the kitchen, banging pans, cracking mussels, chopping herbs. One of them could pop in at any moment to look for dried spices or a bag of salt. But after he and Jessica had slipped inside the cluttered room, each carrying a glass of dry claret taken during an earlier tryst in the wine cellar, Leto had blocked the door with several crates of imported bitterberry tins. He had also managed to bring the bottle with him, which he rested on a box in the corner.

Two weeks ago, after Rhombur’s wedding, these unlikely liaisons had begun as a whim, an idea inspired by her imminent departure for Kaitain. Eventually, Leto wanted to make love to her in every room in the Castle, closets not included. Though pregnant, Jessica was up to the challenge, and seemed both amused and delighted.

The stately young woman set her wineglass on a shelf, her green eyes sparkling. “Do you meet serving wenches in here, too, Leto?”

“I hardly have enough energy for you. Why would I exhaust myself further?” He moved three dusty jars of preserved lemons from the top of a large crate. “I’ll need a few months alone just to regain my strength.”

“I should hope so, but this must be our last time today.” Jessica’s tone was gentle, almost scolding. “I haven’t finished packing.”

“And the Emperor’s wife won’t be able to provide clothing for her new lady-in-waiting?”

She kissed his cheek and removed the black Atreides jacket he wore. Folding the garment carefully, she laid it down with the hawk crest showing. She then peeled his shirt off, sliding it down his shoulders to expose his chest.

“Allow me to prepare a suitable bed, my Lady.” Opening the crate, Leto removed a sheet of bubbleplaz used for packing fragile items. He spread it on the floor.

“You offer all the comfort I need.” Moving their wineglasses out of harm’s way, she showed him that she could make do even in a small storeroom, with nothing but bubbleplaz beneath them….

As she held him afterward, Leto said, “Things would be different if I weren’t a Duke. Sometimes I wish you and I could just…” His words trailed off.

Gazing into his gray eyes, Jessica saw his unspoken love for her, a chink in the armor of this proud, frequently aloof man. She handed him his glass of claret, took a sip of her own. “I make no demands upon you.” She remembered the resentment that had gnawed at his first concubine Kailea, who had never seemed to appreciate anything he did for her.

Leto began to dress himself awkwardly. “I want to say so many things to you, Jessica. I… I am sorry I held a knife to your throat at our first meeting. It was only to show the Sisterhood that I could not be manipulated. I never would have used it against you.”

“I know that.” She kissed him on the lips. Even with the sharp edge pressed against her jugular, all those years ago, she had never felt any real threat from Leto Atreides. “Your apology is worth more than any trinket or jewel you could have given me.”

Leto ran his fingers through her long bronze hair. Studying the perfection of her small nose, generous mouth, and elegant figure, he could hardly believe she was not of noble blood.

He sighed, knowing he could never marry this woman. His father had made that only too clear. Never marry for love, boy. Think first of your House and of its position in the Imperium. Think of your people. They will rise, or fall, with you.

Still, Jessica carried his baby, and he had promised himself that their child would bear the Atreides name and inheritance, regardless of other dynastic considerations. Another son, he hoped.

As if attuned to his thoughts, Jessica placed a finger over his lips. She understood that, with all of his pain and concerns, Leto was not ready for commitment. But it buoyed her spirit to see him struggling with his emotions— just as she did. A Bene Gesserit axiom intruded on her thoughts: Passion clouds reason.

She hated the constraints of such admonitions. Her teacher Mohiam, faithful and stern, had raised her under the strict guidance of the Sisterhood, sometimes doing hurtful things and inflicting harsh lessons. But for all that, Jessica still felt a pull of love for the old woman, and respect for what the Reverend Mother had achieved in her. More than anything else, Jessica did not want to disappoint Mohiam… but she had to be true to herself as well. She had done things for her own love, for Leto.

He stroked the soft skin of her abdomen, still flat, not yet showing the curve of pregnancy. He smiled, letting his barriers down, loving her. He allowed his hopes to show. “Before you go, Jessica, tell me… is it a son?”

She toyed with his dark hair but turned her face away, wanting to be close to him but afraid she might reveal too much. “I have not allowed Dr. Yueh to perform any tests, my Duke. The Sisterhood frowns on such interference.”

Leto’s smoke-gray eyes were intent, and he chided her. “Come, you are a Bene Gesserit. You let yourself get pregnant after the death of Victor, and I appreciate that more than I can ever tell you.” His face softened with obvious love for her, an emotion he rarely showed in front of others. She took a hesitant step toward him, wanting Leto to fold her in his arms, but he pressed for answers. “So, is it a son? You know, don’t you?”

Her legs went weak, and she sat back on the crate. She flinched from his hard gaze, but she wouldn’t lie to him. “I… cannot tell you, my Duke.”

He was taken aback, the lighthearted mood gone now. “You can’t tell me because you don’t know the answer— or you won’t tell me for a secret reason of your own?”

Refusing to allow herself to become distraught, Jessica gazed at him with clear green eyes. “I cannot tell you, my Duke, so please do not ask.” Finding the open bottle of wine again, she poured him another glass, which he declined.

Leto turned from her, his stance rigid. “Well, I’ve been thinking. If it is a son, I have decided to name him Paul in honor of my father.”

Primly, Jessica took a sip of her own wine. Despite the embarrassment, she hoped that a servant would interrupt them by barging into the pantry. Why does he have to raise such matters now? “That is your decision, my Duke. I never met Paulus Atreides, and I know him only through what you have said about him.”

“My father was a great man. The people of Caladan loved him.”

“I have no doubt of that.” She looked away, gathering her clothes and dressing. “But he was… coarse. I disagree with many things your father taught you. Personally, I would prefer… another name.”

Leto raised his aquiline nose, his pride and pain outweighing any desire for concession with her. Regardless of what he wanted, he had mastered the art of erecting fortress walls around his heart. “You forget your place.”

She set her wineglass down with a heavy click that nearly broke the delicate crystal. It overbalanced on the uneven crate and spilled. Abruptly, Jessica turned to the pantry door, surprising him. “If you only knew what I’ve done for your love.” She left, straightening her clothes.

Leto cared for her deeply, though he didn’t always understand her. He followed her down the interior Castle corridors, ignoring the servants’ curious stares, longing for her acceptance.

With quiet footsteps, she moved swiftly through pools of light cast by glowglobes and entered her private chamber. She knew he followed, knew he would probably grow angrier because she’d made him pursue her.

Leto stopped at the threshold of her suite, and, trembling, she whirled to confront him. At the moment she didn’t want to mask her own anger, wanted to feel it and get it out. But the scars of anguish were written across his face— not simply sorrow for the tragic deaths of Victor and Kailea, but also for his slain father. It was not her place to hurt him further… and it was not her place, as a Bene Gesserit, to love him either.

She felt the anger drain out of her.

Leto had loved the old Duke. Paulus Atreides had taught him about politics and marriage, rigid rules that did not allow for the love between a man and a woman. His adherence to his father’s teachings had turned his first concubine’s devotion into murderous treachery.

But Leto had also watched his father gored to death by a drug-maddened Salusan bull and been forced to become Duke Atreides at a young age. Was it so wrong that he wanted to name his new son after Paulus? She was leaving tomorrow for Kaitain, and she might not see him for months. Indeed, as a Bene Gesserit Sister, there would be no guarantee that she would ever be allowed to return to Caladan. Especially when they discovered the sex of the baby she carried, in defiance of their commands.

I will not leave him like this.

Before the Duke could speak at the doorway, she said, “Yes, Leto. If the child is a boy, Paul will be his name. We need argue no more about it.”

Early the following morning, at the hour when fishing boats departed from the Cala City docks to ply channels through distant kelp beds, Jessica awaited the time of her departure.

Just down the corridor, she heard angry words coming from the Duke’s private study. The door stood ajar, and the black-robed Gaius Helen Mohiam sat in a high-backed chair just inside the room. She recognized the woman’s voice from years spent under her tutelage at the Mother School.

“The Sisterhood has made the only possible decision, Duke Atreides,” Mohiam said. “We do not understand the ship or the process ourselves, and we have no intention of providing clues to any other noble family— not even House Atreides. With respect, sir, your request is denied.”

Jessica inched closer. Others were in the study with them. She identified the voices of Thufir Hawat, Duncan Idaho, and Gurney Halleck.

Gurney roared, “What’s to prevent the Harkonnens from using it on us again?”

“They cannot reproduce the weapon, so the inventor must be unavailable— probably dead.”

“The Bene Gesserit brought this to our attention, Reverend Mother,” Leto barked. “You, personally, told me of the Harkonnen plot against me. For years I have put aside my pride, not using the information to clear my name— but now my purpose is more important. Do you doubt my ability to use the weapon in a sensible manner?”

“Your good name stands without question. My Sisters know this. Nonetheless, we have decided that such technology is too dangerous for any one man— or House— to hold.”

She heard a crash in the study, and Leto spoke in a loud, angry voice: “You’re taking my Lady, too. One affront after another. I insist that my man here, Gurney Halleck, accompany Jessica as bodyguard. For her own protection. I dare not risk her.”

Mohiam sounded exceedingly rational. A hint of Voice? “The Emperor has promised safe passage to Kaitain and protection in the Palace. Fear not, your concubine will be well cared for. The rest is out of your hands.” She rose to her feet, as if to indicate the conclusion of the meeting.

“Jessica will soon be the mother of my child,” Leto said, his words carrying a deadly edge. “See that she is kept safe— or I will hold you personally responsible, Reverend Mother.”

Her heart soaring at these words, Jessica saw Mohiam make a subtle body movement, shifting to a barely detectable fighting stance. “The Sisterhood is capable of protecting the girl better than any former smuggler can.”

Boldly, Jessica stepped into the room, interrupting the escalating tensions. “Reverend Mother, I am ready to depart for Kaitain, if you will allow me to say my farewells to the Duke.”

The men in the room hesitated, startled into an uncomfortable silence. Mohiam looked at her, making it clear that she had known Jessica was eavesdropping all along. “Yes, child, it is time.”

Watching the dwindling glow from the shuttle engines, Duke Leto Atreides stood in the spaceport below, surrounded by Gurney, Thufir, Rhombur, and Duncan… four men who would have given their lives for him, if he asked it.

He felt empty and alone, and thought of all the things he wished he’d had the courage to say to Jessica. But he had lost his chance, and would regret it until they were in each other’s arms again.