He had laid himself completely bare to her; scars and all-- then peeled off his own skin and ripped open his own ribcage to offer her the deepest thing he could offer her: his soul. She had cradled it and breathed warmth into it... and then destroye...
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"souls dont meet by accident."
Giedi Prime, 10185
"You have acquitted yourself admirably, Leonara," intoned Mother, her voice a measured cadence that held no pride. Leonara inclined her head in acknowledgment, a subtle ripple of pride coursing beneath the surface. "Thank you, Reverend Mother," she murmured, her words a deferential echo in the cavernous chamber.
"Yet, we stand at the threshold of our final endeavor," Mother continued, her tone as inscrutable as the depths of the abyss. "Though you have navigated the treacherous currents thus far, a yet greater challenge lies ahead."
Leonara's brow furrowed imperceptibly, a flicker of apprehension stirring within her breast. "And what might that be?" she inquired, her voice a careful modulation of curiosity.
"To impress the Na-Baron, Feyd-Rautha," came Mother's solemn decree, her words hanging heavy in the air like the ominous portent of a storm on the horizon.
At the mention of the name, a shiver of dread coursed through Leonara's veins, conjuring specters of authority and menace. Was Feyd-Rautha to be a mirror of his uncle? She suppressed a tremor, clinging to the fragile hope that perhaps this Na-Baron would possess a countenance less formidable... less grotesque than his uncle was.
Yet, amidst the tumult of her thoughts, a memory stirred—a memory of a stranger whose visage had haunted her dreams. She recalled the allure of his form, a beauty veiled in shadows and mystery. It was a memory she dared not dwell upon, yet one that tugged at the corners of her consciousness with relentless persistence.
"Will Feyd-Rautha be... unappealing?" Leonara ventured tentatively, her words weighted with a hint of trepidation. It was not a smart question to ask, of course, however her curiosity got the best of her.
Mother's gaze bore into her with an intensity that bordered on reproach. "We do not speak of such trivialities, child," she admonished, her voice a stern rebuke cloaked in maternal concern. "This is a matter of duty and diplomacy, not idle musings on beauty."
Leonara swallowed hard, chastened by her mother's admonition. "Yes, Mother," she murmured, her resolve tempered by the steel of determination. In the crucible of politics and power, sentimentality held no sway. Duty was her compass, she would not stop for the fear of unappeal. She was a bene Gesserit, after all.
"Now, we must get going to see the Baron and his nephew. I think the Na-Baron may acquire a liking to your visage." This time, her mother's voice betrayed satisfaction, maybe even pride. Leonara smiled gratefully, "Thank you, Reverend Mother."
The two of them walked with a few servant's accompaniment towards the Baron's room. The hallways were recognizable to Leonara, having walked these very steps last night. The same night she saw him.
Stop that, set your sights on what is to come, she admonished. The Reverend mother glanced at her.
