ASCENDANCY (Feyd-Rautha)

CHAPTER SIX

The Baron had given me a servant girl as a welcome gift. Of course, to him, the offering of a human was a perfectly acceptable gesture. She was surely not serving the Harkonnens by choice. Girls like her on rarely lived long on Giedi Prime. She appeared to be around my age, though her thin frame made her look younger. She lacked hair, as was customary here, and her eyes were completely blackened, as if they had been replaced with glossy, black stones. She moved with a trained silence, the kind born of fear rather than grace.

"Lord Baron Vladimir has requested I help you prepare for the gathering this evening," The girl said, her voice frail.

"I can manage, thank you," I replied. But she did not move. She lingered by the door, afraid to leave. If the Baron discovered she had not done what he asked, it would not end well for her.

"You may draw me a bath," I said at last, putting her to work.

I was housed in the guest wing of the palace, as I was during my last visit. The servant girl hurried into the washroom, her large pouch of supplies clutched in her hand. 

Although this was a guestroom, the space was still rather large and lavish. Every surface gleamed in shades of black, polished and glossed. Despite the lack of windows, it did not feel like a prison. The bed was vast, draped with a silk duvet. There was no decor, unless one counted the peculiar architecture itself. The walls were constructed from what looked like massive glass beads, dark and cool to the touch. They offered no clear view beyond, only the suggestion of shadow. A writing desk sat in one corner, paired with a sleek leather chair. It was functional, not inviting.

"Your bath is ready, my Lady." Said the servant, her eyes fixed the floor, hands clasped tightly at her waist. 

I stepped into the washroom, where a tub made of black marble sat in the centre. I removed my clothing and eased myself into the bath. The heat embraced me. I closed my eyes and let my head sink beneath the water, expecting the girl to retreat and grant me a moment of solitude. But when I sat up and opened my eyes, she was approaching with a washcloth in hand. 

Without a word, she knelt to the floor and grabbed my arm, scrubbing it vigorously. I was surprised by the strength of her frail body, she made my skin feel sore. I had not been bathed by another person since childhood. Perhaps this, too, was part of gaining station in the Imperium. I was now deemed part of the elite, and the elite, it seemed, did not bathe themselves.

She moved up my arm with precision, her motions quick. When she lifted it to clean beneath, she paused, eyes locked on the hair under my arm. Silently, she stepped away and opened her black leather satchel, it almost looked like those carried by battlefield medics. From it, she retrieved a device shaped like a broad pistol. She returned, pressed it to the hair beneath my arm, and pulled the trigger. 

A flash of heat surged through my flesh, making me flinch. The smell of scorched hair filled the room.

"What is that?" I asked.

"To rid of your hair, my Lady," She replied. I had never given much thought to my body hair, though it made sense for the Harkonnens to be offended by it, considering their hairless nature.

She moved to my other side and burned away the hair beneath that arm as well.

"What is your name?" I asked. 

She hesitated. "I am not supposed to say." She whispered.

"Do not make me ask twice." I said, my voice just as low. I liked that she feared me. Power had a way of drawing out all the lousy parts of me.

"Amma." She finally said, barely audible.

She continued scrubbing me in silence, and by the time she was done, every part of me felt stripped, scoured and clean.