They say where one goes, the other follows.
In the sprawling expanse of the cosmos, Paul Atreides and Seraphina Sylvane are bound together by an unbreakable tether. Despite the light years and planetary divides throughout the Known Universe, their...
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Lysandra Sylvane melded into the shadows, her lithe form moving with the silent grace of a predator. Her piercing eyes, cold and calculating, tracked Dr. Yueh's every movement as he navigated the dimly lit corridors of the Castle. She had harbored suspicions about him for a long time, his every gesture and word steeped in deceit that only she seemed to perceive. It amused and infuriated her in equal measure that Lady Jessica remained oblivious to his duplicity.
A subtle shift in the atmosphere heightened her senses; an indistinct yet palpable tension indicated something was imminent. Lysandra's instincts, honed by years of intrigue and manipulation, told her that a crucial moment was approaching. She glided silently behind Dr. Yueh, ensuring her presence was nothing more than a whisper in the air.
Dr. Yueh paused before a door she recognized as the entrance to his private clinic. His hand lingered on the handle, a flicker of hesitation betraying his usual composed demeanor. As he slipped inside, Lysandra moved swiftly, her movements synchronized with the door's closing to enter unnoticed.
Inside, the room was dimly lit, the air thick with the mingled scents of medicinal herbs and antiseptics. Lysandra's breath caught as her gaze fell upon the scene before her. There, standing freely and seemingly without fear, was the servant girl. The one whose presence was as enigmatic as it was rare. She was not bound, not restrained in any way, but waiting for Dr. Yueh with an unsettling calmness.
Hiding behind a large cabinet, Lysandra took in the girl's shivering form. Zhantara's right hand, missing and wrapped in gauze and bandages, trembled slightly. Lysandra's eyes narrowed at the sight. This girl was supposed to be in the prison, probably banished by now after her punishment. Why is she here?
"You've taken the medicine?" Dr. Yueh asked, his voice low and measured as he walked towards a shelf and picked up a jar filled with herbs.
"I-I did," Zhantara replied, clenching her jaw as she stared at her lost limb. "It's not enough. I need more painkillers if you want me to do my work."
Dr. Yueh hummed softly, opening the jar and taking out the ingredients. He began to crush the herbs meticulously, his movements precise and practiced. He then mixed the powdered herbs into a glass of water.
"Take this," Dr. Yueh said, passing the glass to Zhantara. "It will numb your sensory nerves, and you won't feel anything. It's potent, and even if you're being stabbed, you'll feel nothing."
Zhantara snatched the glass and immediately drank it, her eyes glinting with a mix of desperation and determination.
"It's addicting, though," Dr. Yueh continued, his tone indifferent despite the warning. "The aftereffects won't be pleasant once it wears off." He began to pack some items into his bag, and Lysandra's eyes narrowed further as she recognized a familiar paralyzing dart gun among them.
"Is it finally happening?" Zhantara asked, her voice trembling slightly as she stared at the empty glass on the table.
"It is inevitable," Dr. Yueh replied, his focus on his preparations. "You'll finally get what you wanted, and I will have mine. But if you fail to secure the girl, you'll lose more than your hand once they arrive. Work wisely."
