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Feyd rolled the metal ball towards her, a hopeful look on his face. Emmi knelt down, mindful of her black woollen skirts. She rolled it back towards him, her cheeks hot as everyone stared. She brushed her thumb against his chubby cheek before standing back up.
“Mama?”
“Hush, Paula”
Lady Jessica Atreides’ - no, not Atreides - pointed chin was lifted high in the air. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back in a shining braid that nearly reached her waist. She looked bored, her pale eyes drifting across the scene as if she were above it all.
“Have they both begun speaking?” Reverend Mother Mohaim asked, her face cast in shadow underneath her woven veils as she lurked behind the Emperor. Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV - ruler of the Imperium and seat of the Golden Lion Throne - looked like he longed to go back to bed.
“Paula has, Reverend Mother” Everyone’s eyes flicked towards her.
Emmi stood upright. “Yes, Reverend Mother. However, the accents on Lankeveili are thicker than in the Core. I believe he understands less here, on Kaitain” Feyd had not spoken a word since they had arrived, staring at his alien surroundings with wide, worried eyes. He wouldn't sleep in his own bed, curling into the crook of Emmi's arm at naptime and nighttime. Abulard was becoming irritated.
“That will have to be rectified” Reverend Mother mused.
“Of course, Reverend Mother” Emmi scratched her long nails across the back of her hand absentmindedly.
The Reverend Mother stepped closer to her baby boy, a draped sleeve swishing as she reached out as if to touch him. Emmi’s heart thudded hard. But the woman glided away to loom over Paula Atreides.
Paula Atreides was pretty. The little Atreides had a head of bouncy, black curls that were pulled into a spike on the top of her head with an emerald green ribbon. She was stacking a pile of blocks with a solemn face, paying no mind to the veiled woman staring at her. The girl accidentally knocked her block tower over with her foot; Paula sighed loudly and started building again.
“A bright and beautiful pair, the both of them” The Emperor rasped, his thin lips pressed together. Emmi swiftly smiled back, but no one was paying attention to her. Opposite her, Jessica sniffed loudly. Reverend Mother Mohaim’s veiled head twitched.
Bright and beautiful. Feyd looked shabby next to the Atreides girl, she realised anxiously.
Baron Harkonnen coughed loudly, wiping away the bloody spittle from his chin with a cotton handkerchief. “He is not wearing Harkonnen regalia, Emmi”
He had refused to wear his beautiful new tunic - black velvet with the griffin of House Harkonnen embroidered on the breast in white thread. It was chosen especially for the occasion by the Baron Harkonnen himself, and could you please put it on Feyd, I know this is all very upsetting but this is very important to your Uncle, it is important to me, please please, don’t, oh no, please-
Emmi forced a smile. “Toddlers are very independent at this age, I am afraid. Feyd wears what he wishes to wear”
“Indeed” Jessica said cooly, looking down at her daughter. “I find Paula loves to wander anywhere and everywhere by herself at this age. She loves to explore the castle alone. I have our men tail her from a distance so we do not lose track of her”
“You would not want to lose track of her” The Emperor laughed lightly. Count Fenring mimicked his chuckles. Jessica’s gaze flickered. “The girl is eighteen months. The boy is twenty one months. Is that correct?” Fenring asked.
“That is correct” Reverend Mother Mohaim cut in. Emmi’s cheek muscles ached from maintaining her pleasant smile.
“Sixteen years and six months until they can be wed” Fenring said. He turned to Jessica, placing a thin gloved hand on her shoulder. Emmi watched Jessica’s eyes flash red before cooling. “And then, of course, another nine until a child can be born” Fenring tutted. “Unless, of course, Duke Leto Atreides would permit his daughter to be wed at sixteen years of age? My Lord Baron, you would permit an earlier marriage for the boy, would you not?”
“Of course, the boy will be well-primed and plucked by then”
“Lady Jessica?”
“. . . I would have to ask the Duke, Count Fenring”
“It will happen when it happens, Count Fenring” Reverend Mother Mohaim said curtly. “No need to rush fate” The man’s ferrety face twitched.
“Of course, Reverend Mother” Feyd dropped one of the metal balls on the floor with a loud thud.
“Shall we capture the moment?” The Emperor clicked his fingers. A small man emerged from the shadows wearing a tunic of gold and black. Poking out from his leather waisbelt were long, thin brushes.
Emmi’s smile faded. “. . . Capture the moment, Your Eminence?”
“A portrait. This is a moment of momentous occasion after all” Emmi looked at Jessica with wide, worried eyes. The woman merely gave her a blank stare back. She bowed her head reluctantly.
“Will it take long? Nap time is approaching, Your Eminence, my Lord Baron”
“It shall take as long as needed” The small man spoke, his voice quivering. An eisel was set next to him by a bald headed servant. “I shall call this painting ‘the future’. Mothers, if you would pick up both children”
“Pick up” Emmi echoed listlessly.
Jessica glared a little at the presumptuous painter but picked up Paula anyway. The girl’s face screwed up a little, wriggling in her mother’s arms. Both mother and child looked deeply uncomfortable.
“Come here, sweetie” Emmi murmured as she picked Feyd up, ignoring the twinging in her back.
“Now, if you would both stand-”
“I would like to hold the boy” A rumble cut in. Emmi felt her face drop. “He is my heir, after all” The Baron’s mechanical chair whirred forward, the fat man’s arm outstretched. “If you would, good sister”
Emmi’s arms tightened, Feyd whimpered a little. “Of course, my Lord Baron” The Baron’s arms were too loose, she bit her lip anxiously. Feyd leaned a little too far to the side but rightened himself.
Emmi moved to stand behind the eisel with the rest, nails digging into her palm. Jessica looked not at Emmi but at the Reverend Mother, her eyes unmoving. The Baron’s jowls shook a little as he smiled genially.
“Smile, my dear boy” He pinched Feyd’s cheek. “Can he not smile, good sister?”
Feyd’s face turned bright red and his eyes filled with tears. No no, please no-
“The boy is crying, Lady Rabban” The painter sniffed. He tapped his wooden brushes on the canvas impatiently. “I cannot begin while he is in this state”
“I am sorry-”
“Oh Gods” The Baron spat as Feyd twisted in his arms.
"Perhaps, if I-"
“The boy has-” Feyd’s cries became screams. Oh no, why! All the colour drained from her face.
The Baron was snarling. “Emmi, this is vile and now I must change, can you not control the boy-”
“I know, my Lord Baron, I apologise-”
"-disgusting, good sister"
Emmi darted forward to grab Feyd, the Baron’s eyes black with rage. She turned, seeing her disapproving audience as Feyd wailed in her ear. The Emperor’s nose was wrinkled, Fenring’s lip curled in disgust. Jessica stared down at her with that same vacant look. And Paula Atreides, his future wife, looked at Feyd with those sad green eyes as her mother held her at arms length.
Emmi moved from the room hurriedly, Feyd bawling into her breast. His shabby trousers were soggy.