Jessica took his hand. “I have no answers for your questions, my Duke. I only know that I will miss you terribly.”
The Duke’s throat tightened. Unable to speak, his only response was to pull Jessica into his arms and hold her tightly.
The fact that any family in the Imperium could deploy its atomics to destroy the planetary bases of fifty or more Great Houses need not concern us overmuch. It is a situation we can hold in check. If we remain strong enough.
— EMPEROR FONDIL III
In light of the importance of the day’s announcement, Shaddam IV had commanded that the Golden Lion Throne be moved back into the opulent Imperial Audience Chamber. Wearing a carmine robe, he sat on the heavy block of carved crystal, looking and feeling truly regal as he anticipated the reaction of the Landsraad.
After this, the unruly Houses will know they ignore me at their peril.
From behind the closed doors that led into the vast room, he could hear the murmur of impatient representatives who had been summoned here. He couldn’t wait to see their faces when they learned what he had done to Zanovar.
Shaddam’s pomaded red hair glistened beneath the glowglobes. He took a long drink of spice coffee from a delicate china cup, studied the fine patterns hand-painted on its surface. The precious cup would be destroyed, like everything on Zanovar. He formed his powdered face into a terrible, paternal frown. He would not smile today, no matter how pleased he felt.
Emerging from one of the secret corridors, Lady Anirul entered the Audience Chamber, her chin held high. She walked directly toward the throne, undaunted by the magisterial decor. Shaddam muttered under his breath, cursing his lack of foresight for not closing off all entrances to the room. He would have to discuss the matter with Chamberlain Ridondo.
“My husband and Emperor.” She approached the base of the dais and gazed up at the legendary throne. “Before you begin, there is a matter I must discuss with you.” Anirul’s bronze-brown hair was freshly coiffed and secured by a golden clasp. “Do you know the significance of this year?”
Shaddam wondered what schemes the Bene Gesserit had developed behind his back. “Why, it is 10,175. If you cannot consult an Imperial Calendar for yourself, one of my courtiers could easily have informed you of the date. Now be about your business, as I have an important announcement to make.”
Anirul stood unruffled. “It is a centenary, marking the death of your father’s second wife, Yvette Hagal-Corrino.”
The Emperor’s eyebrows shifted as he tried to follow her line of thought. Damn her! What has this to do with my overwhelming success on Zanovar? “If that is true, we have all year to celebrate this anniversary. Today I have a decree to announce to the Landsraad.”
His meddling wife would not be swayed. “What do you know of Yvette?”
Why do women persist in matters of little import at the moment of greatest inconvenience? “I have no time for a family history quiz.”
But under her steady, doe-eyed stare, he pondered for a moment, while glancing at the ornate Ixian chrono on the wall. The representatives would never expect him to begin on time anyway. “Yvette died years before I was born. Since she was not my mother, I never bothered much with her. There must be filmbooks in the Imperial Library, if you would like to learn—”
“During his long reign your father had four wives, and he permitted only Yvette to sit beside him on a throne of her own. It is said that she was the only noblewoman he ever truly loved.”
Love? What does that have to do with Imperial marriages? “Apparently, my father also had a deep affection for one of his concubines, but he didn’t realize it until she decided to marry Dominic Vernius.” He scowled. “Are you trying to draw comparisons? Do you want me to profess my affection for you? What sort of question are you asking?”
“It is a wife’s question. It is also a husband’s question.” Anirul waited at the base of the dais, still looking up at him. “I want my own throne in here, beside yours, Shaddam— as your father had for his favorite wife.”
The Emperor slurped half of his spice coffee to calm himself. Another throne in here? Though he’d assigned his Sardaukar spies to watch Anirul, they had not found anything incriminating yet, and probably never would. The veils of Bene Gesserit secrecy were not easily penetrated.
He weighed possibilities and options. Reminding the