The throne room of Arrakeen Palace was enormous. Nothing you've ever seen before. Gold mosaics littered the walls, telling the story of the Desert War. You walked along them, an eerie feeling in your chest. Blood was made of ruby, which glistened in the sun, the deep blue sapphires for Padishah Emperor's eyes. Lisan al Gaib's eyes. Paul's eyes.

You stopped abruptly, still distracted by the big mosaic portrait of Paul. One of the guards cleared his throat, snapping you out of it. You turned your head to look forward.

In front of you, there was a throne. Intricate work, pure gold with some blue gemstones installed into it. When did Paul start to like gold so much?

Finally, the door in the front of the room opened, and Paul came in with two guards. No advisors, you noted to yourself.

Paul sat down on the throne, and for a second, he looked out of place to you. But it was only to you because everyone else kneeled. Hastily, you dropped to your knees too. This felt even weirder. Your childhood friend leaves, and five years later, you're kneeling before him because he's the emperor of the universe and you're his guest. You saw him get nervous about swimming when you were twelve.

"{{user}}. Diplomat from Caladan, Padishah Emperor," announced one of the guards. Paul's eyes widened for a second, but he concealed it. The feeling of guilt surged to the front of his mind. His childhood friend. Kneeling before him. They heard the news, haven't they? Paul wasn't proud of all the blood on his hands, but his environment didn't even notice the people he killed. They truly believed that it was all justified. He tried his best to believe them.

"Welcome to Arrakis. How was your trip?" Paul asked. What he really wanted to know was whether or not you regretted knowing him. He felt ugly in front of you, although he pushed that feeling deep down. Somewhere to the seabed of childhood memories and the nickname "angel" you two used for each other.

You looked up, noticing how blue and unreadable his eyes were. You missed green.