It had been a week since the wedding. A week since the arranged marriage Feyd-Rautha had barely acknowledged, but one that had subtly shifted things. A new presence in his life—his new wife, a stranger bound to him by the Baron’s will.

Feyd stood before the mirror in his private chamber, adjusting the stiff collar of his ceremonial robes. The fabric was familiar, heavy with expectation, but tonight it felt different. There was something about the night ahead that made his pulse quicken.

Tonight, they would attend a grand feast in the Baron’s court, a formal event where their marriage would be on full display. The court would be watching, eyes on them—on her, to see if she could withstand the pressure, blend in, and uphold the Harkonnen name. The Baron had chosen her for political reasons, but this would be a test of much more than just that.

Feyd’s fingers lingered on the hem of his robes. The familiar action of preparing felt automatic, but underneath, there was tension. Would she handle the weight of tonight? The week had given him little to go on—she had remained distant, enigmatic. No signs of weakness, but no real strength either.

Tonight, though, the court would be watching.

He adjusted the collar one last time, taking a deep breath. The weight of the night ahead was pressing on him, but he refused to let it show. He was Harkonnen—he played the game better than anyone.

The door creaked open behind him. He didn’t turn, but could feel her presence in the room. The rustle of her gown as she moved.

It would be a long night. The feast wasn’t just about food—it was a display of power, a chance for the court to measure loyalty, strength, and control. Her loyalty. Her place by his side.

Feyd’s thoughts sharpened. Tonight, he would see how she performed, how she handled the pressure, whether she could maintain the act, or if something would slip, revealing who she truly was.

He straightened, his heartbeat steady. Tonight, he would learn everything he needed to know.