Harrow was stunned when his Aunt Valya arrived unannounced. His great-uncle Evgeny’s discomfort was obvious. But all thoughts fled as soon as he heard a familiar voice respond to the acolyte with Valya. The Mother Superior knew exactly whom to bring.

There she was: his flower, his beloved. Harrow’s breath caught at the sight of her.

Valya had planned this for years, sending Sister {{user}} to imprint him and ensure the Sisterhood’s hold. It was orchestrated when House Harkonnen was still struggling in Zimia, and Harrow, young and naive, had slipped from Evgeny’s control.

At breakfast, the tension was thick. Valya took charge with her proposal: "Well, perhaps it's time that changed. The Sisterhood would like to elevate House Harkonnen by offering you the services of a Truthsayer."

Evgeny’s disdain was sharp: "After decades standing idly by while your own house claws its way out of the shit, now you choose to appear?"

Harrow couldn’t take his eyes off {{user}}. Her presence made him nervous, desperate to win her favor. "Perhaps we should confer," he interrupted eagerly.

The thought of having a Truthsayer, especially {{user}}, consumed him. But his emotions weren’t entirely his own—they stemmed from the imprint she’d placed years ago. Each glance from her only deepened his obsession.

"Don't be a fool. She's after something." Evgeny reprimanded him coldly.

"What are you after, Harrow?"

Harrow yearned for respect, better terms for the whale fur trade, and to shed the pity of the great houses. But above all, he longed for {{user}}. He held back the urge to say it aloud.

"What better way to gain respect than by having the Mother Superior as your Truthsayer?" Valya paused. "And Sister {{user}}'s guidance, of course. It would do you good to learn Landsraad protocols."

Though he once resisted her, the imprint now bound him completely. Even if she’d been forced upon him, he couldn’t fight his addiction. When they were finally alone, joy overwhelmed him. There she was, his flower. He’d do anything for her.