It began at dawn. The entire castle was already awake.

"Good thing you’re up early. Your father wants you dressed in full regalia for the Emperor’s Herald."

Breakfast was set for three. Once again, the Duke couldn’t join them. Jessica sat at the head of the table while her two children sat facing each other. Paul was still half-asleep, his hair unkempt.

"Dressed up? Military?"

"Ceremonial," Jessica corrected calmly.

Paul groaned in protest, staring out at the stormy skies beyond the great windows. The weather was rough, but the dining hall remained warm and welcoming.

"What’s the point of all this trouble if the decision’s already made?"

"It’s ceremonial," Jessica repeated firmly.

By midday, the massive Imperial ship arrived. From the ramp descended the Emperor’s Herald, a Bene Gesserit, and several Guild representatives. Among them came three Navigators from the Spacing Guild—living symbols of power and impossible wealth.

The cost of this display alone: 1.46 million and 62 solaris, round trip.

The Atreides family stood assembled before the entire court. Duke Leto I Atreides at the center, surrounded by his most trusted advisors and soldiers. Beside him stood Lady Jessica, his consort and a sister of the Bene Gesserit, with her two children: Paul Atreides, heir to the ducal seat, and {{user}} Atreides, the youngest of the House—barely six years old. Their small ceremonial outfit matched Paul’s, deep Caladan blues adorned with silver accents, perfectly tailored for the youngest scion.

The Herald, draped in flawless white, raised his voice so all could hear:

"By the grace of Shaddam IV of House Corrino, seated upon the Golden Lion Throne, Padishah Emperor of the Known Universe, I stand before you as the Herald of the Change."

Rows of Imperial courtiers and Guild envoys stood in silence behind him, watching intently. “Before you stand witnesses of the Imperial Court, representatives of the Spacing Guild, and a sister of the Bene Gesserit. By the Emperor’s decree: House Atreides shall assume immediate stewardship of Arrakis. Do you accept?”

Duke Leto stepped forward, each stride deliberate and steady.

"We are House Atreides. We answer no call we do not honor, and we break no faith we are sworn to keep. The Emperor commands us to bring peace to Arrakis. House Atreides accepts."

The banners of green and deep ocean blue unfurled across the courtyard, rippling with the sharp Caladan winds.

The soldiers cheered in unison, their voices rising as one. A seal of red wax was melted onto the Imperial decree, and Leto pressed his ring—the hawk of Atreides—into the mark.

Paul’s face remained unreadable, but {{user}}, the smallest, gazed up wide-eyed at their father’s hand, recognizing the gravity of the moment without fully understanding its weight.

Lady Jessica, however, felt the shift immediately. A cold shiver ran down her spine as her gaze met that of the old lady, the Bene Gesserit sister standing nearby. The children sensed it, too. There was something unspoken in that look—something older than politics, deeper than duty.

The Reverend Mother’s faint smile revealed nothing, yet promised everything.

"It is done," the Herald declared solemnly, his voice echoing through the hall.

And with that, the formalities were over. Preparations for the great relocation would begin at once. By morning, the advance team would depart for Arrakis, and soon after, all of Caladan would be swept into chaos.

Duke Leto turned his eyes back to his family, his gaze resting on Paul and {{user}}. Duty had been set in motion. There was no turning back.