CHAPITRE VII:
The Boy of Prophecies.

"It is said that the Duke Leto blinded himself to the perils of Arrakis, that he walked heedlessly into the pit. Would it not be more likely to suggest he had lived so long in the presence of extreme danger he misjudged a change in its intensity? Or is it possible he deliberately sacrificed himself that his son might find a better life? All evidence indicates the Duke was a man not easily hoodwinked."

— from 'Muad'Dib: Family Commentaries' by the Princess Irulan

As the sun reached its zenith, casting a radiant glow over the bustling courtyard of the palace, Madhavi found herself caught in a moment of quiet reflection amidst the hustle and bustle of the palace courtyard.

Thoughts of her last interaction with Lady Jessica echoed in her mind, the enigmatic sentences lingering like shadows in the corners of her consciousness. What did the Bene Gesserit truly want from her? And what role did she play in their grand design?

"Isn't he tired to steal my father?"

Her words, laced with a hint of playful jealousy, drew a hearty chuckle from Leto and Gurney, the two men sharing a knowing glance as they observed the scene unfolding before them. They watched as the young Idaho's father embraced the young Atreides who had rushed towards him, the bond between them palpable even from a distance.

"He has so little muscle that he's still being picked up like a child," she muttered under her breath, only making the two men laugh harder.

"Come on, dove, why don't you come hug your dear old man?" her father called out, his trademark smirk playing on his lips as he extended his arms towards her.

With a playful roll of her eyes, Madhavi made her way towards him, her steps light and purposeful. "You have a daughter? I didn't know," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye as she closed the distance between them.

Their embrace was a familiar one, filled with the warmth and affection that only a father and daughter could share. In that moment, the young Idaho felt a sense of peace wash over her, a reassurance that no matter what challenges lay ahead, she would always have her father by her side.

But as she pulled away from their embrace and looked up into her father's eyes, she couldn't help but notice the flicker of concern that danced across his features. It was then that she remembered the scar that marred her cheek.

Her wound had begun to heal, thanks to the diligent care of Dr. Yueh and his balms, but the mark would always remain

"What happened? How did you get that gash?" The words sliced through the air, sharp and demanding, as Duncan Idaho's stern tone reverberated in the room. His gaze bore into his girl, yet it was evident to all present that his scrutiny extended beyond her, probing the room for answers. Paul Atreides and Madhavi shared a furtive glance, a silent exchange laden with unspoken truths that did not escape the keen eye of the sword master.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Duncan," Gurney interjected, his hand resting reassuringly on Duncan's shoulder. With a nod, he let himself be guided away from the prying eyes of the crowd, a sense of urgency tugging at his every step. Questions swirled in his mind, a whirlwind of uncertainty and apprehension, yet amidst the chaos, one question loomed larger than the rest—who would safeguard his daughter in his absence?

Meanwhile, Madhavi's attention was drawn to the figure escorted by the palace guards. Cloaked in secrecy, their identity concealed beneath layers of fabric, yet something about the way they moved stirred a flicker of recognition within her. A sense of déjà vu tinged the air, leaving her grappling with the elusive memory that danced just beyond her reach.

—

"Princess, you must grip the crysknife like this," Stilgar instructed, his voice firm but gentle as he demonstrated the proper technique. The little girl furrowed her brow in concentration, attempting to replicate his precise hand movements, but her efforts fell short, eliciting a patient smile from the seasoned warrior.

"I'll never get it right, Sti," she sighed, her expression crestfallen as she relinquished the weapon to him.

"What have I told you?" Stilgar's voice carried a hint of admonition, causing a pang of discomfort to stir in Madhavi's chest. Apart from Chani and Tyril, her uncle was her closest companion, the cornerstone of her small circle of allies.

"The strong lead, the weak bleed," she recited softly, her fingers idly toying with the end of her braid as she echoed his words.

With a silent nod of approval, Stilgar returned the crysknife to her grasp, assuming a defensive stance. Madhavi mirrored his posture, steeling herself for another round of sparring. Despite her best efforts, she found herself repeatedly thwarted by his superior size and strength, frustration mounting with each failed attempt to breach his defenses as he merely stopped her by putting a hand on her forehead.

But then, she spotted a fleeting opening, a glimmer of opportunity that she seized upon with determined precision.

"Touché," Stilgar conceded, a proud glint shimmering in his eyes as he acknowledged her success. And in that moment, as a triumphant smile graced Madhavi's lips, she knew that she had earned a small victory in the eyes of her revered mentor.

—

Madhavi strolled leisurely alongside Gurney. Despite his assurances that he had handled matters with her father, she knew a discussion loomed on the horizon—a necessary unraveling of truths that had been left concealed. The cardinal principle of an Idaho had always been transparency, yet she understood all too well the allure of hidden truths, the allure of secrecy that whispered promises of protection and power. After all, rules were meant to be bent, if not shattered entirely.

As they ambled, the distinctive figure of the Imperial Planetologist emerged on the horizon, drawing the young Idaho's gaze like a magnet. Liet Kynes, Chani's mother—her presence here was unexpected, intriguing. For a moment, their gazes intertwined, a silent exchange of recognition passing between them.

Dr. Kynes held steadfast to her identity as a scientist who viewed legends not as mystical truths, but as intriguing pathways leading to the roots of culture and history. This perspective, shaped by years of scholarly inquiry and a commitment to rational analysis, was a fundamental part of her ethos, one that she imparted to her daughter, instilling in her a skepticism towards the mystical machinations of organizations like the Bene Gesserit. However, as Madhavi observed the woman's expression, she detected a subtle shift—a glimmer of fascination in those usually rational eyes, a hint of curiosity tinged with uncertainty.

In the presence of the boy who seemed to step out of ancient prophecy, Dr. Kynes couldn't help but entertain the possibility, however remote, that there might be more to the legends than she had previously acknowledged. His resemblance to the descriptions of the prophesied figure, with his questing eyes and an aura of reserved candor, sparked a flicker of intrigue in her scholarly mind. Perhaps, amidst the rationality of her scientific worldview, there lingered a whisper of curiosity, a willingness to entertain the mysteries that lay beyond the bounds of empirical observation.

"The Mahdi will be aware of things others cannot see."

The ducal party drew nearer, their steps echoing softly against the desert sands, the rhythmic crunch of their boots harmonizing with the whisper of the wind. Kynes, ever the diplomat, inclined her head respectfully as the group approached, addressing the Duke with a formal greeting.

Madhavi observed the solitary figure standing near the ornithopter, her keen gaze tracing the contours of the woman's form. Tall and slender, she was clad in the traditional garb of the desert, her attire consisting of a flowing robe, a snug-fitting stillsuit, and sturdy low boots. Despite the practicality of her attire, there was an air of regal poise about her, a sense of quiet strength that belied her unassuming appearance. With a flick of her hand, she pushed back the hood of her robe, revealing a mane of dark hair. But it was her eyes that captured the young Idaho's attention the most—deep pools of blue-within-blue, framed by thick brows that hinted at an intensity of spirit. Though her consumption of spice deeply increased since she came back to Arrakis, her eyes of Ibad paled in comparison to the profound intensity radiating from Liet Kynes' gaze.

"You're the ecologist," the Duke said, his voice carrying a tone of authority.

"We prefer the old title here, my Lord," Kynes responded evenly, his demeanor calm and composed. "Planetologist."

"As you wish," Leto conceded, his attention briefly shifting to Paul. "Son, this is the Judge of the Change, the arbiter of dispute, the woman set here to see that the forms are obeyed in our assumption of power over this fief." He then turned back to Kynes. "And this is my son."

"My Lord," Liet acknowledged respectfully.

Paul, intrigued by Kynes' presence and role, couldn't resist asking, "Are you a Fremen too?"

She smiled, a subtle expression that hinted at a life rich with experiences. "I am accepted in both sietch and village, young Master. But I am in His Majesty's service, the Imperial Planetologist."

The young Atreides nodded, a sense of respect growing within him as he observed her demeanor. There was an undeniable air of strength about the woman, a quiet confidence that spoke volumes about his character and accomplishments.

A subtle sideways glance from Paul hinted at the tension etched on Madhavi's face as she regarded the Planetologist with an air of curiosity and wariness. Sensing her unease, Paul felt compelled to break the silence.

"This is Madhavi, daughter of Duncan Idaho," he introduced, his gaze shifting between the young Idaho and Kynes. "She's also a Fremen. Do you know her?"

Liet Kynes responded with a simple raise of her eyebrows, her gaze fixed on Madhavi, silently urging her to speak for herself. The weight of the moment seemed to hang in the air as all eyes turned to Madhavi, awaiting her response.

Feeling the weight of the collective attention, she surveyed the faces around her before exhaling softly. "Dr. Kynes and I hail from the same sietch," the young Idaho began, her voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in her chest. "Her daughter was a dear friend of mine."

A small smile graced Kynes' lips as she nodded in acknowledgment. Switching to the old tongue of Chakobsa, she remarked, "Sietch Tabr has been rather quiet since your trio got separated."

Madhavi's smile widened at the familiar words, her heart heavy with bittersweet memories of times past.

"I understand we have you to thank for our stillsuits and these cloaks," the Duke remarked, his tone conveying both gratitude and curiosity.

"I hope they fit well, my Lord," Kynes replied with a nod, a hint of pride in her voice. "They're of Fremen make and as near as possible the dimensions given me by your man Halleck here."

Leto's brows furrowed slightly at the planetologist's mention of their necessity. "I was concerned that you said we couldn't venture into the desert unless we wore these garments," he admitted. "We can carry plenty of water. We don't intend to be out long, and we'll have air cover—the escort you see overhead right now. It isn't likely we'd be forced down."

She met the Duke's gaze with a steady, unwavering stare. "You never talk of likelihoods on Arrakis. You speak only of possibilities," Liet countered, her words carrying a hint of caution.

Halleck, ever loyal to his master, bristled at her tone. "The Duke is to be addressed as my Lord or Sire!" he interjected sharply.

Leto signaled for Halleck to stand down with a subtle gesture before addressing Kynes once more. "Our ways are new here, Gurney. We must make allowances," he reminded his lieutenant before turning his attention back to Kynes. "We are indebted to you, Dr. Kynes. These suits and the consideration for our welfare will be remembered."

"Shouldn't we be going, Sire?" Gurney's inquiry punctuated the tense atmosphere, his concern evident in his voice.

The Duke's agreement was swift. "I'll fly my own 'thopter. Kynes can sit up front with me to direct me. You, Madhavi and Paul take the rear seats," he directed, outlining the plan.

But Liet intervened before they could proceed. "One moment, please," she requested, her tone firm yet respectful. "With your permission, Sire, I must check the security of your suits."

The sudden tension in the air was palpable as Gurney and the other guards instinctively drew their weapons, ready to spring into action. Madhavi couldn't help but roll her eyes dramatically at their overzealousness. After all, who would be foolish enough to attempt an attack on the Duke in broad daylight?

Leto Atreides, ever the voice of reason, intervened swiftly, placing a calming hand on his Warmaster's shoulder. With a subtle gesture, he coaxed the chief officer to lower his weapon, defusing the situation before it could escalate. Meanwhile, Dr. Kynes began her meticulous inspection of the two men's suits, her explanation of their significance providing a brief respite from the tension that hung heavy in the air.

As she turned her attention towards Madhavi, her smile widened, a glimmer of contentment evident in her eyes. It was a silent acknowledgment of their shared heritage, a connection forged by their mutual understanding of Fremen customs and traditions.

The girl returned the smile, feeling a surge of warmth at the familiar gesture. Despite the passage of time and the distance that had separated them, it was clear that Liet was pleased to see that Madhavi had not forgotten the ways of their people.

"As expected," she remarked, her voice tinged with satisfaction. It was a simple phrase, yet it carried a wealth of meaning.

Kynes then turned her attention to Paul, her gaze assessing as she examined the young man's stillsuit.

He remained composed as the planetologist inspected the garment, recalling the unfamiliar sensation of donning the stillsuit. Despite never having worn one before, every adjustment felt instinctive, as if he had an innate understanding of its mechanics. Each motion, guided by Gurney's unseasoned hands, felt natural.

As she stepped back, a puzzled expression crossed her face. "You've worn a stillsuit before?" she inquired, her tone betraying his confusion. Paul shook his head. "This is the first time."

The planetologist's eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. "Then someone adjusted it for you?" he pressed further, seeking clarification. Paul's response was resolute. "No."

Continuing her examination, noting the precise adjustments made to the young Atreides' desert boots. "Your desert boots are fitted slip-fashion at the ankles. Who told you to do that?" she questioned, her curiosity piqued by the meticulous detail.

Kynes regarded Paul with a mixture of curiosity and admiration as the young man explained his intuitive adjustments to the stillsuit. "It... seemed the right way," he responded, his tone reflecting both certainty and humility.

The planetologist nodded in agreement, a faint smile playing on her lips. "That it most certainly is," she affirmed, acknowledging his natural aptitude for adapting to the ways of Arrakis.

A contemplative expression crossed Liet's features as she gently rubbed her cheek, lost in thought. Madhavi, observing the exchange with a wary gaze, sensed a subtle shift in the planetologist's demeanor. The Missionaria Protectiva's veil seemed to descend over her thoughts, its wicked tendrils gnawing at her usual clarity and resolve.

"He shall know your ways as though born to them."

"We waste time," the Duke said, gesturing to the waiting 'thopter, leading the way, accepting the guard's salute with a nod. He climbed in, fastened his safety harness, checked controls and instruments. The craft creaked as the others clambered aboard.

Madhavi, too, fastened her harness, her attention drawn to the comforting embrace of the aircraft's interior. The plush gray-green upholstery enveloped her, offering a stark contrast to the harsh desert landscape awaiting them outside. Gleaming instruments dotted the cockpit, their polished surfaces reflecting the intensity of the desert sun. With each breath, she savored the sensation of filtered and washed air filling her lungs, a brief respite from the arid desert air.

"All secure, Sire," Halleck's voice broke through the hum of activity, signaling their readiness for departure. With a determined resolve, the Duke powered up the wings, feeling them cup and dip as they lifted off the ground. The 'thopter soared into the sky with a graceful elegance, its afterjets propelling them upward in a swift ascent.

"Southeast over the Shield Wall," Kynes's voice directed their course, cutting through the rush of wind.

"Right."

Sand stretched endlessly across the horizon, a monotonous expanse that seemed to mock the passing travelers with its uniformity. Madhavi found herself sinking into a state of profound boredom, reminiscent of the times when Paul would regale her with mundane details of his day—an ordeal she endured with forced patience. With a heavy sigh, she tore her gaze away from the featureless landscape and glanced down at the fractured terrain of the Shield Wall.

Below, the landscape was a patchwork of rugged terrain, with chasms of tortured rock gouging deep into the earth, their jagged edges stark against the muted backdrop of yellow-brown sand. Black lines of fault crisscrossed the landscape, tracing paths of destruction through the desolate expanse. It was as if some cosmic force had hurled the earth itself from the heavens, leaving it to shatter upon impact and scatter in chaotic disarray.

As their ornithopter kimmed over a shallow basin, Madhavi noticed a distinct line of gray sand cutting across the landscape, emanating from a canyon opening to the south. Like fingers reaching out from the earth, the sandy tendrils stretched into the basin, forming a dry delta against the backdrop of darker rock formations. The contrast between the stark sands and the rugged rocks created a hauntingly beautiful tableau.

The young Idaho felt a subtle tap on her thigh, drawing her attention away from the landscape stretching endlessly before them. She turned to find Paul's hands moving in the intricate patterns of the Atreides battle language, questioning her with a furrowed brow.

"Why did you look at her like that?" Paul signed, his fingers dancing through the familiar motions.

Madhavi hesitated for a moment, studying the fluid movements of the young Atreides' hands before responding with a touch of defiance in her own gestures.

"Mind your own business," she signed back, her expression guarded.

"You live in my house," he countered.

"And you're scavenging a drug in my desert," the young Idaho shot back, her hands moving with a sharpness that would've matched the edge in her voice.

A flicker of frustration crossed Paul's features as he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated by Madhavi's retort. Unfazed, she allowed a sneer to tug at the corners of her lips, her defiance unyielding in the face of his inquiry.

"Dust cloud ahead, Sire," Gurney announced, his voice cutting through the steady hum of the 'thopter's engines as he leaned forward in his seat.

"I see it, Gurney," the Duke acknowledged, his gaze fixed ahead on the horizon.

"That's what we seek," Kynes interjected, her tone carrying a note of certainty.

Paul craned his neck upward, straining to catch a glimpse of the approaching phenomenon. A rolling yellow cloud loomed on the desert surface, some thirty kilometers distant, catching the sunlight in a mesmerizing display.

"One of your factory crawlers," the planetologist explained, her voice carrying over the drone of the aircraft. "It's on the surface, and that means it's on spice. The cloud is vented sand being expelled after the spice has been centrifugally removed. There's no other cloud quite like it."

Madhavi's brow furrowed in a mixture of surprise and suspicion as she surveyed the scene before her. It was unusual, to say the least, that the Harkonnen had opted to leave the machines in place. The decision seemed to defy logic, hinting at a deeper motive.

Leto nodded thoughtfully, his mind already calculating their next move. "Aircraft over it," he instructed.

"I see two... three... four spotters," Dr. Kynes reported, her eyes scanning the horizon keenly. "They're watching for wormsign."

"Wormsign?" the Duke echoed, a note of curiosity entering his voice as he sought clarification.

"A sandwave moving toward the crawler. They'll have seismic probes on the surface, too," Liet answered, her tone grave with caution. "Worms sometimes travel too deep for the wave to show."

Madhavi's gaze darted anxiously across the horizon, searching for any indication of the impending threat. The absence of the carryall wing, typically a reassuring presence in such situations, only heightened her sense of unease.

"The worm always comes, eh?" Halleck's voice broke through the tension.

"Always," Kynes affirmed solemnly, her gaze sweeping the sky in search of any sign of the elusive aircraft.

"Is that wormsign?" the Leto's voice cut through the silence, drawing everyone's attention to the distant horizon.

With bated breath, the young Idaho leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the telltale disturbance in the sand hinted at the approach of the colossal sandworm. Beside her, Paul and Gurney crowded together, their expressions tense with anticipation.

As the sandworm loomed closer, its massive form cresting over the dunes like a towering wave, Madhavi couldn't help but feel a sense of awe mingled with dread. The sight of the behemoth creature stirred primal instincts within her, reminding her of some event that happened a while ago.

"It's a worm, a big one," the planetologist confirmed, her voice tinged with resignation.

The young Atreides peered down from the ornithopter's indow, his gaze drawn to the scene unfolding below. Below, the factory crawler lay like a metallic monster amidst the endless expanse of sand, its angular form stark against the golden dunes. From this vantage point, the crawler resembled a colossal beetle, its tan and blue exterior gleaming in the harsh sunlight. Paul could see the tracks of its massive appendages, extending outward like the legs of an insect, leaving imprints in the sand as it moved across the desert floor.

Madhavi's suspicions ripened into grim certainty as the scenario unfolded before her eyes. With a sickening lurch, one of the anchors securing the evacuation platform snapped. Below them, the telltale tremors in the sand signaled the relentless approach of a sandworm, its massive form looming ominously on the horizon. The men on the platform were oblivious to the impending danger, their lives hanging in the balance as they toiled unaware of the peril that lurked just beneath the shifting sands.

Leto Atreides's voice cut through the tension, his eyes locked on the lumbering harvester as it churned through the sand. "How many men on that crawler?" his question hung heavy in the air, probing for crucial details amidst the chaos of the moment.

"How many men on that crawler?" the Duke inquired, his gaze fixed on the harvester.

"Crew of twenty-one,"

"Our ships can take six each."

As Paul disembarked from the ornithopter, Madhavi's words tumbled out in a hurried whisper, laden with a weight of concern that she struggled to conceal. "Don't die," she uttered, the urgency in her voice belying the depth of her worry. It was a simple plea, a fervent wish wrapped in the fragile hope that her words would somehow shield him from the dangers that lurked in the unforgiving desert.

The young Atreides' response was a disarming smile, a radiant beam that illuminated his features with an infectious warmth. Madhavi rolled her eyes at his behaviour, crossing her arms as she regretted even spitting out those words.

As a silence fell upon the interior of the ornithopter, a playful glint danced in the young Idaho's eyes. "Leto, quick question," she interjected, her tone laced with intrigue, "have you really decided to name your son Paul?"

The duke's response was punctuated by a subtle blend of exasperation and amusement, "Jessica chose it," Leto replied simply, his voice carrying a note of affection as he spoke of his beloved concubine.

Madhavi nodded thoughtfully, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips as she settled back into her seat. "I thought so too," she remarked. "It's definitely her style."

Such a curious choice, wasn't it, to settle on the name Paul for their son? Amidst the multitude of names swirling in her mind, Lady Jessica had ultimately chosen Paul—a decision that mirrored her own father's name, intriguingly enough.

The immense jet of sand ejected by the sandworm held the young Idaho transfixed, drawing her closer to the window with the fascination of a child witnessing a spectacle. Her gaze remained fixed on the colossal creature, but a flicker of concern tugged at her as she  slid a look in front of her, noticing Paul Atreides amidst the swirling sand, unmasked and seemingly vulnerable.

"What the hell is he doing?" she muttered to herself, her brow furrowing in confusion and apprehension.

Then, a voice—a whisper in her mind—echoed with an unsettling clarity: "Kwisatz Haderach."

The words jolted Madhavi, causing her to glance around at her fellow crew members, who appeared oblivious to the strange utterance. But the urgency in the voice was unmistakable.

"Kwisatz Haderach awakes."

As he sank to his knees, visibly weakened and consumed by some unseen force, the young Idaho's instincts screamed at her to act. Ignoring Leto's frantic shouts, she abandoned her book and bolted towards the exit, propelled by a mixture of concern and frustration.

"Stupid boy," she muttered under her breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she emerged into the swirling sandstorm.

With sand stinging her face and obscuring her vision, Madhavi scanned the chaotic landscape, her eyes darting frantically in search of the fallen figure of Paul Atreides.

"Atreides!"

Her voice sliced through the chaos, but it seemed to be swallowed by the roaring winds of the desert as she sprinted towards him, her heart pounding with each stride.

Running, running ever faster to escape the relentless grip of fate.

"Paul! Paul, get up, you brainless worm!"

Her words were lost in the howling wind, but she pressed on.

"You came for me," he murmured weakly, his voice strained from the exertion of inhaling the heavy spice-laden air.

"You dumbass," she snapped, a mixture of frustration and relief coursing through her veins. "I would have killed you myself if you died. Now stop playing lover boy and get up!"

With deliberate care, she looped her arm around his neck, hoisting him up, and together they stumbled forward, propelled by urgency and desperation.

I take back what I said, she thought fleetingly. His muscles are without a doubt hidden.

Running, running ever faster to outpace the greedy jaws of destiny.

—

Leaning against the cool bronze wall of the dimly lit room, Madhavi observed Dr. Yueh's movements, her brow furrowed in thought. Lady Jessica stood nearby, her expression etched with concern as she monitored the doctor's examination of her son, Paul.

The young Atreides had narrowly escaped a perilous fate, his body reeling from the effects of a potent dose of spice that threatened to overwhelm his senses.

"Spice is a psychoactive chemical," Dr. Yueh explained, his voice calm yet tinged with a hint of concern. His hands hovered over Paul's neck, his touch gentle yet deliberate. "You seem to be sensitive. You'll be fine."

Jessica, visibly relieved by the doctor's reassurance, finally turned her attention to Madhavi, who stood at a distance, her posture rigid with tension.

"You should also examine Madhavi, Dr. Yueh," Lady Jessica suggested. "She too-"

"I'm fine, I don't need someone to tell me that," the young Idaho interjected sharply, her words laced with defiance as she moved away from the wall and toward the window, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon.

Sensing her reluctance, Jessica hesitated for a moment before nodding to the Suk Doctor, silently signaling an end to his examination. With a polite nod, he took his leave, his footsteps echoing softly against the sterile walls as he departed the room.

"That wasn't an allergic reaction," Paul said suddenly, still sitting on his bed. "I had a vision."

Madhavi's muscles tensed instinctively at the mere mention of the word "vision," a cold sweat breaking out on her brow as memories of her own unsettling experiences flooded her mind. She shifted uncomfortably, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her crysknife as she struggled to suppress the rising sense of unease that threatened to consume her.

"My eyes were wide open," Paul continued, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Lady Jessica's gentle inquiry broke the stillness like a fragile whisper. "What did you see?"

The girl's fingers stilled around the hilt of her crysknife as Leto's concubine's question pierced the silence, drawing her attention away from the rhythmic pattern of her movements. For a moment, she remained lost in her own thoughts, oblivious to the two pairs of eyes that bore into her like twin flames.

It was only when the weight of their gaze became too heavy to bear that Madhavi raised her head, her senses tingling with the awareness of their scrutiny. She found herself ensnared by the piercing gaze of Jessica, her eyes alight with a silent demand for answers. Beside her, Paul's expression was inscrutable, his gaze fixed on her with a quiet intensity.

In that moment, realization dawned upon Madhavi like a sudden burst of sunlight through storm clouds. She understood the implications of his vision—he saw her again.

Again? I'm really starting to think he's a bit obsessed.

"I heard the voices," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "but I saw nothing." Her words lingered in the air as she added "Congratulations though, I guess."

Maybe she won't try to kill off this one because of her antics.

Lady Jessica's expression fell, a mixture of dismay and uncertainty clouding her features, while Paul hastened to address the revelation. "I know you're pregnant," he interjected.

The disbelief was evident in his mother's response as she turned to him, her brows furrowing in confusion. "You can't know that. I barely know that. It's only been a few weeks," she protested.

He remained silent, his gaze fixed intently on Madhavi, who sat at the end of the bed with an inscrutable expression. In front of his silence, Jessica redirected her attention to the young woman, her confusion evident in her voice as she remarked, "You said you didn't see anything."

Madhavi met her gaze with a steady stare, her own thoughts swirling tumultuously beneath the surface. After a moment of contemplative silence, she finally spoke, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "I just know it," she replied cryptically, offering no further explanation as she once again retreated into her own thoughts.

Child of the desert, heed the call,
For in your veins, the echoes of history enthral.

IZIA'S NOTE

no memes today, but i hope you liked the chapter, and don't forget to vote, comment and share!!

thank you for reading and see you soon! ❤️

© ADONYSIAC ― IZIA™