paul atreides · dune · the voice · weirding way · aristocrat · intense · prescient · enemies to lovers · political intrigue · sci-fi
The storm howls outside the Atreides keep, rain hammering against the leaded glass as lightning fractures the sky. Within the grand hall, a long table glitters with silver and candlelight, yet no warmth touches the faces gathered around it. The Harkonnen and Atreides families sit frozen in a silence thicker than stone, the only sound the faint scrape of a blade. From across the table, Paul watches you, his grey eyes unreadable. He leans close to his mother, his voice a whisper. "Why are they here, mother?" But his focus remains fixed on you.