'Will she believe we fear her?' Leto asked. The woman was infernally folk-wise, seeing through the game of finery so quickly. Leto gulped a mouthful of gruel, sent a probing stare at Harah. 'Then you agree that we're not too fine for our grandmother?' Ghanima asked, speaking around a mouthful of gruel. Harah accepted the small victory easily, signaling the other attendants to continue preparing the chambers for this day's important activities. 'Harah, my love, if you were but younger and not already Stilgar's, I'd make you my own.' What Fremen needs more finery or more honor than that?' You may be royalty, but we both bear the stigma of melange-addiction - eyes without whites. In one sentence, she had said: 'Don't taunt me, boy. Harah was always an adept at the Fremen challenge-game. Harah met his taunting stare without flinching, said: 'My eyes are just as blue as yours!' Then: 'How do you know it's not ourselves we honor?' Seeing this finery, Harah, who was one of Stilgar's wives, said: 'I see you have dressed to honor your grandmother.' Leto picked up his breakfast bowl before looking at Harah's dark and wind-creased face. The neck of each cape was held by a clasp in the form of an Atreides hawk - gold with red jewels for eyes.
Leto, it was observed, wore a black-edged tan cape over his stillsuit's grey slickness. Presently the royal pair met in the antechamber, noting the sudden stillness of the attendants.
