Sorrow | Dune | Gurney Halleck

Chapter Eleven

Mildred cocked her head. "Your jacket?"

"I saw you shiver."

"Oh." She whispered. "Um, if you...insist."

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly in amusement causing the scar on his cheek to move with it. He shrugged the jacket off and helped her put it on. It must have been a ridiculous outfit she bore; her nightgown, robe and Gurney's jacket. She didn't care though. It was warm and smelled of him. Like the cleaning oil they used to clean the weapons and a hint of spice to it.

"Thank you." She mumbled.

"You're welcome, Millie."

Millie. He had called her Millie. Never in all the years he had known her had he called her by the nickname. It was mostly her family that used it and Duncan when he was teasing her. "You called me Millie."

"I apologize, my lady." He sounded embarrassed. "It just came out."

She shook her head. "Don't. It sounds...nice when you say it."

They both traded small smiles before looking out at the water again. Occasionally, she would steal glances at him, but he remained unmoving. He probably wouldn't leave until she did, just to make sure she got home safe.

"Are you enjoying the book?" Gurney asked.

"I am. I'm already half way through." She admitted. "My favorite poem so far is one about two people, two lovers that can't be together. It's sad, but beautiful in a way."

"Would you like to share it with me?" He asked curiously.

"I would love too. I don't have quite the poetic voice that you have though." She began.

"Soft downy feathers
against my filthy, sinning scales
your beak against my ear
breathing desperation
and desire in one single sigh
the other creatures in the yard
they will never comprehend
the roosters are expecting you
the sheep, those gossips,
spread the details of our affair
across the whole farmyard
I'm not welcome here -
never been, never will -
but neither the dogs nor the rifles
not even natural instinct
will put an end to our love."

Gurney listened to every word she spoke as if it were oxygen to him. The poem he thought was quite fitting. A Warmaster and a Duchess. Never could the two work. It was why he didn't understand the dream he had. Fate, duty, the Imperium, it would all tear them apart at any given chance. Instead of speaking what he was saying he just said that he liked it.

"I think I'm growing tired now." She spoke. "Is there anyway you could walk me back? Who knows what dangers lie in the shadows."

He chuckled at her unserious tone. "I think I could do that."

He bent down to slip his shoes back on and they started walking back. It would be morning soon. They would both most likely be tired, but at least Mildred could sleep in. He wouldn't have a choice. While the guards noticed the two of them walking, none of them uttered a single word to the pair. Who knew what they were all thinking?

"Thank you for your jacket." Mildred told him as she pulled it off and handed it back to him. "And the conversation."

"Of course." He said.

She glanced up at him, capturing his eyes in her gaze. She wanted to reach up and feel the roughness of his skin like she did in her dreams. She wanted to pull him into her room and see if he was as good as she dreamt. But she wouldn't. There would be consequences if she did.

"Well, good night, Gurney."

"Good night, Millie." He told her.

****
Morning did not come easy for Mildred. In fact, she laid in bed for hours. She ate breakfast in bed which was something she hardly did. Maybe her parents figured that she drank a bit too much last night and were allowing her to sleep in a little. She would have to get up eventually though. She didn't dream of Gurney last night. Perhaps last night, at ocean, was more than enough for her heart.

Her hair was a tangled mess from the wind as she attempted to brush through it. There was really no use until she showered. After a shower she slipped on a sage colored, satin dress. It was an everyday dress she kept on hand if she wasn't planning on changing her outfit that day. The castle felt quiet as she walked through it. Everyone was probably in their respective places.

Her mother was either with Paul or in her Morning room. Her father would most likely be in his office. Paul would either be learning or training. She would do whatever her father needed her to do. The training room was where she was headed. If it was empty she would practice on the dummies. If it wasn't, she would watch from the balcony above.

The sounds of a blade hitting a shield indicated that the training took was being used. As she walked closer to the edge of the balcony she found it was Gurney training some young soldier, probably no older than her. She watched the way he moved with grace, power and fury at the same time. She heard someone walking from behind and turned to see Paul standing there.

He stood next to her, his hands clasped behind his back. "Are you going to tell him you like him?"

Mildred's head had never turned faster in her life to look at someone. "What?"

"Millie, come on, it's clear you like Gurney." He spoke a bit too loudly for her comfort.

If he wasn't her brother, she probably would have slapped him. Instead she dragged him by the arm to a small hallway. "Are you an idiot, Paul? You can't just walk around saying things like that!"

Paul shrunk back slightly. "Mildred, I have watched you meet more boys and men in your lifetime, but you have never looked at any of them the way you look at Gurney. I think he may feel the same way too. He always sits up a little straighter when you walk in the room or smiles a little brighter."

"You're thirteen, Paul. You don't have the mental capability to think about these things. You shouldn't be. I'm perfectly able to find a partner." She argued with him.

"I'm not an idiot."

"I didn't say you were. I'm implying that you, Paul, have no idea the ramifications that would occur if I was to..." she stopped herself. "I can't. I can't tell him even if it were true."

"So, you'll marry someone you'd be miserable with?" He asked.

"If it's better for our family, I will." She answered. "Now, let's please drop this and don't you dare tell mom or dad about this conversation."

She could feel herself panicking. If her thirteen year old brother was starting to catch on that meant others were starting to as well.