Lady Jessica! I still send her romantic favors. Nothing imminently lethal, just little trifles to show I care.
My greatest, single achievement made moot by the very prize my Baron promised me? Name a more exquisite agony. I accomplished the impossible. I broke the Imperial Conditioning of a Suk doctor — all to be thwarted by the Bene Gesserit senses of Lady Jessica.
And yet, the setback offered its own prize: this War of Assassins, this endless intrigue. What better waters for one such as I to swim? What better whetstone to sharpen my poison-slicked wit?
As a Mentat, I know when the Baron will send the executioner. He will hold back just so long as I am useful. In the meantime, I must collect assets unknown to him. Simone von Konig is a promising start. There is a point in the time line, in this War of Assassins, where the arcs of my usefulness and my dangerousness intersect. At that moment, I must act.
And then?
Lady Jessica! I must adore her. I must punish her.