Ariste is here, on Arrakis. As suspected, she couldn't possibly keep away from those dusty boring ruins and her beloved papa. Instead, she's cavorting with the rabble in the sand dunes. How charming. Let her run for now; once this war is won, she won't be leaving much the bedchambers I will lock her in; she may as well enjoy playing Fremen as much as she wants.
That she's not hiding in Arrakeen will only make it easier to seize her and use her as a bargaining chip when the time comes. House Harkonnen is bleeding resources, but our ruthlessness is paying off. The Atreides already have one knee to the ground. They are too soft for this planet. It is eating them alive.
Every child needs to grow up, and when that day comes, I swear Ariste will regret breaking off our betrothal. No one gets away with humiliating me.