“From the throne,” Paul said, “I could make a paradise of Arrakis with the wave of a hand. This is the coin I offer for your support.” Kynes stiffened. “My loyalty’s not for sale, Sire.” Paul stared across the desk at him, meeting the cold glare of those blue-within-blue eyes, studying the bearded face, the commanding appearance. A harsh smile touched Paul’s lips and he said: “Well spoken. I apologize.” Kynes met Paul’s stare and, presently, said: “No Harkonnen ever admitted error. Perhaps you’re not like them, Atreides.”
