WALLACH IX WAS ALL SHE HAD EVER KNOWN. from the cradle to the altar, no mother had soothed her cries, no father had taught her to control them. only the faith of the sisterhood had nursed her to sleep on stormy nights, only the cold strike of the reverend mother's palm against her cheek had guided her when she dared refuse to sit still, pray and obey. RHANIA. "angry, sorrowful, sullen child.", they called her. her name, the one of a girl-saint in the page of the orange catholic bible that the reverend mother had retrieved in the cradle where the squalling child lay. torn from the binding, just like the veins of her mother, also girl of the sisterhood, who had committed the act upon seeing her sisters arrive to retrieve the child, the page had been tightly clenched in the babe's fist as she cried for someone to retrieve her. to love her. to hold her. to take her away from the room where her mother lay bleeding and dying, the blood running from her wrists now marring the girl's brow, anointing her for no more than a life of sorrow. bound to be no more than the short thread her existence represented in the grand scale of the bene-gesserit's plans, the girl had never been able to accept the fatality of what life she had been promised to. THE LADY RHANIA BELIEVED SHE KNEW WHAT FATE AWAITED HER. born of anonymous progenitors, raised in the faith of the sisterhood from the moment she could cry to the moment she would say "i do", no more and no less of a fate awaited her than that of a concubine, or a wife. she would bear the children of a high born lord, as instructed by the sisterhood, and would stand by his side, though not close enough to dare eclipse him, in order to enact the will of the reverend mother through another great house of the empire. ALL THIS FOR THE PROMISE OF ONE DAY BRINGING FORTH THE KWISATZ HADERACH.