Sheeana shifts, stirs, comes to wakefulness. Conditioned reflexes cause her to sweep her feet under herself and come to the posture of readiness, prepared for violence.

Her eyes, the same blue within blue as Ghanima's go wide with surprise, no mean feat for a Bene Gesserit. Next to her was a face out of other memory and history books. Ghanima Atreides...A face dancer! Did Mother Superior really send me to bed one of those things?!

"Where is your master, face-dancer?" She growls. If they're waking up like this, she's gotten what she needs out of it anyway.