Sheeana flows off the edge of the bed, as sinuous as the worms she dances for. Her voice is needlelike, prodding, goading. "He was the worst tyrant the universe has ever known. No aspect of..." And now she catches the difference in tense. "Of course. Just a moment." She's gambling here. Retreating into other memory might be a good way to get a crysknife in the stomach. She's counting on Ghanima's Atreides honor overriding her fremen viciousness.

"He didn't die, Ghanima. It was a ruse, to fool our enemies." She replies in the voice of Lady Jessica, Ghanima's grandmother. As a reverend mother, she has access to those memories too.