"No title for me," Chani whispered. "Nothing, I beg of you."
     "I swear to you now, that you'll need no title. That woman over there will be my wife and you but a concubine because this is a political thing and we must weld peace out of this moment, enlist the Great Houses of the Landsraad. We must obey the forms. Yet that princess shall have no more of me than my name. No child of mine nor touch nor softness of glance, nor instant of desire."
     "So you say now."
     "Do you know so little of my son?" Jessica whispered. "See the princes standing there, so haughty and confident. They say she has pretensions of a literary nature. Let us hope she finds solace in such things: she'll have little else. Think on it Chani: the princess will have the name, yet she'll live less than a concubine - never to know a moment of tenderness from the man to whom she's bound. While we, Chani, we who carry the name of concubine - history will call us wives."