"Fine selection in guests too," he complimented. For all his personal stoicism and silent demeanor, he did appreciate a woman with fine feminine aesthetics. And she seemed like she had a clever intelligence as well, which he appreciated. Such folks seemed to be able to fill in gaps he left in conversation.

"Your establishments?"

"There is one here in Arrakeen, one in Carthag, and several smaller places with starports. In Arsunt, on the Pole, and next to the Dun Men base, at the Splintered Rock. Every visitor to Arrakis gets lonely at some point, weathered by the hostile emptiness of the desert, and needs to feel alive." She said with a soft smile, as if the same melancholia had been touching her as well on occasion.

"Understandable," he says with a nod. Such places were not his particular interest.

"You do very well for yourself then."

"Getting by. Arrakis is a place where you do better recognising necessities rather than dreaming your dreams. But we can't live without dreaming just a little bit, can we?"

"Difficult place, need hope," he says with a nod. Nothing to look forward to can turn people bad. Those were the worst assassins to deal with, the ones that believed this life held nothing for them and hoped for something more in the next.

"Or at least an illusion of one. People excel at being self-deluded. Like those miners who arrive from all over the Imperium. They hope for riches, but what the find is physical depletion and a statistical death. Still, the mirage of spice wealth is too powerful for them to resist."

He nods. "Easier ways to live."

He then shifts direction back to the two of them. "Good place for dancing?"

"Other than here? My place, I suppose. The Palace in Carthag has halls, but neither the Baron nor his nephew are known for their taste for high culture." She chuckled at that. The very thought of suspensor-hovering Baron or Rabban dancing would amuse anyone who wasn't afraid of being amused with them on a Harkonnen world.

With a bit of a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth he nods. "I await the invitation," he says with a nod.

"It is a standing one. I'll welcome you any time." Her lips twitched in a forestalled signal. In the end, she just curtsied. "You'd have to forgive me though. As much as the Count's hospitality is gracious and his guests captivating, I need to return to my establishment. Failure of leadership is a sin on Arrakis."

The curtsy received a returned bow. "Thank you."