From "Manual of Muad'Dib" by the Princess Irulan

I have seen a friend become a worshiper , he thought.
In a rush of loneliness, Paul glanced around the room, noting how proper and on-review his guards had become in his presence. He sensed the subtle, prideful competition among them—each hoping for notice from Muad'Dib.
Muad'Dib from whom all blessings flow , he thought, and it was the bitterest thought of his life. They sense that I must take the throne , he thought. But they cannot know I do it to prevent the jihad .
Stilgar cleared his throat, said: "Rabban, too, is dead."
Paul nodded.
Guards to the right suddenly snapped aside, standing at attention to open an aisle for Jessica. She wore her black aba and walked with a hint of striding across sand, but Paul noted how this house had restored to her something of what she had once been here—concubine to a ruling duke. Her presence carried some of its old assertiveness.
Jessica stopped in front of Paul, looked down at him. She saw his fatigue and how he hid it, but found no compassion for him. It was as though she had been rendered incapable of any emotion for her son.
Jessica had entered the Great Hall wondering why the place refused to fit itself snugly in to her memories. It remained a foreign room, as though she had never walked here, never walked here with her beloved Leto, never confronted a drunken Duncan Idaho here—never, never, never . . .
There should be a word-tension directly opposite to adab, the demanding memory , she thought. There should be a word for memories that deny themselves .
"Where is Alia?" she asked.
"Out doing what any good Fremen child should be doing in such times," Paul said. "She's killing enemy wounded and marking their bodies for the water-recovery teams."
"Paul!"
"You must understand that she does this out of kindness," he said. "Isn't it odd how we misunderstand the hidden unity of kindness and cruelty?"
Jessica glared at her son, shocked by the profound change in him. Was it his child's death did this? she wondered. And she said: "The men tell strange stories of you, Paul. They say you've all the powers of the legend—nothing can be hidden from you, that you see where others cannot see."
"A Bene Gesserit should ask about legends?" he asked.
"I've had a hand in whatever you are," she admitted, "but you mustn't expect me to—"
"How would you like to live billions upon billions of lives?" Paul asked. "There's a fabric of legends for you! Think of all those experiences, the wisdom they'd bring. But wisdom tempers love, doesn't it? And it puts a new shape on hate. How can you tell what's ruthless unless you've plumbed the depths of both cruelty and kindness? You should fear me, Mother. I am the Kwisatz Haderach."
Jessica tried to swallow in a dry throat. Presently, she said; "Once you denied to me that you were the Kwisatz Haderach."
Paul shook his head. "I can deny nothing any more." He looked up into her eyes. "The Emperor and his people come now. They will be announced any moment. Stand beside me. I wish a clear view of them. My future bride will be among them."
"Paul!" Jessica snapped. "Don't make the mistake your father made!"
"She's a princess," Paul said. "She's my key to the throne, and that's all she'll ever be. Mistake? You think because I'm what you made me that I cannot feel the need for revenge?"
"Even on the innocent?" she asked, and she thought: He must not make the mistakes I made .
"There are no innocent any more," Paul said.
"Tell that to Chani," Jessica said, and gestured toward the passage from the rear of the Residency.
Chani entered the Great Hall there, walking between the Fremen guards as though unaware of them. Her hood and stillsuit cap were thrown back, face mask fastened aside. She walked with a fragile uncertainty as she crossed the room to stand beside Jessica.
Paul saw the marks of tears on her cheeks—She gives water to the dead . He felt a pang of grief strike through him, but it was as though he could only feel this thing through Chani's presence.
"He is dead, beloved," Chani said. "Our son is dead."
Holding himself under stiff control, Paul got to his feet. He reached out, touched Chani's cheek, feeling the dampness of her tears. "He cannot be replaced," Paul said, "but there will be other sons. It is Usul who promises this." Gently, he moved her aside, gestured to Stilgar.
"Muad'Dib," Stilgar said.
"They come from the ship, the Emperor and his people," Paul said. "I will stand here. Assemble the captives in an open space in the center of the room. They will be kept at a distance of ten meters from me unless I command otherwise."
"As you command, Muad'Dib."
As Stilgar turned to obey, Paul heard the awed muttering of Fremen guards: "You see? He knew! No one told him, but he knew!"
The Emperor's entourage could be heard approaching now, his Sardaukar humming one of their marching tunes to keep up their spirits. There came a murmur of voices at the entrance and Gurney Halleck passed through the guard, crossed to confer with Stilgar, then moved to Paul's side, a strange look in his eyes.