When she went to fill a third, I whispered, “No, that’s enough. Thank you.”
The young female kept her head down and went to walk away. Before she could, I begged, “No, please stay. I…” I shook my head, wincing at the ache it brought. Pushing the pain aside, I asked, “Where am I? Why am I in such a room? I’m so confused.”
The chiri did as commanded, and without meeting my eyes, she replied, “You are in the High Mona suite, miss. Master commanded it.”
In a split second of clarity, I remembered what I was. I was a mona. A slave used for her body, to give males pleasure whenever they wished.
Ice replaced the warm blood running through my veins. Shivers broke out along my skin and traveled down my spine.
High Mona?
Master?
Suite?
Master Arziani. That name sent a rapid shock to my heart, its beat increasing in speed. I wasn’t sure why this Master scared me so, but again, I trusted my instincts, which told me to fear him greatly.
Dragging in a much needed breath, I asked, “I’m in the Blood Pit?” The question left my mouth, words laced with the confusion that still smogged my mind.
“Yes, miss. You were brought back six weeks ago. You have been gone awhile.”
Shock rippled through my body. “Six weeks? Brought back?” I questioned. The chiri nodded once in response. I racked my brain trying to remember anything about where I had been, any morsel of memory from the past six weeks, but there was nothing. Panic flooded my senses.
“I don’t remember,” I said hoarsely. “I don’t remember anything.” The blurred scarred face of the male flickered through my mind yet again. I tried to hold on to the image of his face. I remembered that he had blue eyes. Somehow familiar blue eyes. But before I could understand why, he had disappeared, sucked back into whichever black hole was stealing all conscious thought.
My chest constricted and the ability to breathe was taken from me. My dry lips parted as I fought for air. Despite the pain, my hand moved to my chest and gripped over my heart. Panic surged through me and my feet began to kick. But my traitorous body wouldn’t move. The aches and pains held it down. A whimper escaped from my lips. Suddenly, two hands gripped my arms and held me in place.
Frantically, I looked up. The chiri had leaned over the bed and was trying to keep me calm. “I … can’t … breathe…” I forced out. The chiri finally met my gaze. Her eyes were dark and large. She would have been pretty, I thought, if it had not been for the ravaged side of her face.
“You’re panicking,” she said softly. “It’s the drugs. You have been weaned off one and placed on another, a lower, less intense dosage. It’s why you’re in pain. It’s why you’re struggling to remember anything. Your brain needs time to adjust.”
Reaching out, I gripped the chiri’s arms and followed the rhythm of her breathing. She inhaled slowly, as I attempted to fall into step with her calm rhythmical breathing. My heart had been beating so fast I was sure it would burst from my chest. But after minutes of controlled breathing, it regained its normal beat. I could once again breathe, my pulse slowed to a steady beat.Yet I didn’t let go of the chiri’s arms. Seeing I was calm, the chiri lowered her head. As she did, I studied her up close. My heart dropped. The disfigurement, what appeared to be a burn mark, was severe. Her hair was patchy, and her skin was red over her right cheek, neck, and ear. A wave of sorrow washed over me.
What had she been subjected to? How was this done? But worse, why was this considered normal? Why did seeing someone so brutally scarred not shock me?
Then I thought back to her words, as anxiety once again tried to hold me in its clutches. Drugs? The drugs? Opening my mouth, I whispered, “Drugs? You said … drugs?”
After a brief pause, the chiri replied, “Yes, miss.”
“Please,” I asked. “Explain. I … I find myself confused. My mind is a jumble of thoughts. I can’t pin anything down.”
The chiri paled. She shook her head. “I am not authorized to speak of such things. I’ve been sent to care for you, nothing more.”
“Please,” I begged. “Why am I here? How am I here? I need something to make sense.” My head pounded as I grew silent.
It was several seconds before the chiri replied. “You were with Mistress Arziani for a long time. You were not in the Blood Pit. But Master called you back. So you returned. That’s as much as I know.”
I closed my eyes, trying to remember something, anything, but nothing was there. “I don’t remember,” I whispered.
“The drugs,” the chiri repeated. Opening my eyes, I waited for her to explain. After rolling her lips together nervously, she said, “You were on the monebi drug. You have been subjected to it for years. When Master called you home, he ordered you be taken off it and instead put onto the High Mona formula.”
“Why?”
“I do not know why, miss. I was simply brought in as your chiri. I have been assigned to your care while you are High Mona. Every High Mona is assisted. It’s part of your privileges.”
A million questions clogged my fuzzy mind, but I picked out one to ask. “High Mona?” I shook my head slightly. “Can you explain? I don’t understand? What is a High Mona?”
The chiri looked up and with a deep breath stated, “Miss, you are Master’s new personal consort. You have been elevated to be his. And only his. You are no longer the property of other males, as you were before.”
All of the blood drained from my face as her words reached my ears. Releasing her arms, I stared down at my hands and saw them shaking. I searched my mind for why the news that I was Master’s High Mona was a bad thing, but I couldn’t remember. It was as though a high wall shielded my past from my mind’s eye. Obscuring the answers to the many questions I had.
“Why am I shaking?” I asked nervously. “Why does this cause me to feel fear?” I clenched my hands together into fists, gritting my teeth through the aching pain. My eyes then scanned the room, at the luxury and the opulence. Nothing looked familiar. Instinctively, I just knew that I did not belong.
As that thought passed through my mind, another took its place. I felt the soft bed beneath me, breathed in the clean fragrant air, and asked, “If I am the new High Mona, what happened to the last?”