A fog of confusion filled Desa’s mind, receding only reluctantly to be replaced with pain. Her head hurt, and the dizziness that came with that made her nauseous. The voices that were speaking somewhere nearby sounded as if they were coming from the depths of some ancient cave.
The first pleasant sensation she experienced was the feeling of soft, red carpet beneath her. The walls of this room are also red, and its vaulted ceiling was supported by thick, golden pillars. She knew this place. The Prelate’s office.
Desa was lying on her side, dressed only in gray pants and an undershirt that barely let her maintain modesty. Her short, brown hair was a mess, thin strands of it falling over her face. She tried to sit up.
Tried and failed.
“She’s awake,” someone said.
Without thinking, she r
