Layla's childhood was as ordinary as a daughter's whose mother had passed away early in her life could be. Growing up surrounded by a dominant presence of male figures in her life, she turned into a strong, courageous individual, prepared to tackle...
The wind blew fiercely against her face as the strands of her hair flew backwards, but that did not make her slow down. She forced Robin to keep moving forward and kept a strong hold on the reins, her knuckles turning white due to the pressure she applied.
It was only at the sight of a few buildings from the village that Layla loosened her hold on the reins and patted Robin's back, telling him to slow down. Her heart that had been beating frantically returned to a reasonable heart rate as she took several deep breaths to calm herself at all.
She dared to glance behind herself now that she was far away from the woods, and silently wondered, "What on earth was that?"
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The Royal Mark : CHAPTER FOUR
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Layla didn't know how long she kept going, but soon enough, she was standing in front of her house, ready to barge in. When had she hopped off of Robin's back? She had no idea. She was too shaken by the incident to think properly.
She entered her house using the key looped on a string that was attached to her shorts, and looked around only to find out that she was the only one home. Sir Dunkin and Morrie were most likely still at the bakery, she thought to herself.
It was probably for the best; her father would've been worried at the sight of her flustered cheeks and bewildered expression, and would've bombarded her with thousands of questions to know what caused her to be in such a state.
Layla opened the door to her room, and slowly made her way to her bed on which she allowed herself to fall freely on her back. Staring at the ceiling, she thought back to the blue eyes she'd seen in the forest.
She had not felt in the slightest threatened by them, despite the fact they were staring deep into her own hazel eyes almost like a glare. Instead, she found them to be calming like the sea breeze.
Then why had she ran away from them as if her life was at stake?
She brought her wrist above her face and examined the area where the hand had grabbed her. With her other hand, she slowly trailed her fingers on a faint red mark that was left as a reminder of what had occurred in the forest. She hoped it wouldn't bruise, for it would be hard to explain the injury to her father, without having him permanently lock her between the four walls of her room.
