001: Ayla Lawrence (I)

"Ayla?" 

Through the silent corridors of the mansion, a worry filled voice resonated. A slight tap of a cane followed each of his steps as his restless eyes jumped from one shut door to the other. 

It wasn't like her usual self to go missing without informing him beforehand. Especially not when there were guests waiting downstairs for her: an entire hall full of them. 

"Ayla?" 

He called out again, hoping to get a reply this time. But to his dismay, he didn't get any just like the previous time. 

"Why don't you wait downstairs or in your room, Old Master? I'll look for Young Miss and bring her to you." A meek attempt to bring the old man to his room was made by the maid who had been quietly following him all this while. She didn't want her old master to end up tired with all the searching. But she knew better than anyone when to step in or not. There was no one on this planet who could make him change his mind when it came to his beloved daughter.

"How do you expect me to be at ease when she's nowhere to be found?" The old man replied, shaking his head to the side. 

"When was the last time you saw her?" He looked over his shoulder as he inquired further about the whereabouts of his daughter. 

"I-I… umm… I saw her when she was still in her room getting ready for the event. I-I conveyed your message and then I l-left." The maid replied in a low tone with her eyes glued to the floor. How was she supposed to look him in the eye whilst she was lying to him? She couldn't bring herself to do that. 

"Really?" The old man shook his head once again, not believing his eyes. It wasn't hard for him to figure out that he was being lied to. He could have gotten angry over it, but he chose to shrug it off. 

He knew too well how much the staff of the mansion adored his daughter. That was the only reason why he wasn't irked in the slightest bit by the maid's act. There was definitely something which had managed to escape his eyes: something that even the staff knew.

"I am sorry, Sir." The maid could tell that she had been caught already from the old man's tone alone. Hence, she chose to apologize right away without telling him the truth. There was no way she would go against the orders of her Young Mistress. 

"You do know where Ayla is as of now." It wasn't a question that left the old man's thin lips, but rather a statement which was only met with silence in response. This only confirmed his suspicion; she indeed knew where exactly Ayla was. 

A sigh made its way out of his lips before he dismissed the maid. She seemed to be reluctant to leave at first, but later chose to listen to her Old Master given the fact that he was quite stubborn himself.

Once he was on his own, he drew in a deep breath to calm himself down. It wasn't that he was angry at her. Instead, he was angry at himself for not paying enough attention to his daughter. 

With another sigh, he decided to make his way back to the hall downstairs since there was no way to bring Ayla out of her hiding spot unless she was willing to show herself. He would just wait for her to come out on her own. 

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Meanwhile, the girl in question was leaning over a balcony. Her frail silhouette could be seen from the other end of the room through the sheer white fabric of the curtains. They were the only thing blocking the entrance to the terrace. 

Her frail arms were resting on the steel railing, keeping her face propped up. Her ocean gray eyes were set on the horizon, focusing on the moonlit lake in the distance. She couldn't help but wonder what was causing the small waves to come into existence as she wandered through the narrow alleys of her mind. 

Was it something which was responsible for these disturbances on the surface of the lake? Or was it the lake's restlessness itself? She failed to come to a reasonable answer. 

Knock! Knock! 

She was brought out of her reverie by a couple of knocks at the room's door. 

"Come on in." She replied, glancing at the room's entrance. 

"What's Dad doing now?" She didn't wait for the maid to greet her. "Don't tell me he's still looking for me?" 

"He is not, Young Mistress." The maid hurriedly shook her head. "As of now, he's entertaining his guests downstairs." She added to assure the young lady that there was nothing to worry about. It was only when she got a nod in return, did she release a sigh of relief. 

"Do you want me to bring you something to eat?" She added as soon as silence took over the room. 

"It's alright, Nina. I am not feeling hungry." The young lady shook her head. "And, how many times do I have to tell you this: you do not have to call me by that title. Ayla will do just fine."

"Miss Ayla, you know that it's never going to happen." The maid shook her head as her lips curled up into a faint smile. "That's the only way I am ever calling you by your name." 

"Fine! Do as you please." Ayla didn't bother to look into her direction. 

"In that case, I'll take my leave. If you need anything, just let me know, please." Nina added, taking a step back. She was a bit hesitant to leave her Young Mistress on her own. She would rather see her mingling downstairs with her guests, being the life of the party just like always. But things were different now—and not in a good way. 

Nina glanced once again in her direction. She stared at Ayla's sullen figure for another two seconds before taking her leave.