Chapter 10. Not the Same Prince

Ivory could feel the blood drain from her head the moment she saw Rayshawn standing in front of her. This was not the same Rayshawn she had known for years; there was an unmistakable shift in his demeanor, an aura of danger that sent a shiver down her spine. Not being dangerous for hurting her, but it was as if this man before her had the power to tempt her, to lure her into doing things she never thought she would be willing to do.

"Prince... Rayshawn?" She asked slowly, her voice tinged with uncertainty as Rayshawn continued to hold her hand.

"But you're used to calling me Ray," he replied, his deep voice dripping with a seductive charm she had never heard from him before and a smile plastered across his face.

"Uh..." Ivory stammered, unsure of how to respond to this unfamiliar side of the man she thought she knew.

"I'm here to ask for your forgiveness, my lady," Rayshawn said, bowing deeply before her. "I want to apologize for all the stupid and reckless things I've done in the past. And I'm here to make amends with you."

"You're apologizing?" Ivory could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Rayshawn had broken so many promises, disappointed her countless times, and humiliated her repeatedly over the years. This sudden change in his demeanor left her feeling skeptical and wary.

"Yes, I am. Please allow me to make amends for you, anything," Rayshawn said, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made Ivory's heart race.

"Anything?" she asked, still doubtful.

Ivory knew what kind of event Rayshawn had always hated the most: tea parties with other nobles. Although these gatherings were primarily for noblewomen, their spouses or partners were sometimes expected to attend as well. It was often an opportunity for the women to boast about their escorts, and Rayshawn had never shown the slightest interest in any of these social events.

"Tomorrow, I have to attend a tea party at Viscount Burgh's mansion," Ivory said, her mind racing as she tried to find a way to test Rayshawn's sincerity. "The Viscountess sent me an invitation, and I can still tell her today that you'll be coming with me tomorrow."

"Oh, a tea party?" Rayshawn asked, and Ivory felt her heart sink, already anticipating his refusal.

"As I thought, it's to-" she began, but Rayshawn cut her off.

"Sure, I would love to. What time? And what dress are you going to wear tomorrow?" Rayshawn replied without hesitation, his smile widening.

"Huh?" His unexpected response completely caught Ivory off guard and took her by surprise.

"Yes, my lady, Ivory, I would love to accompany you to the tea party tomorrow. Do you need me to get a matching outfit with me?" Rayshawn said his gaze was firm, and Ivory saw no doubts in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" Ivory asked again, her disbelief evident in her voice.

"Of course, I'll pick you up, and we'll go to Viscount Burgh's mansion together," Rayshawn assured her, his demeanor exuding a confidence and determination that Ivory had never seen before.

She then thought again, remembering that one thing Rayshawn had always despised was the color red. Ever since he had fallen under the influence of the poor baron's son, Rayshawn had come to hate his own striking red eyes—the very proof of his royal lineage and the power he held.

Because of that, Rayshawn had thrown out all traces of red from his life, including all of his clothes that have a red color, which he prefers to use for dark colors or pristine white in his wardrobe.

Ivory steeled her resolve and said, "Then my gown will be red. If you want us to have a matching outfit, then it will be red."

Rayshawn's eyes widened slightly at Ivory's statement, but then a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Let's go on a date, then," he offered.

"What? Why do we need to go on a date?" Ivory asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I don't think I have any red clothes left; apparently I threw them all away," Rayshawn admitted sheepishly. "So, let's go on a date; we can go to Madam Frou's boutique."

"Today?" Ivory could scarcely believe what she was hearing. "But Madam Frou's is always so busy. She doesn't just open her boutique to everyone," she reminded him, recalling that Rayshawn had only taken Garrett there before.

"But I'm the Crown Prince," Rayshawn said with a confident smile. "I'll wait if you need to change your dress, but you look gorgeous already."

Ivory felt her face flush at his compliment, still struggling to understand why Rayshawn was being so charming and attentive towards her.

"I'll ask permission from your parents, and then we can go to the café with the dessert you like," Rayshawn continued, his tone warm and genuine.

Ivory let out a resigned sigh, realizing that there was no point in arguing. "Fine, okay," she conceded, deciding to simply go along with Rayshawn's plans.

-

After Rayshawn had unceremoniously thrown him out of the palace, Garret had no choice but to return to his own residence in the capital—the one he had purchased before his falling out with the Crown Prince.

Desperate to regain his influence over Rayshawn, Garret had made numerous attempts to gain access to the palace or secure a meeting with the Crown Prince. However, all of his efforts had been in vain. Rayshawn had explicitly instructed the palace guards to keep Garret away, effectively shutting him out.

Pacing restlessly around his mansion, Garret grew increasingly agitated. "If this keeps up, everything will be for nothing!" he lamented, his carefully laid plans crumbling around him.

It was then that one of the guards from his household came bearing news. "The Crown Prince is at the Vanderberg mansion, and he will be going to Madam Frou's boutique with Lady Ivory," the guard reported.

Garret's lips curled into a triumphant smile. In the past, he had always managed to come out on top when it came to Ivory. Rayshawn had always chosen him over the woman, abandoning her in the process. When he chased him out, Garret believed that Rayshawn had just awakened from a long journey and a massive trauma. He's really sure that if Rayshawn sees him again now, he will choose him just like before. 

"Excellent," Garret declared, summoning his butler. "Prepare me and the carriage. I shall be going to Madam Frou's boutique as well."

"Right away, young master," the butler replied, hurrying to carry out the order.

Garret's mind raced with the possibilities. If he could just get Rayshawn alone, he was confident that he could manipulate the situation to his advantage. After all, he had always been the one pulling the strings, the one Rayshawn had always turned to for guidance and support.