Chapter Three

As Ivy and her team worked in the palace kitchen, she took a quiet moment to update Dave about her past with Prince Henry. She didn't reveal the real reason for her sudden departure all those years ago. Instead, she told a half-truth—that her mother's death had forced her to leave and she never found the courage to return.

"So… are you okay being back here?" Dave asked as he whisked a sauce, his eyes flicking to her with concern.

"I don't know," Ivy admitted. "But after hearing what Tia told us about the poisoning and the staff changes… I feel like staying to help him is the least I can do. I regret not saying goodbye—and not showing up for his father's funeral. I feel so… cowardly."

"Hey, don't be too hard on yourself," Dave said gently. "You were grieving too. And think about it—for him to bring you back, it means he doesn't hate you. He probably just wants an explanation. Maybe an apology."

Ivy's lips pressed into a thin line as she stirred the soup. "You're right. I'll apologize… if I can even get the words out."

"You'll manage." Dave smiled at her. "But let's talk business too. This palace contract is amazing, but our restaurant can't just run itself."

"I know." Ivy sighed.

"I was thinking—you manage things here, and I'll take care of the restaurant. Once a week, I'll come to the palace to help out. It's the only way we keep both afloat."

"Are you sure?"

"Completely. You're clearly more important to Henry, and I don't mind holding down the fort."

Ivy nodded. "Okay. Tomorrow, before signing our contracts, we'll bring it up with Tia."

"Deal." Dave grinned, and they continued working in comfortable silence.

Later that night

Prince Henry's assistant came to inform Ivy it was time to serve his dinner. The meal was arranged beautifully on a trolley, and a maid pushed it behind Ivy as Tia led her through the vast palace halls.

"This is the room where His Highness prefers to dine privately," Tia explained. "But sometimes, he asks to be served in his study or garden. Wait for instructions before entering."

Ivy nodded, her palms clammy as they reached the towering double doors. Golden lions were engraved into the dark wood, each one holding a jeweled sword in its mouth.

Tia knocked gently, then entered. Ivy followed hesitantly, her heart hammering.

The room was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked manicured gardens bathed in moonlight. A crystal chandelier sparkled overhead, illuminating the dark mahogany floors and a grand dining table set for one. Portraits of Ashvalore ancestors lined the walls, their stern gazes following her every move.

Prince Henry sat near the window, reading under the warm glow of a table lamp. He looked up when they entered, his sharp gray eyes pinning her in place.

"Your Highness, dinner is here. Do you need anything else?" Tia asked.

"No. Leave us."

"Yes, Your Highness." Tia turned to Ivy, her voice soft but firm. "Set the food and quietly excuse yourself." Then she left.

Ivy felt the silence press in around her. She carefully arranged the dishes on the table, her hands trembling slightly.

"Your dinner is ready, Your Highness," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Henry closed his book with deliberate calm, stood, and walked toward the table. His movements were measured, almost predatory. Ivy's breath caught as she took an involuntary step back.

He sat down and took a bite of the salmon.

She exhaled in relief when he began eating without comment. But she couldn't leave—not yet.

"I… I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Henry paused mid-bite, setting his fork down with a sharp clink. His eyes fixed on hers, cold and unreadable.

"For not attending your father's funeral," Ivy continued shakily. "And for not having the courage to face you all these years."

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms.

"And leaving?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm. "Are you not sorry for disappearing without a word?"

"I am," Ivy whispered. "I'm deeply sorry for leaving like that. I know I hurt you, and I regret it every day."

Henry stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the polished floor. Ivy flinched, stepping back until her shoulders hit the wall.

"You spent years in my home," he said, his voice low and hard. "You were part of my family. And then you vanished—no explanation, no goodbye. Do you have any idea how that felt?"

"I—I didn't mean to hurt you," Ivy stammered, her hands clutching her apron.

"Then why?" His tone sharpened like a blade. "Why couldn't you tell me?"

Her throat tightened. She couldn't say it—that she'd left to bury feelings that could never be returned.

Henry stepped closer, his tall frame and piercing gaze making her feel small and cornered.

"You still can't say it," he muttered. "You're still running."

"I'm not…" Ivy's voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes.

Henry sighed sharply and turned away, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Go," he said curtly. "I've lost my appetite."

Ivy hesitated, but the steel in his gaze left no room for argument. She bowed stiffly and exited the room, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.

The next morning

Ivy had barely slept, tossing and turning with guilt and anxiety. She was preparing Henry's breakfast when Tia came in.

"His Highness has asked for you to serve him directly again," Tia said.

Ivy swallowed hard but nodded.

When she entered the dining room, Henry was already seated, dressed in a crisp white shirt and dark slacks, his jacket tossed carelessly on the chair beside him.

"Good morning, Ivy," he said quietly.

"Good morning, Your Highness." She kept her eyes on the table as she arranged the dishes.

"Sit."

She froze. "Pardon?"

"Sit. I need to say something."

Hesitantly, Ivy took a seat across from him.

Henry leaned back, his gaze softer than it had been the night before. "About yesterday… I overstepped. I was angry and frustrated, but that's no excuse for the way I spoke to you—or the way I cornered you."

Ivy blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected an apology.

"I'm sorry," he said simply. "You didn't deserve that."

"It's… alright," she said softly. "I understand you were hurt."

"That's no excuse." His eyes held hers, unflinching. "I should've handled it better."

For a moment, the tension between them eased. Ivy felt the knot in her chest loosen slightly.

"Thank you for saying that," she said.

He nodded. "Now, let's eat."

As they began their quiet breakfast, the air felt less suffocating. Ivy couldn't help but notice the faint traces of exhaustion in his face—as though he too hadn't slept much.

But their fragile moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Your Highness, Miss Oliana Nolle is here to see you," a guard announced.

Henry's expression hardened slightly. "Let her in."

The door opened, and Oliana Nolle strode in gracefully. Dressed in a tailored ivory coat and diamond earrings, she exuded elegance and confidence. She smiled brightly as she leaned in to kiss Henry on the lips.

"Henry," she said warmly. "I missed you."

"Oliana. This is a surprise."

Her eyes flicked to Ivy. "You must be the chef. The childhood friend."

"Yes, ma'am. Good morning," Ivy said politely.

Oliana's smile sharpened. "I hope you'll take good care of him. Henry is… very precious to me."

"You don't have to worry," Ivy said, forcing a smile. "I'm engaged myself."

Henry's fork froze mid-air. "What?"

"Yes," Ivy said, holding up her hand to display a ring. "This proves it."

Oliana clapped her hands delicately. "Wonderful. Then we won't have any misunderstandings."

Henry said nothing, his expression unreadable.

Abruptly, he stood. "I have an urgent meeting. Oliana, I'll call you later."

"Henry—" she began, but he was already striding toward the door.

"Ready the car. We're going to Black Pit," he instructed his guards as he left.

Ivy sat frozen, feeling Oliana's scrutinizing gaze still on her.