Chapter 15: A Gala of Veiled Barbs

In the end, Ivy decided to grace the gala with her presence, motivated solely by the reverence she held for her grandfather. It was, after all, a matter of honor rather than desire. "Planning on catching some Z's in there?" Cecil inquired, his tone laced with a mix of irritation and incredulity, as he knocked on the door yet again. The notion of being left on the doorstep by a woman was as foreign to him as humility to a king—a truly bewildering predicament. Inside, Ivy was the picture of calm as she executed the final step of her preparation—securing the zipper. "What's the rush?" she murmured under her breath, though she hurried to open the door. Cecil's initial frown, a testament to his impatience, melted away at the sight of Ivy. His gaze lingered, a silent acknowledgment of his impeccable taste... in attire. "Off we go then, you seemed rather eager," Ivy quipped, now accustomed to their unique brand of banter, though she immediately realized her transformation was complete. Irr