The breakfast was as awkward as it could get.

Elliot had barely slept the night before, his mind racing with questions about what would happen now that they were married.

Vincent, on the other hand, looked rough. His silver hair was messy as he took a pill, probably to ease his hangover.

Both men ate in silence, the clink of silverware the only sound in the room. Finally, Vincent broke the silence.

“Elliot Leighton,” he said, glancing at him. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Elliot gave a polite smile, though his mind was still racing. “Vincent Whitehall,” he replied. “I’ve heard about your family, too.”

“I’m sure you have,” Vincent said, pride in his voice. “Strength, honor, victory—that’s what the Whitehalls stand for.”

Elliot stayed calm, replying, “And my family stands for peace and diplomacy.”

“That’s exactly why we’re here,” Vincent said, his eyes not leaving Elliot’s.

The Leightons and Whitehalls had been rivals for years. Their families had opposing views on how to lead the kingdom.

The Leightons, Gaea’s leading family of diplomats, were the primary negotiators who secured a truce with the kingdom of Kaos. They worked tirelessly to maintain this truce with trade agreements and border alliances, hoping to prevent Kaos from breaking it.

On the other hand, the Whitehalls were Gaea’s military backbone, ensuring the kingdom’s borders were secure and that its military forces remained ready for potential aggression from Kaos. The Whitehalls had openly expressed their suspicions of Kaos, doubting the truce would hold.

While no outright conflict has erupted in recent years, tensions remain high, with both kingdoms watching each other carefully. 

Elliot sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand...” He trailed off before continuing, “I don’t know how we’re supposed to make this work when everything feels... wrong.”

He hadn’t meant to sound so vulnerable in front of Vincent, but the words slipped out before he could stop them.

Vincent studied him for a long moment. His expression was hard to read, but there was a brief flicker of something softer—concern, maybe? It disappeared quickly, but Elliot noticed it, and it unsettled him.

“We need to talk about what comes next, Elliot,” Vincent said.

“The future of our families?” Elliot guessed.

“Yes, and the future of us,” Vincent replied.

Elliot hadn’t expected Vincent to care so much about their marriage. He had assumed the man was cold, but the weight of responsibility seemed to press heavily on him. As the only Whitehall heir, Vincent had a lot at stake. For a moment, Elliot saw a crack in his stoic facade, but Vincent quickly sealed it.

“I don’t know what we can do, Vincent,” Elliot admitted, feeling lost. His usual intelligence felt useless in the face of their situation.

“I want this marriage to work,” Vincent said bluntly. “I need you to trust me and let me be your partner.”

Elliot froze, caught off guard by the sincerity in Vincent’s voice. His throat tightened, and a part of him wanted to lash out, to tell Vincent this marriage was doomed, that it could never work. His mind screamed for independence and freedom, but something deep inside held him back, his instincts betraying him.

“We need to find a compromise,” Vincent added, his tone firm but calm.

“I’m not sure I can,” Elliot admitted. “I didn’t choose this. I didn’t choose you.”

Vincent’s jaw tightened, and he pressed a hand to his forehead, massaging it gently as he sat in silence for a moment. Finally, he spoke.

“You didn’t choose me,” he said quietly. “And I didn’t choose you, either. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make something of this. We’re both stuck in this marriage, Elliot.”

Elliot knew he was right, but the thought of becoming just another omega—a dutiful spouse who submitted to an alpha—turned his stomach. He had dreams of making a name for himself, of being his own person. That part of him still refused to surrender.

“We need to think about mating too,” Vincent continued.

Elliot was shocked at Vincent’s bluntness. Surely the man knew Elliot had no will to mate with him, given their situation. But Vincent seemed confident that this marriage would work in his favor.

Elliot glared at him, and Vincent only raised an eyebrow in response. “With all due respect, I don’t think I want to be your mate, Vincent.”

“You have no choice; we are married,” Vincent replied coolly, asserting his dominance over Elliot. Their breakfasts were completely forgotten as their conversation grew heated.

Elliot hated it—hated how his omega side screamed to submit to the alpha in front of him. But his suppressants helped him keep control. He took a deep breath and replied, “You can’t control me like your military puppets.”

Vincent took this as a challenge. “We’ll see about that,” he said, standing abruptly and moving to Elliot’s side. He leaned down, their faces inches apart.

The sharp scent of mint and lemon filled the air, overpowering and almost dizzying. Elliot felt both unnerved and challenged by it, but he forced himself to meet Vincent’s gaze with a defiant glare.

“Intimidation won’t make me submit,” Elliot said coldly, his voice steady despite the tension.

Pushing back his chair, he stood and left his half-eaten breakfast behind, turning to walk away.

Vincent smirked as he watched him go. The alpha’s commanding presence clashed with Elliot’s calm, collected exterior. Still, Vincent had noticed something—small moments where Elliot’s vulnerability slipped through the cracks.

Vincent resumed his breakfast, his head still throbbing from the hangover.

His thoughts drifted to the queen’s abrupt decision to marry them, and it irritated him that an omega had decided his fate and future. She might be the queen, but King George, though sick and bedridden, was still the official ruler of Gaea.

Vincent’s stomach churned; he couldn’t stomach his breakfast anymore. He knew the situation they were in wouldn’t be easy, but he wasn’t ready to back down just yet. He needed to uphold his pride and take charge.