The manor had been quiet, save for the occasional rustle of servants.
Elliot avoided Vincent as much as possible by staying in his room. The man had no right to be arrogant and assume that Elliot would simply submit to him.
The reality of his new life loomed over him, and Elliot quickly became accustomed to the isolation of their marriage. His family, once so close to him, had quickly slipped away.
Elliot stared out the window, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. What did the queen expect? That the moment he married Vincent Whitehall, their families would start being friendly with each other? No. The truth was, nothing was going to change overnight.
The rivalry between their families was far from over. He had only one choice: to adapt.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Enter," Elliot replied.
A servant opened the door and greeted him. "My lord," he bowed and continued, "General Whitehall has requested that you join him. He believes it's time for you to…" He trailed off. "…get accustomed to military protocols."
Elliot's stomach dropped. Was Vincent serious about training him? Elliot believed the other man was mocking him. He knew people saw him as a fragile omega, and Vincent, especially as an alpha, was no different.
"I will join him shortly," Elliot replied, mustering a hint of authority in his voice.
The servant bowed and left. Elliot sighed as he prepared himself, wearing simple, comfortable, and functional attire.
He really didn't want to see Vincent, but it was impossible to ignore the man, considering they now lived together. He stared at the mirror, his dark blonde hair combed neatly. Unlike Vincent, he didn't have any muscle, which made him feel a bit insecure.
Elliot considered changing his mind and refusing to follow Vincent's demand. Part of him just wanted to stay in the safety of his room, but he knew that wouldn't really change anything. They were stuck together now.
When he arrived at the training grounds, he found Vincent standing among some of his soldiers. The soldiers paused at Elliot's arrival, and he could feel their eyes on him.
Vincent then turned to face him. "You're late." His voice was deep and commanding.
Elliot didn't flinch as he walked toward Vincent. "I wasn't aware I had a time limit."
"In the Whitehall family, punctuality is not a suggestion," Vincent replied. "But today, I will make an exception."
The soldiers resumed their drills, obviously questioning their interaction. As much as Vincent and Elliot tried to appear casual, there was an unspoken challenge between them.
"So, what now?" Elliot asked, his tone as flat as he could manage. "Am I to be paraded around like some trophy for your soldiers?"
Vincent's lips curled into a tight smile. "If you want to consider it that way. But I think you might learn something today. You may not be a soldier, Elliot, but understanding how we fight could be useful, don't you think?"
Elliot's stomach dropped, and he grimaced at Vincent's suggestion. He watched as the soldiers clashed swords; he couldn't imagine himself in their situation.
"I'm not a fighter," Elliot replied, frustration evident in his voice. "I negotiate. I talk. I think. That's what I do."
"Then today, I will teach you how to fight," Vincent replied. "Every good diplomat knows when to fight. There's more to strategy than words."
Elliot wanted to reply about how ridiculous it was to force an omega to engage in a world of fighting. As much as he didn't want to be seen as physically weak, there was nothing he could do about his biology. Omegas had smaller frames and fragile constitutions. It wasn't something that his suppressant could fix.
However, Vincent looked serious. He gestured for one of the soldiers to hand him a wooden sword. "You don't have to be good at it; you just need to learn."
Elliot took the sword, which sat awkwardly in his hands—heavy and unfamiliar.
Vincent seemed to be genuine with his words. He went to Elliot's side, properly showing him how to hold the sword.
Elliot felt out of place.
Vincent went behind Elliot, fixing his posture as Elliot's heart started racing. He never expected that skinship would be needed to learn. Vincent smelled like mint and lemon, but this time, it wasn't as repulsive as when he had tried to intimidate Elliot.
"The key is posture," Vincent explained. His rough hand gently touched Elliot's hand, adjusting it.
Elliot didn't have the heart to be snarky with Vincent when he was being this genuine with him. He couldn't find the words to say that he wasn't interested and didn't want to see the world as the Whitehalls did.
Before they could continue, a servant interrupted them with a letter bearing the crest of the royal family.
Elliot remembered how it was the same before his life was turned around by the queen.
Both men stared at the letter, but Vincent took it. He dismissed the servant before opening the letter. "The queen wants us to be present at the palace this afternoon," he announced.
Another vague letter, Elliot thought.
Vincent took the sword from Elliot's hand, glanced around, and dismissed his soldiers with a wave of his hand. Vincent scoffed, frustration clear in his voice. "What do you think she wants this time?"
Vincent was clearly irritated by how the queen had been using them as pawns in her game. There was no warmth in his voice; the genuine care he had earlier was replaced with a sour mood from the queen's summon.
Elliot understood him, though. The queen had been making questionable decisions ever since she took the throne. Elliot had admired how strong she was at first—an omega in power, someone Elliot had wanted to be. But right now, that admiration was wavering.
Elliot responded, "I have no idea. I'm as clueless as you."
At least there is something that Elliot and Vincent can bond over.