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Vincent was taken aback when Elliot kissed him deeply, completely unexpected, the kiss caught him off guard. However after it, through gritted teeth, Elliot whispered urgently, "the queen is hinting for us to kiss." Realizing the moment, Vincent quickly adapted. Without missing a beat, he wrapped his arms around Elliot's waist, pulling him closer. 

As the celebrations came to an end, Vincent felt the weight of exhaustion settle in. He just wanted to fall asleep in his cozy bed, but then he realized that starting tomorrow, he would have to stay with the Leightons for a whole month and follow their courtship customs.

One month. Vincent scoffed at the thought. He couldn't imagine any of the Alphas or anyone who married an Omega Leighton enduring that long, but then again, this was the Leightons he was talking about. It was entirely possible that they had ensured that each custom was strictly adhered to.

He sighed in resignation. A whole month, and no time for himself. It felt as if his personal space had just been swallowed up by their customs, and he was forced to comply.

Vincent found Elliot waiting by their carriage, an impatient look on his face. "What took you so long?" he asked, his tone sharper than usual, if that's even possible with Elliot.

Vincent waved him off, too tired to argue. He didn't have the energy for a fight, he just wanted to collapse into bed. Without a word, he climbed into the carriage.

"Ignoring me now?" Elliot's voice followed him, a hint of frustration in his tone as he stepped inside after him. "Look, I didn't exactly plan on kissing you that deeply," Elliot said with a heavy sigh, his tone a mix of frustration and resignation. "I'm miserable too." He dramatically flopped onto the opposite seat, crossing his arms as he stared out the window.

Vincent scoffed, the kiss already slipping from his mind. His thoughts were consumed with one thing: surviving the next month with the Leightons.

"So, what should I expect over the next month?" He broke the silence between them.

The moonlight filtered through the carriage window, casting a gentle glow across the interior. The rhythmic thud of the horse's hooves echoed in the quiet, as Elliot took his time to respond, and then he grinned, his eyes glinting even in the dim light. "You'll see," he said, his voice teasing. 

Vincent sighed and glanced out the window, his gaze drifting over the passing scenery as they made their way to the Leighton estate. He really couldn't wait to collapse into bed.

Vincent was awoken from his deep slumber by Elliot's butler. Normally, he wakes up early on his own to jog and prepare for the day, but the stress and chaos from the previous night's event had left him exhausted. "What time is it?" he asked groggily, squinting at Elliotìs butler as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"It's past eight in the morning," the butler replied, pulling open the curtains and letting the sunlight flood into the room.

Vincent blinked against the sudden brightness, still groggy. He glanced around the guest room with a sense of unexpected gratitude. He had half expected to be tossed into a random shed in the Leighton garden, but this was far more comfortable than he'd anticipated. 

The room was smaller than the one he was used to, but it was cozy enough. His clothes had already been neatly placed in the cabinet by the maids, he hadn't packed much, just the essentials for his one month stay. After that, he and Elliot would be living together alone, so this brief arrangement seemed insignificant. 

He just had to survive the next month.

They still hadn't discussed which family estate they would move to. But more pressing than that was the topic of mating, a far more important conversation than choosing a manor. Vincent made a mental note to bring it up with Elliot, determined to approach the subject without feeling awkward.

Vincent assumed Elliot would refuse to mate with him, he had every right to. After all, they hardly knew each other, and their relationship was everything but friendly.

As he changed to prepare for the morning, Vincent ran through various ways to bring up the topic, mentally rehearsing how he would approach it, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to come to mind. 

Elliot's butler was waiting outside Vincent's room, offering a polite nod. "I'll lead you to the dining hall," he said.

Vincent nodded in return, murmuring a quiet thanks as he followed him. As they walked, he couldn't help but observe Alfred's movements. He recalled how the butler had come to Elliot's aid the moment his heat began, a reminder of Alfred's discipline and strength. The way his muscles shifted beneath his black suit caught Vincent's attention, and for a moment, he found himself admiring the butler's physique. It made Vincent reflect on his own training, and how far he had fallen.

Noticing he didn't know the butler's name, Vincent asked, "By the way, what's your name?"

"Alfred," the butler replied.

They soon arrived at the dining hall, where a modest breakfast spread for one was laid out. Vincent took his seat without hesitation and immediately began digging in.

Alfred then began outlining the plans for the day ahead, detailing what Vincent could expect.

First, Alfred explained, Vincent would meet the Leighton matriarch in the gardens, followed by introductions to the rest of the family, as the other Leighton siblings would be arriving later in the afternoon.

Vincent nodded, taking a bite of toast with jam. He had seen Elliot's siblings before but hadn't had the chance to interact with them, as they were both busy entertaining guests during the reception.

He wondered if he could have a chance to talk to Elliot today, so he decided to ask Alfred, "is Elliot available today?" 

"He is at his study." The butler replied.

Vincent finished his breakfast and stood up. "I think I'll meet him first, before Lady Leighton."

Alfred nodded in acknowledgment and began leading him once more.

They arrived at Elliot's study, the room is nearly the size of his own. Shelves lined the walls, filled with rows of books, while a grand piano sat prominently in the center. Near the window, which offered a view of the gardens, stood a painting easel, hinting at Elliot's more artistic side.

He found Elliot carefully arranging a vase of colorful flowers by the window, the soft light casting a gentle glow on him. "What is it?" He asked without breaking his concentration on the task at hand.

"It's Vincent," he said, announcing his presence as he approached Elliot, though keeping a significant distance. 

Elliot glared at him, something he always did, without fail. He cleared his throat, he wanted to bring up the mating dilemma, but Alfred's presence is making it awkward.

Elliot looked at him with a quiet, questioning look before giving a subtle nod to Alfred, signaling for him to leave the room.

"Spit it out," Elliot said, his voice firm, as he waited for Vincent to speak.

Vincent took a deep breath, trying to gauge Elliot's reaction before broaching the sensitive subject. "So, about your heat..." he began, hesitant.

Elliot let out a frustrated huff, clearly irritated by the topic. "It happened once, it won't happen again," he muttered, referring to the incident from before.

Vincent quickly shook his head. "I didn't mean that," he interrupted, feeling his words stumble. It was harder than he expected to ask, he struggled to find the right way to phrase it. "I mean… what do we do now?"

Elliot finally seemed to understand what Vincent was getting at. He stopped fiddling with the flowers, crossed his arms, and let out a sharp sigh. "Nothing changes. I'll do what I've always done," he said, his tone slightly exasperated. "What did you think you could do?"

Vincent raised a hand in mock surrender, already anticipating this answer. "I expected that," he replied, then hesitated before asking, "But what happens when we live together?"

"I take my suppressants, and you stay out of my way," Elliot said, emphasizing each word, clearly trying to steer the conversation away or push Vincent to leave him alone.

Vincent's frustration grew. "And I lock myself in my room?" he raised his voice slightly. "Don't you think the queen will ask if we mated?"

Elliot's irritation flared, and his voice rose higher than Vincent's. "I don't think she has a say in what happens in our bedroom," he snapped.

Vincent wasn't backing down. "You'll take your suppressants forever?" he pressed. "It's not healthy, you know that."

"Why do you care?" Elliot waved a dismissive hand. "This marriage is just a formality!"

Vincent wasn't trying to force Elliot into becoming his mate. He simply wanted a solution for when they would eventually live together, and when he inevitably entered his heat. Because Vincent was worried that he might lose control and end up attacking him, he refused to let his animalistic instincts take over, it wasn't who he was. 

For now, though, the conversation was going in circles. It was clear they'd just end up yelling at each other without reaching any kind of solution.

Hearing their raised voices, Alfred hurried into the room. Both Vincent and Elliot turned to face him.

"Is something wrong?" Alfred asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Nothing," Elliot replied, already heading for the door. "I'm going to the garden."