knight's Royal Duty || Gonkillu ||

《A Guard?》

As the morning light filtered through the wide windows, casting its golden glow into the dimly lit room shrouded in heavy curtains, a luxurious bed and various opulent furnishings glimmered under the sun’s rays. This was the usual start to his day.

For the white-haired prince, it was always the same. Wake up, get dressed, and attend to his princely duties. There was no excitement, no thrill in his routine—just a dull, inescapable monotony. Every day felt like a repetition of the last, and Killua felt trapped, suffocated by the unchanging nature of his life.

With a sigh, he pushed open his door, the hinges creaking in protest. He almost wished the doors would lock him in, seal him away from the world. At least then, he wouldn’t have to face the burdens that came with his royal title. All he wanted was freedom—a life beyond these stone walls, beyond the endless responsibilities that weighed him down. Life, it seemed to him, was cruel in so many ways.

As he wandered through the corridors, his eyes drifted lazily over the elaborate decorations lining the hallways, each one a reminder of the kingdom's grandeur. But instead of pride, these sights only deepened his sense of weariness. The idea of becoming the kingdom’s future ruler was not something he desired. To him, it was nothing more than a gilded cage, and he was its most reluctant prisoner.

Before long, Killua found himself standing in the throne room, his head bowed as his mother’s voice echoed through his mind.

“Oh, my dear, why such a mood?” her voice chimed with artificial sweetness.

Was she really trying to cheer him up? It felt like mockery. The people of the kingdom revered her as the ‘Perfect Queen,’ but Killua knew better. In truth, she was domineering, and her perfection was nothing more than a well-constructed facade. He had never liked her. His father, at least, was somewhat tolerable, but even that relationship was strained by the expectations placed upon them.

“I’m fine, Mother,” he replied, his voice laced with irritation, though he tried to keep his tone composed. His mother’s piercing glare made him stand up straighter, forcing him into a posture of compliance. He could have defied her, but at that moment, his father entered the room, and Killua froze in place.

He felt cornered, a familiar sensation that always made his stomach turn. He hated the feeling of being controlled, but he had no choice. As much as he loathed it, he was bound by duty to follow every command, no matter how much it grated against his desire for freedom.

“Since you seem to enjoy sneaking out of the castle walls,” his father began in his deep, authoritative voice, “you will be assigned a personal guard.”

A personal guard? Killua couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wasn’t a child. He could take care of himself. Then again, he wasn’t particularly good at caring for his mental health either. The only reason he hadn’t completely broken down was because of the luxuries afforded to him as a prince.

He avoided making eye contact with his father, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Why did they have to control every aspect of his life? He longed to have a say in his own decisions, especially when it came to matters that concerned him directly.

“I don’t need a personal guard,” he protested. “I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

The castle was already crawling with guards. They followed him wherever he went, but he had always managed to slip away unnoticed. Why would one more guard make any difference?

“You will have a guard, and that’s final!” his mother snapped, her voice rising in frustration. How did no one else ever hear her outbursts? Or perhaps they did, and everyone simply ignored them to preserve her flawless image.

Killua sighed in defeat. There was no point in arguing. His mother’s glare made it clear that the discussion was over, and he would get no further with her. Reluctantly, he nodded, though every fiber of his being resisted the idea. A personal guard—it was the last thing he wanted.

The atmosphere in the throne room was stifling, and Killua felt an overwhelming sense of relief when he was finally dismissed. He left quickly, eager to escape the oppressive air that clung to the royal halls.

There were still more duties awaiting him, and to make matters worse, he hadn’t eaten. Breakfast had been brought to his room earlier, as it was every morning, but Killua never touched it. He ate only during dinner, and even then, he did so reluctantly. The truth was, he had told the servants to stop delivering food, and to his surprise, they had obeyed. However, if his parents ever found out, there would be hell to pay.

As his footsteps echoed down the long corridors, his mind wandered to the list of tasks awaiting him for the day. What else was expected of him?

“Big brother!” A cheerful voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Killua turned just in time to catch a small, smiling girl as she threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly before stepping back.

“Alluka?” he asked, surprised to see her. She was supposed to be preparing for her trip.

“I know, I should be on my way,” she said with a smile. “But I wanted to say goodbye before I leave. I’ll be back in a week!”

Killua hummed in response, feeling a brief flicker of warmth. He was always protective of Alluka, but he often worried that he was a bad influence on her. He didn’t want her to end up as disillusioned with their life as he was.

“I’ll see you then,” he said softly.

Alluka nodded, waving as she headed down the hallway, the guards trailing closely behind her. Killua watched her go, then groaned inwardly as he remembered—he, too, would soon have a guard following him around.

When would this new guard arrive, anyway? The question nagged at him for the rest of the day.

By midday, the answer came. He was summoned back to the throne room. Pushing open the heavy doors, Killua saw the royal guards standing at attention, with his parents seated on their thrones. What was happening now?

“There you are,” his father said, as though he had been expecting Killua for some time.

Killua approached, his expression neutral. “Why was I called?”

“Your personal guard is here,” his father informed him.

Killua sighed, barely managing to suppress the groan building in his throat. He had been so focused on his duties that he had momentarily forgotten about this.

Standing before him was a guard—though this one looked different from the others. The guard seemed to be around his age, which took Killua by surprise. He had grown used to older, seasoned guards who barked orders and watched him with wary eyes. This one, however, intrigued him. At least he wouldn’t have to deal with being bossed around by someone much older than him.

The new guard bowed low before him, their face hidden beneath the visor of their helmet. Even though Killua couldn’t see their expression, he could feel a certain energy radiating from them. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It was more like the guard was genuinely eager to serve him.

“I am here to protect you, my prince,” the guard said, their voice calm and steady.

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