knight's Royal Duty || Gonkillu ||

Fading

As the day wore on, the situation in the palace grew worse. More soldiers arrived, and the tension in the air was suffocating. Killua and Gon spent the afternoon hiding in the shadows, listening to snippets of conversations and trying to gather information about the queen's next move.

It wasn't long before they learned the full extent of her plan. The queen had ordered the arrest of several key court officials—those who had quietly opposed her rule, those who had shown even the slightest sign of disloyalty. They were being taken to the dungeons, their fates uncertain.

But that wasn't all. The queen had also summoned the military leaders of the kingdom to the palace, and from what Killua and Gon could gather, they were preparing for a full-scale mobilization of the army.

"The war's about to start," Killua muttered, his voice filled with dread. "She's not wasting any time."

Gon's expression was grim. "We need to find a way to stop her, Killua. Before it's too late."

But how? The queen's power was absolute. She had the military, the court, and the palace under her control. Every move they made was being watched, and any misstep could mean disaster.

As the sun began to set, casting a blood-red glow over the palace, Killua felt a sense of hopelessness wash over him. They had tried so hard, fought so long to stop his mother's plans—but now it seemed like everything was slipping through their fingers.

"We need to get to the court," Killua said suddenly, his voice filled with urgency. "If we can free the officials she's arrested, we might be able to rally them. We can still stop this."

Gon nodded, his eyes filled with determination. "Let's go."

Killua and Gon moved quickly through the palace, using the hidden passages they had discovered over the years to avoid detection. The halls were eerily quiet, and the tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. Every step felt like it could be their last.

But when they finally reached the dungeons, the sight that greeted them was worse than they could have imagined.

The court officials—those who had opposed the queen—were already being led away. Soldiers surrounded them, their faces emotionless as they escorted the prisoners out of the palace. The officials were bound and gagged, their eyes wide with fear and disbelief.

"We're too late," Killua whispered, his voice trembling with despair. "She's already won."

Gon's hand clenched into a fist at his side. "No. We're not done yet."

But as they watched the soldiers lead the prisoners away, Killua felt the full weight of his failure crash down on him. His mother had outmaneuvered them at every turn. She had played them like pawns, and now the kingdom was on the brink of war.

Killua turned to Gon, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do we do now?"

Gon's face was filled with grim worry. "Fight..."

Just as Killua and Gon were about to slip away from the scene, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the dungeon halls. Before they could react, a group of soldiers stepped forward, surrounding them. But it wasn't the soldiers who caused Killua's heart to skip a beat—it was the figure standing behind them.

His father.

King Silva Zoldyck stood at the entrance to the dungeon, his imposing figure framed by the flickering torchlight. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto Killua with an intensity that made his stomach drop. The king rarely showed emotion, but there was no mistaking the disappointment in his gaze.

"Killua," Silva said, his voice deep and calm, though laced with a silent authority that made Killua's skin crawl. "I didn't expect to find you down here."

Killua's breath caught in his throat. He and Gon had been so careful, but now they were caught, and by none other than the king himself. Killua's mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation, but before he could speak, Silva turned his gaze to Gon.

"And you," Silva continued, his tone shifting slightly as his eyes narrowed. "I see you've been keeping my son busy."

Gon's face was stoic, but Killua could see the tension in his posture. Silva was no fool—he had likely suspected for some time that Killua and Gon had been working against the queen. But now, with them caught in the act, there was no denying it.

Silva stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Gon. "The queen has plans for you, Knight Gon. You will be leading a unit of knights in the upcoming war. You've earned this rank—and now you will fulfill your duty."

Killua's heart sank. His father was pulling Gon directly into the war, giving him command of a unit of knights. This was worse than Killua had feared. Not only were they caught, but Gon was being thrown into the front lines of a war that his mother had orchestrated.

But Silva wasn't finished.

"And Killua," Silva said, turning to his son. His voice dropped to a quieter, more dangerous tone. "You are to return to the palace and resume your duties. Whatever foolishness you've been involved in ends now. The kingdom is at war, and you will play your part."

Killua's blood ran cold, but he forced himself to remain calm. He couldn't let his father see the fear that was clawing at him. If he showed weakness now, it would only make things worse for him—and for Gon.

"Yes, Father," Killua said quietly, bowing his head to hide the turmoil in his eyes.

Silva regarded him for a long moment, as if searching for any hint of defiance. When he found none, he nodded and turned away, motioning for the soldiers to escort them out.

The following morning, the palace was a hive of activity as the final preparations for war were made. Soldiers lined the halls, their armor gleaming in the early morning light. Orders were being shouted, and the air was thick with tension. Gon stood among the ranks, his face unreadable as he was briefed on his new responsibilities.

Killua watched from a distance, his heart heavy with worry. Gon had been promoted to command a group of knights and guards—an honor in most circumstances, but Killua knew the truth. His mother had maneuvered this, ensuring that Gon would be on the front lines of the coming conflict. It was a way to control them both—by separating them and placing Gon in harm's way.

Killua wanted to say something, to warn Gon or to convince him to find a way out. But Silva's words echoed in his mind, a reminder that they were both trapped. The queen's control over the kingdom was absolute, and if Killua made one wrong move, Gon would pay the price.

So, he did the only thing he could do.

He pretended.

Pretended that nothing was wrong. Pretended that the war was just another duty to fulfill. Pretended that he didn't remember the danger they were truly in, or the fact that his mother had orchestrated the entire conflict for her own gain.

But it tore him apart inside. Every time he saw Gon preparing for the battlefield, Killua wanted to scream, to grab him and tell him to run, to escape before it was too late. But he couldn't. If he showed even the slightest hint of fear, his father—and by extension, the queen—would know something was wrong.

So, Killua remained silent, forcing a smile when Gon caught his eye.

But Gon knew better.