knight's Royal Duty || Gonkillu ||

Here

---

Killua smiled faintly, though his heart was heavy. "I know you will. But first, you need to get better."

Gon tried to sit up, wincing as his body protested the movement. "I’m healing faster now. It won’t be long until I’m back on my feet."

Killua’s smile faded, his gaze hardening as he looked down at Gon. "I don’t want you back in the middle of this, Gon. You’ve already risked enough. I can handle this myself."

Gon’s eyes darkened, and he shook his head. "You know I won’t just sit back and let you fight alone, Killua. We’ve always faced everything together, and this time won’t be any different."

Killua’s chest tightened, torn between wanting to protect Gon and knowing that Gon was right. They had always fought side by side, and this final battle against his mother’s machinations would be no different. Still, the fear of losing Gon, especially after how close he had come to death, gnawed at Killua’s heart.

Gon seemed to sense Killua’s internal struggle and reached out, placing a hand over Killua’s. "You don’t have to protect me from this. I know what’s at stake, and I’m with you—always."

Killua nodded slowly, his voice quiet but resolute. "Then we end this together."

---

The following days saw a marked shift in the tide of the war. With the enemy forces in retreat, Killua’s knights fortified their positions, and their victories on the battlefield were slowly turning the kingdom’s fate. But despite the battles being won, Killua knew the war wouldn’t truly end until he faced the source of it all—his mother.

The queen’s grip on the kingdom was weakening, but her influence remained strong. Even though Killua had struck a blow to her plans by taking down her general, she still held the throne, and the court was still filled with those loyal to her.

Killua spent every spare moment planning his next move. He knew that a direct confrontation with the queen wouldn’t be enough. His mother was cunning, always one step ahead, and if she felt her power was truly threatened, she wouldn’t hesitate to resort to more drastic measures.

As Killua poured over maps and strategies late one night, a soft knock sounded at the door to his tent. He looked up, startled, and called for the visitor to enter.

To his surprise, one of the court’s high-ranking advisors stepped inside—an older man with a thin frame and sharp, calculating eyes. He bowed slightly, though there was a tension in his posture that made Killua wary.

"Prince Killua," the advisor said, his voice formal. "I come with a message from the queen."

Killua’s eyes narrowed. "From the queen? What does she want?"

The advisor straightened, his gaze cold. "Her Majesty has requested an audience with you. She wishes to negotiate a truce and an end to the fighting."

Killua’s blood ran cold at the words. A truce? After everything she had done—manipulating the war, betraying her own people—his mother wanted to negotiate? It was unthinkable, and yet, Killua couldn’t ignore the opportunity.

He stood slowly, his voice steady. "And why should I trust anything my mother says?"

The advisor didn’t flinch. "Her Majesty understands that the kingdom is at a breaking point. She wishes to ensure that it does not collapse entirely. She is willing to discuss terms for peace, but only if you meet her alone."

Killua’s mind raced. A meeting alone with the queen could be a trap, but it could also be his chance to confront her directly, to finally expose her for the power-hungry manipulator she was. He had to be cautious, but he couldn’t turn down the opportunity.