The kingdom stage loomed on the horizon, and the Duke clearly intended for Gon to be ready, whether he liked it or not.
He lay there for a moment longer, staring up at the ceiling of his chamber.
The weight of expectation settled over him again, familiar and heavy.
But beneath it, that fire still burned—the same fire that had driven him through the tournament, the same fire that had carried him this far.
He might grumble and groan, but deep down, Gon knew he wouldn't have it any other way.
This was his chance, his shot at proving himself on a stage far bigger than the duchy.
And he would seize it with both hands, no matter how tired he was, no matter how many early mornings awaited him.
With a sigh, he pushed himself out of bed, his muscles protesting as he stood. "Alright," he muttered, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Let's get this over with."
