Anos and Drogo

(The Demon King's castle, a few hours before the fight)

A few hours before the fight, Anos found himself unable to rest.

The feeling had crept up on him slowly over the past few days, growing stronger with each passing moment, until now—on the eve of the battle—it had settled into a heavy weight in his chest.

It wasn't fear.

No, Anos was not afraid.

It was something else.

Something like a tight, lingering unease that gnawed at the back of his mind, refusing to be ignored.

He was restless, his thoughts pacing even when his body remained still, as every second that passed made him feel caged, suffocated by the weight of expectation.

It wasn't the battle itself that concerned him, but the implications that came with it.

The eyes of his people would be on him tomorrow, watching, judging, waiting to see if he still deserved to wear the crown, and the anxiety to perform, to prove his worth weighed him down.