Every hour for three days, Romulus’s second in command, Aeneos, ordered his soldiers to ram against the throne room door. The soldiers grew tired and weak from the constant battering.
Romulus was quiet and patient. He could feel his brother’s presence opposite of him in the throne room. They had once been best friends, twins in every sense of the word. This anger and war between the brothers would have been incomprehensible when they were younger. They were inseparable, yet for the past two centuries, they had been just that…separated.
Romulus leaned against the wall, suddenly filled with longing and despair. His stomach churned, about to be sick with an awful choking sensation in his throat. He tried to move away from his troops before tears formed, but froze. It felt as though someone tied him around his ankles, waist, arms, and throat. He was bound by weakness.
On the exact opposite side of the wall, the o’Conaills pinned Remus to the wall. Remus was experienced the same sensations as Romulus. Brian had one hand on Remus’ forehead and one against the wall next to Remus’ ear.