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I squeeze the King's hand. "You must name an heir, Father. For the good of The Republic, you must choose." My brother nods, his face creased with worry.
The king's eyes slide shut. "I will live," he repeats, his voice fading.
Panic rises in my chest. Our kingdom needs a strong leader to keep order, especially with the Sabines growing bolder along our borders and rearing rebel groups. I shake my father's shoulders, desperate to keep him awake. "You must choose! As your sons, as princes of The Republic, we demand to know your will!"
No response. Amulius slipped into the arms of Hades, his chest still and silent.
Remu's hands ball into fists at his sides. His eyes meet mine, twin embers of anger and sorrow glowing in the candlelight. The throne is ours now to rule or fight for. The choices we make in this moment will echo through our kingdom for time to come.
I set my jaw and give a sharp nod. Together, we will forge a new era of prosperity for our people. No matter the cost, the throne is one of ours to claim, but who gets to decide?
Our footsteps echo through the empty corridors as we leave to announce the end of an era.
As Remu and I stride from our father's room, the guards straighten to attention, their eyes flickering between us. Word of Amulius' passing will spread swiftly through the castle. By dawn, all of The Republic will know that their king is dead, and the throne stands empty.
Remu clasps his hands behind his back, his jaw set in a grim line. "This changes everything. The Sabines will seize this chance to invade while our kingdom is weakened by uncertainty. One of us must be crowned before news of Father's death becomes public."
I stare at him, wondering what games he plans to play. In my veins, a yearning begins to spread: one for the crown to sit atop my head.
But for now, I wonder where my brother stands. Will he denounce his right?
I need to test it. I nod. "Then there is no time to lose. We will go before the Senate tonight and demand a coronation. Once the crown is placed on one of our heads, the armies will follow our command."
"And if the Senate refuses?" Remu asked softly. "If they call for an election instead in light of the fact that father didn’t leave an heir?"
My hands curl into fists, rage burning in my veins at the thought. After everything we have sacrificed, all the years of waiting in the shadows of Amulius' court, they would dare deny us our birthright? I would not tolerate such insolence.
I speak my voice hard as iron. "The Senate rules only by our consent. Perhaps they need reminding of that fact."
Remu's eyes flash, but he holds his tongue. We stride onward in silence, our steps ringing with purpose through the hollow halls of the castle. The throne of The Republic was nearly within our grasp.
Nothing would keep me from claiming what is mine.
The age of Amulius had ended.
We enter the throne room to find the Senate in disarray, voices raised in anger and confusion as the news of Amulius' death spread. At the sight of us, the room falls silent, all eyes turning in our direction. I keep my gaze fixed on the sole throne before us, refusing to show any weakness under the scrutiny of the senators.
Beside me, Remu stands tall and proud, radiating the same air of authority. No trace remains of the uncertainty that had gripped him mere moments ago. Now, there is only iron resolve in the set of his jaw and the steely glint of his ocean-blue eyes.
And I fear it, for it can only mean one thing: He too wants to sit upon that hallowed seat.
We stride forward as one, coming to a halt at the foot of the dais. I sweep my arm out in a gesture of command, addressing the Senate with a voice that rings with conviction. "The king is dead. Long live the future king!"
A startled murmur runs through the crowd. I ignore it, climbing the steps of the dais and turning to face the senators once more. "The throne is mine by right of blood. I claim what is ours this day."
Suddenly, a thunderous roar encompasses the great hall.
“Yours, brother?” Fury mars Remu’s voice, the clear threat silencing the cackles.
I look down to stare at my brother as he attempts to glide up the stairs to meet me at the throne.
His eyes burn with a fierce determination that mirrors my own. I could see the hunger for power lurking beneath his gaze, a hunger that matched my own. The air crackles with tension as we stand face to face on the dais, both unwilling to back down, our rivalry laid bare for all to see.
"The throne is not yours alone, Romulus," Remu's voice is steely and challenging. We are equals in this claim, born of the same blood and destined to rule together. The people need unity, not division."
With a steely voice, I respond, "Yes, brother. Ours. The throne belongs to us both by the will of our father and the gods above. But only one can reign as king."
The Senate watches on, unsure of how to proceed in the face of this great, brewing rivalry. Whispers flutter through the room like trapped birds, the tension mounting with each passing second.
