Chapter Text
The palace carried a repugnant smell of incense and wine.
He never imagined that such a simple mixture would make him feel so suffocated and filled with such agony; may the Lord have mercy on him.
He didn't deserve it, but he needed it.
Severus kept his eyes downcast as servants dressed in white crossed the hall carrying golden goblets, their sandals scraping softly against the marble floor. Somewhere deeper within the palace, people laughed. Wine was poured endlessly into cups that never seemed empty. Musicians played something slow and torturous to Severus’s ears while noble voices rose and fell like noise from a fever dream.
He felt sorry for the slaves; no one in the world deserved to be treated like merchandise, regardless of how much they owed. He was certain that the Lord would receive them at the gates of heaven for enduring so much suffering. He didn't think he would get out of there alive, but if he did, he would make even more of an effort for the slaves and prisoners.
He had never imagined himself inside a domus aurea.
Nor had he ever desired it.
All that luxury felt excessive, vulgar, almost sinful in its abundance. He had heard whispers of rooms filled entirely with precious stones and gold statues while children starved in the poorer districts of Rome.
If even a fraction of it were given to the poor, the city would be different.
Some people looked at him with disgust as he walked; he felt fear, which was normal.
There's something horrible about knowing you're going to get hurt and no one will protest for you.
He clung to the only thing he had and prayed in his mind:
Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, an unworthy sinner.
He repeated that several times, finding joy only in the paternal and merciful gaze of the Lord. It was all he possessed.
No man besides Christ deserved worship; what happened inside those walls felt impious and blasphemous. Rome was rotting beneath silk and perfume.
That was why he protested so strongly against James Potter and those who treated him like a living god.
He would burn and destroy whatever was necessary to remind the people of this, even if it cost him his life, and Severus thought he would lose it soon.
“Raise your head,” ordered the guard beside him.
Severus obeyed slowly. He refused to behave like an animal dragged into a spectacle.
The imperial hall looked wrong beneath the candlelight, the flames reflecting endlessly against gold and marble. Statues of false gods watched the feast with cold stone eyes. Severus doubted Christ Himself could look upon such things without grief.
And at the center of it all sat James Potter, wearing gold as though he had been born inside sunlight.
He didn't want to, but he felt a terrible fear, sweating cold in his old clothes, and he could feel his own hands trembling along with his legs weak with terror.
Facing someone who wanted his death and could have what he wanted was terrifying.
Why, Lord? For what reason would you have given such a difficult mission to such a weak man?
He wasn't like David, who lacked stature but had the courage to confront Saul.
james was Strong. Admired. Worshipped.
Yet to Severus, he was merely a man with too much power and too little understanding.
a fool, in the worst way.
Still, he reminded himself not to become prideful. Pride had ruined holier men than him. The emperor was still one of God’s children, even if Rome had poisoned him.
Perhaps he was like Saul before Damascus.
The emperor observed him with open curiosity, resting his cheek lazily against one hand as if Severus were merely another strange animal brought into the palace for amusement.
He could see that James found amusement in the fear he caused him.
He felt ashamed and wanted to cry like a child, but when the sun streamed through a crack in the window, Severus remembered the reason for it all and took a deep breath.
Severus still did not understand why he had been summoned there instead of imprisoned alongside the other Christians.
Perhaps Potter simply wished to humiliate him publicly.
“So,” James finally said, a faint smile appearing on his face, “this is the Nazarene who has been troubling Rome.”
Severus forced himself to meet his gaze.
The emperor regarded him as a book to be studied, and he possessed an insatiable, burning curiosity.
Each step towards him was as curious as receiving the gift of knowledge, according to how close he was, and this deeply disturbed Severus.
The emperor possessed unusual eyes — bright, glazed, almost feverish beneath the candlelight. There was something unsettling hidden behind them, something restless and dangerous.
Like a man standing too close to madness.
But Severus could not judge him. Only God could.
The people surrounding them stared openly, as if waiting for entertainment.
“Dura lex, sed lex,” James declared dramatically, making laughter spread throughout the hall. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“The Gospel extends even to pagans.”
The hall fell quieter.
He seemed to notice every single detail about Severus, from his hands calloused from work, to his hair cut by his brothers in Christ, and his knees bruised from the non-stop prayers of the last few days.
“Repent, my emperor,” Severus continued calmly, “and do what is right in the eyes of the Lord.”
For a brief moment, James stared at him without speaking.
I think everyone could see how James's eye twitched with anger at the poor man's calmness.
Then he smiled.
Severus immediately understood why men feared emperors.
The smile was beautiful in the same way sharpened blades were beautiful.
He seemed fascinated, but not like a man who had just discovered the Immaculate Conception; fascinated like a monster, may God forgive him for not seeing the humanity in the emperor.
“WHAT AUDACITY!” Potter suddenly shouted, rising from his seat with theatrical fury. “These cannibals who poison Rome dare preach to me?”
“How dare he!” a woman cried from somewhere near the back of the hall, causing outraged murmurs to spread among the guests.
“Crucify him,” said a long-haired nobleman with a soft smile. “And I shall gladly pay for the execution of this wretch.”
Severus fought the instinct to look away.
James raised one hand, silencing the room immediately.
The power frightened him more than the shouting.
“And yet,” the emperor murmured, his voice quieter now, “I consider myself a merciful man.”
He descended the steps slowly.
The guests watched with hungry fascination.
Several people whispered about how the Christians were a disease.
“And you,” James continued, stopping directly before Severus, “are pleasing to the eye.”
The emperor reached toward his face.
Some women placed their hands on their chests as if in admiration.
For the first time that evening, Severus felt genuine fear crawl beneath his skin.
Like livestock awaiting inspection.
“Formosus,” several voices whispered approvingly around the hall.
Beautiful.
Severus pulled his face away from the emperor’s touch.
A flicker of irritation crossed Potter’s expression.
“Change your mind,” James said softly, “and you will not die for betraying Rome.”
Dying for Christ was the least Severus could offer.
The bare minimum.
“No.”
He could see and even feel how much anger James felt towards him; he never thought that looks could burn until this dark day that would haunt him.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
James’s expression twisted into something ugly and furious. He grabbed Severus harshly by the hair, forcing his head back.
It hurt; the emperor had a heavy hand, but Severus had the impression that the adrenaline lessened the pain. This time, no tears welled up in his dark eyes.
“Clearly,” the emperor hissed, “you are not sane.”
His grip tightened painfully.
“A few days in prison may cure you.”
That was all it took.
The guards seized Severus immediately, dragging him away as the palace erupted once more into laughter, music, and wine.
But he could see, as he was being dragged away, that the emperor's expression remained the same as Severus disappeared from his sight, and he smiled at the emperor.
Not with defiance, but with love; he might not see a human in him, but he could love him as a monster if necessary.
The devil wants to take away your capacity to love because this is your greatest similarity to God, and if you are similar to Him, he will not have you because you fear God more than anything.
Severus knew this, so he forgave his brother in Christ who betrayed him, the guards who dragged him away, the rich people who insulted him on the way, the emperor's friends who bet on his death, and the emperor himself.
Ultimately, that is your calling: to give your life for your beloved brothers and sisters, just as the Lord did. That was the goal: to imitate Jesus.