Dies Veneris xvi October XXXIII ... Noon

Again, no food and little to drink; yet I suppose this anguish is no worse than what I endured back in Rome, when I moved with the children back to Paletine Hill. Tiberius, then old and unpopular, relied heavily upon his brilliantly brutal lieutenant Lucius Aelius Sejanus (a name I spit out with disgust). I wager that he wanted the throne for himself, that power hungry criminal. He, in his deeply evil mind, determined to wipe my family and friends out. And how he hurt me in the process! I shall never let him know to what extent; he shall not get that satisfaction. I merely bury my feelings deep; later I would burn with rage.

I remember those years quite clearly, and now I see reason, although warped and perverted, in Sejanus’ actions. He warned Tiberius against me, encouraging him to see me as a dangerous threat to his throne. Yes, I suppose I may have been, but it would have been far greater to have one of my sons sitting on the throne. But I could never have murdered Tiberius off to do so; at least that is what I think now.

But he hurt and killed so many of my friends; it hurts me so. The first of my friends to go was dear Sosia Galla and her husband Silius, who was a friend and fellow soldier of my beloved Germanicus. They were accused of maiestas. Yet, what had they done?

Similarly, my cousin Claudia Pulchra was accused of plotting to kill the Emperor with poison and sorcery. But how despicable is that? She was only my friend. It now appears friendship to the Agrippina the wife of Germanicus is a crime. At this point, I could stand it no more and rose to confront Tiberius. His play in popping off my friends was going way too far. I found him worshipping a statue of Augustus. Now how hypocritical is that, to be worshipping Augustus while at the same time murdering his descendants? If he was genuine in worshiping Augustus (which I highly doubt), should not he be showing me more respect. After all, as the granddaughter of the divine Augustus, I am the greatest embodiment of his spirit. But Tiberius just looked at me with a smug, self-righteous look (I shall never forget it) and quoted the Greek line: “And if you are not queen, my dear, have I done you wrong?” O, I could have rung that old neck of his!

And there were so many other people he tried (though I see no point in granting people a trial if the end decision to condemn them has already been decided). Nevertheless, Titus Sabinus (who was set up to engage in a treasonable conversation, which was then recorded by agents of Tiberius) was accused of tampering with Tiberius freedmen and plotting against him.  And then there was my own trial, and that of my son Nero. We were all but pawns in a game for Sejanus and Tiberius. Their lust for power burned hot against us.

My anger against them fuels the fire in my soul. O, it exhausts me to think so.

I have no energy to write any longer. Maybe later. I doubt I will be granted any food today…