Bride

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  I was changing into a new dress with the intention of finding food below, when suddenly a loud knock sounded at my door.

  Who could that be? I wondered, my brow furrowing in surprise.

  “Penny?” a voice called from the other side of the door. “Are you there? It’s me—Elizabeth.”

  I froze. What’s she doing here?

  “Just a moment,” I shouted, hastily covering my blue lips in a thin layer of red lipstick. I unbound my hair and ran a brush through it, trying not to panic. After casting a final, unsatisfied glance at the mirror, I crossed the room and opened the door a sliver, cautious of the bloodstained sheets and dress inside. “Elizabeth,” I said, poking my head outside the door. “What an entirely unexpected surprise.”

  Elizabeth offered an apologetic smile. She wore an attractive lavender gown and a white coat. Her long hair was fixed in a golden braid. “I’m sorry for dropping by unannounced. The barman told me I might find you here. I was wondering if you would like to accompany me for a spot of tea?”

  “Of course,” I answered. “Allow me a moment to gather my things.”

  Victor’s journal remained on the dresser where I had left it. When the time came, I would leave it for the authorities and let nature take its course. Elizabeth would no longer be able to turn a blind eye to his misdeeds when confronted with the truth written in his own hand.

  When I reemerged, we made our way out of the inn into the daylight outside. Elizabeth remained unusually quiet during the stroll down the sidewalk. We stopped at a café around the corner, and soon we were sipping tea on the patio.

  “You left in quite a hurry the night before last,” Elizabeth remarked, breaking the informal silence between us.

  I slept almost two days, I realized, trying to hide my surprise. That meant the wedding was tomorrow.

  “I hope Uncle Alphonse didn’t upset you,” Elizabeth went on.

  “Not at all,” I answered, attempting to hungrily devour the crumpets on my plate in as refined a manner as possible.

  “He doesn’t really think Justine killed William, at least I don’t think so. He holds himself responsible for his son’s death, and putting the blame on Justine is a way to avoid the guilt.”

  “Really, Elizabeth, you’re worrying too much. I had a wonderful time,” I said after finishing the last bit of crumpet.

  “I’m pleased to hear it. I’m grateful you accepted my invitation. Justine meant a great deal to us, and I thought you should meet our family.” Elizabeth set her teacup aside and looked away, watching with a forlorn expression as a couple crossed the street. It was the first time I had seen her unhappy.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked. “I don’t mean to pry.”

  She sighed. “Do you ever wish you could go back to the way things were?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning.”

  Elizabeth hesitated before turning back to me. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to say anything.”

  I smiled in an effort to set her at ease. “It’s all right—I don’t mind. Tell me what’s troubling you.”

  Elizabeth leaned forward in her chair and spoke in a hushed tone. “It’s my fiancé, Victor. He’s been acting strangely lately.”

  “How do you mean?” I asked, intrigued.

  “Victor and I were intended for each other almost from the moment I was adopted into the family. We grew to love each other as children, and from then on we were inseparable. Until…” She trailed off, wearing a pained look that did not mar her lovely face.

  “Go on,” I said, eager for another glimpse into this shared past.

  “Several years ago, I contracted scarlet fever, and Aunt Caroline took it upon herself to nurse me back to health. I recovered, but Caroline soon fell ill. Victor was devastated when she died. In many ways, I don’t think he ever fully got over her loss.” Her eyes moistened, and she paused to dab them with her napkin. “None of us did.”

  She blames herself, I realized, struck by an unexpected sense of compassion for her. I reached across the table and laid my hand on hers. “I know it must have been difficult for you, holding the family together after her loss.”

  “Thank you. You’re very kind,” she said before continuing with her story. “After Caroline’s death, Victor left home to study medicine at the University of Ingolstadt. There are no words that can express how much I missed him. The days stretched on, and the happy summers of our youth seemed more distant each year. His letters became fewer in number, and when they came there was a kind of madness in his words that made me fear for his health.”

  I listened, fascinated. I knew this was the time when Victor was laboring to bring his monster to life, but I had never heard this side of the story before. “What happened?”

  “I received a letter from Victor’s friend Henry that he had taken ill, and I left for Ingolstadt at once.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I had never seen Victor in such a state. He was feverish and half-crazed. At night he cried out expressing regret over some ‘monstrous act’ he had committed. I heard stories from the villagers about strange experiments and missing corpses—nightmarish tales I could hardly believe. It took months for me to nurse him back to health, and we returned to Geneva together with Henry.”

  “Victor came back to you,” I said, “so the story had a happy ending.”

  “For a time,” she replied, nursing the last of her tea. “Victor became his old self again, and the family was as happy as it had been since Caroline’s death. Then, not long after our engagement, William was murdered.”

  “And Justine was accused of the crime,” I finished for her.

  “Nothing was ever the same after that. Whatever light remaining in Uncle Alphonse’s eyes was extinguished. Victor and Henry left for Scotland, on business Victor refused to explain, and Ernest enlisted in the army.”

  “Whatever happened in the past, you’re together again here and now,” I said. “Some would give anything for that. It’s clear that you love Victor, so what is it that has you so uneasy?”

  Elizabeth stared wistfully into the bottom of her empty teacup. “Perhaps it’s nothing,” she said quietly. “The wedding is fast approaching, after all.” She fingered the gold band that had once belonged to Caroline Frankenstein. “Victor has been different from the moment he returned from Scotland. There’s a distance between us now that I’ve never felt before, not even when William was murdered. He seems torn whenever we’re together, as if his mind is on something else—someone else.” She laughed suddenly, and a familiar smile replaced the weariness in her face. “You must think me a lovesick fool.”

  “Love makes fools of us all,” I replied. It had certainly done so with Elizabeth. She was a stunning and intelligent woman nevertheless undone by her feelings for Victor—so strong they had caused her to completely overlook or excuse his faults. Despite my jealousy, I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. Not long ago, I had felt the same way about him.

  “What a lovely sentiment,” Elizabeth said.

  “It’s a line from Shakespeare.” Victor would have recognized it right away, his distaste for romanticism aside. He needed someone who would challenge him, and Elizabeth deserved someone who would treat her like an equal, not a pretty little plaything. They were all wrong for each other, and no one seemed to see it but me. As I contemplated her words about the distance between them, I wondered if it was possible that Victor still had feelings for me. When I recalled the chilly reception I had received from him in the graveyard, and all the pain he had caused me, my heart again grew cold.

  Love has made fools of us both, I thought angrily—only I would no longer allow it to hold sway over me.

  Footsteps approached, and as I stared past Elizabeth, my expression hardened. Constable Rengel was headed straight for us, accompanied by three soldiers. Elizabeth followed my gaze, and the smile died on her face.

  “What’s he doing here?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know,” I answered,
unable to avert my eyes from the man who had turned me over to the mob. What business could he possibly have with me, aside from Wilhelm’s murder? When I remembered the events of the previous night, I cringed inwardly. What if someone had recognized me from the tavern’s shattered window? What if he was here to arrest me? My hands began to shake, and I immediately hid them underneath the table, out of sight.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Lavenza,” the constable said when he reached our table. The soldiers hung back, glowering silently. “And you must be Miss Moritz.”

  “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir,” I replied calmly. “You seem to know me, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “On the contrary,” he replied, and for a moment I wondered if he suspected the truth. “As it seems you’ve been asking about me all over the city since your arrival.”

  So he wasn’t here in connection with Father Wilhelm’s murder.

  I let out a sigh of relief, which the constable mistook for shock. He shook his head, scoffing at me. “Don’t look so surprised. Word travels fast in this city, and I have ears everywhere. I’ll ask you this once: why have you been following me?”

  I endured his gaze without flinching. Rengel was a severe-looking man, tall and thin with an almost puritanical appearance. He had a gaunt face with small, deep-set eyes and a hooked nose. His hair, a reddish brown color, was cut short and partially hidden under a wide-brimmed clerical hat. Unlike the soldiers in their red coats, he wore a ruffled brown jacket over a simple black suit.

  “My cousin died at your hands,” I said. “I wanted to know why.”

  His thin, cracked lips drew back in an unpleasant frown. “Justine Moritz died because she was a murderess—no more, no less.”

  “And is it the custom in Geneva to hang defenseless women without a trial?”

  “I would remind you to watch your tone, woman,” he said disdainfully, with a glance at the soldiers behind him meant for my benefit. “Your cousin was guilty. The people deserved justice.”

  A mocking laugh passed from my lips. “How convenient that you have the authority to determine what passes for justice.”

  Rengel shook his head. “Consider this a warning, Miss Moritz: stay out of my affairs.”

  I pushed my chair back in an instant and stood face-to-face with him. “I’m not afraid of you,” I declared.

  “Penny’s done nothing wrong,” Elizabeth said, rising to stand at my side. “You have no business here.”

  The constable regarded her for a long moment, the muscles of his jaw clenched tightly with thinly veiled contempt. “One more piece of advice,” the constable said to me without taking his gaze away from her. “You should keep your distance from the Frankenstein family. Those who get close to them have a talent for suffering and death, and we wouldn’t you to meet the same fate as your cousin, now would we?”

  The implied threat was clear.

  “Leave her alone,” Elizabeth warned.

  “As for you, Miss Lavenza, you should be more concerned with your own troubles at the moment.” With that, the constable tipped his hat to us and turned to go, followed by the three soldiers at his side.

  “What did he mean by that?” Elizabeth said as we watched them leave. Before I could answer, a loud voice echoed through the air. “That almost sounds like…”

  We looked toward the source of the commotion and saw Victor on the other side of the street, protesting as more soldiers led him to the constable.

  “Victor!” Elizabeth’s voice rang out across the distance, and he glanced in our direction, startled. My creator’s eyes turned to me where I stood beside her, and his mouth dropped open in shock. Then the soldiers prodded him forward, marching toward the courthouse.

  “What’s happening?” Elizabeth stammered, confused.

  I didn’t answer. Elizabeth took off after her fiancé without noticing the creature, who nodded at me from the shadows where he lurked.

  When Victor and Elizabeth returned to the castle, I was waiting. I watched their carriage emerge from the forest, where I lingered among the trees. As the carriage rolled down the lonely road toward the towering castle, I spied Victor fidgeting restlessly while Elizabeth tried desperately to console him. He poked his head outside the box’s window and looked around until his gaze stopped at the spot where I stood. To him, I would have been little more than a speck over the distance between us, though I could see every line on his face through the eyes he had given me.

  Alphonse greeted them outside the gates, and as they shuffled inside together, Victor cast a final nervous glance in my direction. I drew nearer, no longer hidden by the forest but careful to keep out of sight all the same. Eventually Victor’s face appeared in one of the tower windows. We stared at each other for a long interval, until at last he vanished from view. Then I turned around and walked toward the forest, my cloak flapping in the breeze.

  I waited under the trees’ shade, my eyes closed as I listened to the sounds of the forest, as I learned to do in the woods outside the cottage so very long ago. The wind dropped, and a peaceful stillness settled over the forest. A twig snapped nearby, and I peered toward the forest’s edge where Victor appeared, searching for me.

  “Persephone?” he called.

  I moved from tree to tree without making a sound. It would have been child’s play to remain hidden from his line of sight. Victor didn’t notice when I stepped behind him. I reached for his shoulder and he spun around, the castle looming behind us.

  “This is where it happened,” I said casually, tracing a tree trunk with my fingers. “It was in these woods. Your monster murdered William, and I paid the price.”

  He narrowed his gaze at me, and I continued pacing, though Victor remained still. “I saw you at the café. What were you doing with Elizabeth?”

  I ignored the pointed question. “I trust you had a productive conversation with the constable.”

  “Were you behind that?” he demanded.

  “In a manner,” I acknowledged. “You really should be more careful with your belongings.”

  “You heard what Ernest said at dinner. You knew the constable’s men were searching the cemeteries,” he said, realizing what I had done. “You left my satchel there for him to find.”

  “Embroidered with your initials,” I said. “I’d wager he had a few questions for you about that.”

  In truth, it had been the creature who had retrieved the satchel from Victor’s bedroom. I was the one who had spotted it the night I first came to the castle, and the idea was mine, but my accomplice had been more than willing to carry out the deed.

  “Your plan failed,” Victor said. “They let me go. There wasn’t enough evidence to hold me.”

  I laughed. “You should give me more credit than that, Victor. This was about arousing suspicion and damaging your reputation. I don’t want you dead, or even in prison—at least not at the moment.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  I stopped pacing and looked at him. “You know what I want.”

  The wind picked up again, rustling the leaves fixed to their branches. “I can’t give you what you’re looking for,” Victor said.

  “Then you would condemn me to a life of eternal loneliness? Others won’t be as understanding of what lies hidden underneath these paints and powders. You gave yourself over to that kiss. I haven’t forgotten.”

  Victor’s expression softened, something I hadn’t seen since I found him again. “I should never have left you.”

  The sudden apology caught me off guard, and I struggled to hold my emotions in check. “You think that’s enough? After all you’ve done?”

  He did not flinch from my reproach. “You were right. I was a coward. I should have done something to stop the mob. I wish I could take it back.”

  For a moment, my anger lessened, and I found myself remembering the white flowers he had left at my sister’s grave. “She loved you, you know.”

  “Who?” he asked, confused.

 
; “Justine,” I replied. “From the moment you welcomed her into the castle, until the day she met Gerhardt. I don’t remember everything, but I remember that.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “No—you wouldn’t. What was she to you but a penniless servant without an education? How could a lowly girl like her have ever caught your eye when there was Elizabeth to compare her with?” I shook my head bitterly.

  “I’m so sorry, Persephone,” he said. “I’m sorry I did this to you.” For an instant he looked as if he was going to reach out to me and I stiffened, expressionless, but his hand remained at his side. The moment ended, and my feelings of resentment returned.

  “I don’t need your pity.”

  “The constable told me what happened to Father Wilhelm,” Victor said, searching my face for answers. “Tell me it was that thing. Tell me it wasn’t you.” When I didn’t answer, his expression changed, and he looked at me through new eyes. “How could you, Persephone? I wanted you to be better than him—better than me.” He finally looked away. “I should never have tried to bring you back.”

  His last words broke my heart. Anger coursed through my veins. “I’ll give you this last chance. Come with me now and leave all this behind, or I will burn your life down around you until there is nothing left but ash.”

  Victor only shook his head and turned his back on me. “Goodbye, Persephone.”

  “I will be with you on your wedding night,” I promised as he walked toward the castle.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I returned to the inn to find the last person in the world I expected to see waiting for me outside.

  “Miss Moritz?” Gerhardt said. “Elizabeth said I might find you here.” The alteration in his appearance was startling. His eyes were clear and thoughtful. His face was no longer swollen but clean-shaven, though his hair was longer than in Justine’s memories. He wore a set of clean, well-fitting clothes and a jacket. Only his leather boots remained the same.