Chapter 22

The journey ended, and we arrived in Paris. I quickly realized that I had pushed myself too hard and needed rest before continuing. My father took great care of me, but he didn't understand the true cause of my suffering and tried ineffective methods to help. He wanted me to socialize, but I couldn't bear the company of others. It wasn't that I despised them! They were my fellow humans, and I felt drawn to even the most repulsive among them, seeing them as angelic beings. 

But I couldn't bring myself to interact with them, knowing the horrors I had unleashed upon the world. If they knew the atrocities I was responsible for, they would surely abhor me and hunt me down.

My father eventually agreed to let me avoid society, attempting to console me with various arguments. Sometimes he thought my despair stemmed from facing a murder charge, trying to convince me that pride was futile. But I knew better.

I accused myself of murder, and my father, unsure whether to believe me or dismiss it as delirium, sometimes sought clarification. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to reveal the truth about the creature I had created. I feared being labeled mad and causing undue terror. So, I suffered in silence, longing for someone to share my burden with but unable to do so.

One day, my father, bewildered, begged me not to make such assertions again. But I insisted, vehemently declaring my guilt. I knew I was the cause of innocent lives lost, and the weight of it all haunted me.

As time passed, I grew calmer outwardly, though misery still dwelled within me. I suppressed my anguish, maintaining composure even as the memory of my crimes tormented me.

Before leaving Paris for Switzerland, I received a letter from Elizabeth:

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Start of Letter

My dear Friend,

Receiving a letter from my uncle in Paris filled me with joy; you're no longer so far away, and I can hope to see you in less than two weeks. I can only imagine how much you've suffered! I expect you'll look even worse than when you left Geneva. This winter has been torturous for me too, filled with anxious suspense. Still, I hope to see peace in your expression and to find some comfort and tranquility in your heart.

But I fear you may still be plagued by the same troubles that made you miserable a year ago, perhaps even worse with time. I wouldn't want to burden you further during this difficult period, but a conversation with my uncle before his departure has left me feeling the need for some explanation before we reunite.

Explanation! You might wonder what Elizabeth could possibly have to explain. If that's your reaction, then my questions are answered, and my doubts put to rest. But since you're far away, I realize you might both dread and welcome this explanation. In case you lean towards the latter, I can no longer delay writing what I've often wanted to express to you in your absence but lacked the courage to begin.

You know well, Victor, that our marriage has been the cherished plan of our parents since our childhood. We were raised with the expectation that it would inevitably happen. We were close friends during our youth, and I believe we grew to be dear companions as we got older. But as siblings can share a deep affection without desiring a romantic relationship, could that be our case too? Tell me honestly, Victor. Answer me, for the sake of our mutual happiness—do you not love someone else?

You've traveled, spent years in Ingolstadt, and when I saw you last autumn, so miserable, withdrawing from society, I couldn't help but wonder if you regretted our connection and felt obligated to fulfill our parents' wishes, even if they conflicted with your own desires. But that's faulty reasoning. I confess, my friend, that I love you, and in my dreams of the future, you've always been by my side. But I want your happiness as much as my own, and I must tell you that our marriage would make me eternally miserable unless it's your free choice. It pains me to think that, burdened as you are by misfortune, you might sacrifice the love and happiness that could bring you back to yourself simply out of a sense of honor. I, who love you so selflessly, might only add to your misery by standing in the way of your wishes. Victor, know that your cousin and childhood friend loves you sincerely, and the thought of causing you pain is unbearable. Be happy, my friend, and if you grant me this one request, know that nothing in this world could disrupt my peace.

Don't let this letter trouble you; don't feel obliged to reply tomorrow, or the next day, or even until you return, if it pains you. My uncle will keep me updated on your health, and if I see even a hint of a smile on your lips when we meet, whether because of this letter or anything else I've done, I'll need no other happiness.

Elizabeth Lavenza.

End of Letter

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This letter rekindled memories of the fiend's threat: "I will be with you on your wedding night!" He planned to destroy me and snatch away the happiness I had found. Death seemed inevitable, yet I pondered whether marriage would hasten it. Writing to Elizabeth, I revealed my fears and secrets, urging her silence until after our wedding.

Returning to Geneva, I found solace in Elizabeth's presence, but madness lingered. Despite my father's encouragement, the fiend's threat loomed large. Ignorant of his true intentions, I agreed to the marriage, believing it would seal my fate.

As the wedding day approached, I concealed my apprehension, but Elizabeth sensed my unease. Despite outward appearances, I dreaded the impending doom.

Preparations proceeded, and we planned to honeymoon at Villa Lavenza. Meanwhile, I remained vigilant against the fiend's potential attack, seeking solace in Elizabeth's company.