Snowdrop (A Frankenstein Story)

Chapter 16

The uproar over Amelia's murder was far greater than the uproar over William Frankenstein's. Their differences were great: one was a young boy, the other, a beautiful and desirable woman; one was allegedly by the boy's fair-haired nanny while the other was carried out by a grotesque monster. Perhaps they weren't all that different? Men were tossed out of the courtroom of Felix's trail almost as soon as they entered. Rossignol struggled against them as he made his way to the tumultuous room. With great difficulty, he managed to keep his mask on.

The chamber rose several stories above Rossignol almost like a theater and housed angry spectators eager for the court to arrive at a verdict, even when nothing had yet been discussed. In the center of the cylindrical chamber stood Felix, or what was left of Felix, hissing and spitting at the angry crowd. Priests and other clergymen sat a safe distance above the madness, watching the spectacle with grim faces. Felix, had, at some point, shredded his clothes, forcing many women to flee in disgust. He was undoubtedly a monster. Victor was careless in his construction. Rossignol found him to be revolting. None of the pieces that brought this new form of Felix together seemed to match: one arm was bigger than the other, his chest was flat, and his belly was big. The skin discoloration was obvious.

Rossignol was led to the witness stand that sat elevated, but close to the caged Felix. He prayed that Felix would not call him "brother" in front of the court, it would be his own death sentence. Once seated, Rossignol scanned the room, he found that he had allies in the musty, damp chamber. In the many months he'd spent creating this facade, he became a beacon of generosity and compassion. The spectators were not so overcome with bloodlust that they forgot to offer him encouragement.

"Signor Rossignol," started the judge as he stared down the chamber at him. "State your full name."

He understood Italian better than he thought he would, but a translator who spoke French sat near him regardless. "My name, your honor, is Gabriel Rossignol." His first name was something dear and private to him. Exposing it to such a large crowd made him feel exposed and weak, not unlike his first few days alive in such an unforgiving world. An angry, plump woman was one of the first humans he had ever come into contact with and her first reaction had been to shriek as she chased him from her house. Her scream riled the villagers to chase him away in his poor, famished state. A repeat of that incident was not something he wanted.

Beneath the scrutiny of the Italian locals, Rossignol thought back to Justine and what she faced during her trial in Geneva. Had she been afraid? If he could go back and change what he caused, he would. Rossignol would restore her life if it were but that simple. But as anguish and regret threatened to overturn his calm testimony he thought back to the reason why he had chosen the name Gabriel. Rossignol often thought of himself as the fallen angel, the abomination doomed to crawl the earth, unloved and alone. Meeting Georgia allowed him to see himself as something more heroic, noble. He could not fail her or his namesake, a voice from God to the teachers of humanity. He wanted benevolence and compassion, and above all, love.

Below him, Felix snarled and spat, effectively bringing Rossignol back to the grim scene around him.

"Was Signorina Amelia Rizzoli attending your ball when she was murdered?" Asked the judge. Rossignol answered affirmatively. "Why did you invite her to this ball? Were you not the man she was entrusted too?"

Interesting question to ask a witness. "Your honor, Signorina Rizzoli's father was one of the first men to hire me to salvage his lost goods when I came to Venice. His kindness enabled me to make a name for myself. I invited his family to the ball, Signorina Rizzoli was the one who came. She was not entrusted into my care. Signor Morea, the other victim, was her chaperone. Both were in my company. Signorina Rizzoli believed she was the guest of honor, she was not, however, she was an honored guest."