With Albert, everything was a drama. Franz had long come to expect this of his friend: that even the smallest, most mundane of occurrences was worthy of giving an excruciatingly detailed analysis, to be retold time and again, each repetition in grander fashion, and Albert devoted himself to giving everything they did such embellishment. If they went to the beach and Franz, a little unsteady on his feet, fell over into the water, Albert would relate animatedly how it was a near-drowning. Were it a horseback ride in the country during which they met and conversed with a lady riding alone, to the ears of all who would listen the tale went that they had supposedly rescued a lost damsel in distress, important in the gentry. Simple things became elaborate tapestries of imagination, and though it was an endless source of amusement for Franz, he sometimes wondered whether or not Albert could enjoy life's basic pleasures without making of them an enormously intricate fairytale.
Perhaps Albert did this because they so rarely had real adventures, the ones they read about in childhood books or that Albert's father would tell of, stories from his days on the high seas. Franz supposed that if they ever had a chance to do something truly unusual, it might cure Albert of his delusions. Certainly, the festival at Rome was an experience, but he didn't suppose it might sate Albert's venturesomeness for long. Still, if mentioned to Albert in a subtle way, it would be enough of an escapade to put on hold other imaginings and talks of drowning and high society and wild larks.
And so hints were dropped, details from previous Carnivals mentioned, and Albert's face grew bright with his own idea of what it might be like. Franz spoke of his own intentions to take a short holiday during the festivities, and his young friend listened raptly.
Albert's eyes intimated that he wanted to go, long before ever his mouth hinted at his enthusiasm for the idea. And, really, if he was denied, the young Viscount would undoubtedly become so dramatically woebegone that he could not be lived with. Naturally, Franz was obligated to spare himself and Albert that ordeal; travel plans were made for two, and Albert seemed to glow with excitement, praising Franz' good humor and generosity in bringing him along.
It would be the beginning of enough adventures and drama to fill two lifetimes for both of them, and at the end of it, Albert would come out wishing he'd never had any adventures at all, after everything they cost him.