Franz had never experienced such a jarring shift in mood. One moment he'd been surrounded by laughter and celebration, and the next, the city felt like a graveyard.
It was as if some dark force had flipped a switch, plunging Rome into suffocating darkness. The moon wouldn't rise for hours, and the streets Franz traveled through were pitch black. Within ten minutes, his carriage, or rather, the Count's carriage, pulled up in front of his hotel.
Dinner was ready and waiting, but since Albert had told him not to expect him back soon, Franz sat down to eat alone. The hotel owner, who was used to seeing them dine together, asked about Albert's absence. Franz simply explained that his friend had accepted an invitation the night before.
The sudden darkness, the oppressive silence, it all left Franz feeling unsettled. Despite the owner's attentive service, constantly checking if he needed anything, Franz ate in brooding silence.
