Without a doubt, there were infinite ways to spend Christmas Eve enjoyably. And this, the one they had chosen, could not be one of them.

It didn’t matter that the atmosphere lent itself to celebrating the holidays, with decorations or a kind word in every corner. Nor did it matter that the food offered at street stalls or in the shops of Saint-Genix was comparable to that of the best bistros in Paris. And it was even less relevant that, with Julien by his side, the day seemed to be slipping away in a breath, making Francis momentarily forget all the stress of not being able to be in Chambéry in time for dinner that night.

No, the fact that Francis was enjoying himself despite the strange circumstances surrounding him could only be a passing delusion, likely caused by whatever Mrs. Tellier had put in the coffee.

That was what he tried to tell himself, but with each passing minute, his defenses weakened. And by the time the afternoon arrived, he had completely abandoned any attempt to convince himself that he was being tortured by being stranded in a foreign town with the man who was supposed to be his rival.

Thinking back on it, Francis had only made two mistakes that day.

The first was taking too much interest in Julien’s circumstances. Because, although he had surprised himself by wanting to know more about him, he hadn’t failed to notice Julien’s discomfort when he asked about his early departure from Lyon in childhood.

And one didn’t need to be a genius in the realm of emotions to deduce that must have been a sensitive subject for Julien.

The second mistake was something less within his control and was more a series of circumstances that led to the cat having to stay with them at the hotel: for some unclear reason—though Francis suspected sheer collective selfishness—not only was there no owner looking for a lost pet, but there was also no one who could take care of it during the holidays.

“You know you could have left it with Mrs. Lemaire, right?” Julien remarked at some point when they had resigned themselves to canceling their plans and returned to the hotel, cat in tow. “She already takes care of plenty, and she even said she wouldn’t mind taking in another. In fact, I’m convinced she was already feeding this one.”

Francis thought so too; he had seen the number of bowls that neighbor had placed outside her house, providing fresh water and food for any stray animal that passed by. And yet, he found himself saying:

“Mrs. Lemaire has good intentions, but she doesn’t live in a place suitable for keeping so many animals.”

Her house was small, and from the outside, one could tell she had her own pets inside, as they occasionally peeked through the windows. Again, it wasn’t a bad place, if one thought about it. But somehow, for Francis, it wasn’t enough.

“Thinking about it, I believe you’re right,” Julien suddenly considered. “It’s much better for it to stay in a more permanent home, where it’ll get more attention.”

“It’ll have to be your sister’s, then.”

“Have you thought of a name for it yet? Because I was thinking you could go for something classic but nice, like Coco or Étoile…”

“I said I’m not going to name it…”

“Oh, so you’re letting me call it whatever I want? Temporarily, I mean. Until you leave it with my family.”

Francis hesitated, then cursed himself for looking so unsure. Wasn’t it for the best, after all, to leave the matter in Julien’s relatives’ hands? It was undeniable that it was, and yet, Francis didn’t like the idea of someone else naming the very animal he had rescued.

“I already have a name,” he said, without thinking twice. “Lucifer.”

“Lucifer?” Julien repeated, more amused than anything. “Not to judge, but isn’t that a bit cynical for a name? Especially at Christmas.”

“Not at all, it suits him perfectly. Or wasn’t it him who manipulated me first into getting him down from the tree and then into keeping him?”

Francis didn’t want to hear the “No, a little girl tricked you, and then you decided to keep the animal of your own free will,” and fortunately, Julien had the good sense not to say anything—though he could no longer contain his amused smile.

“Lucifer it is, then.”

Realistically, while one might think Francis was exaggerating in attributing a manipulative nature to a creature as seemingly helpless as a cat, the truth was that this one did seem to know exactly what it was doing with each of its actions.

Its devious tactics didn’t work on Francis, of course, but it was clear that others weren’t so lucky: Julien spent the entire walk talking about how wonderful Lucifer was, even petting him whenever Francis was distracted. And once they returned to the hotel, the staff themselves, upon seeing the cat, immediately suggested offering him something to eat—as if he hadn’t already been nibbling on bits of food Julien had given him during the stroll—going so far as to allow him into their staff-only area.

Francis had planned to lock the creature in his room, along with some food and water, while he went… where, exactly?

Julien offered again to take another walk around town, this time without stopping at the market and perhaps visiting the church. Francis had refused before, but now, perhaps because Julien had been so kind in accompanying him in his search for an owner for Lucifer when he had absolutely no reason to, he felt obliged to give in.

There was nothing improper about accepting an invitation from someone considered your arch-enemy, right?

Sure, up until that moment, their relationship had been more of a back-and-forth, where they insulted each other through their respective newspaper columns. Sure, going out together like old friends was far from what Francis could have ever imagined happening if he were to meet Julien in person one day.

But wasn’t this better?

Francis had assumed he would never come face-to-face with the poet who returned his jabs multiplied by ten. He had never considered, therefore, what he would do if he actually did meet him.

A duel seemed excessive. A fight, absurd—especially considering he was the one who had started the conflict. Perhaps his reaction on the train, trying to flee as quickly as possible or ignore the problem, had been the most appropriate response. But now, this… this fraternizing to the point where they had already spent more than twenty-four hours in each other’s company without a major argument breaking out? That was unheard of.

And the most unsettling part was that Francis didn’t mind it.

After leaving Lucifer with Mrs. Tellier and the rest of the hotel staff, the two of them set off towards the town square, spending the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon strolling through the market and interacting with the residents of Saint-Genix.

Unlike Julien, who had practically stormed through every single stall in a shopping frenzy, Francis had no intention of buying anything. Content to simply look and listen to whatever commentary the other had to offer—serving as something of a guide—the most he did was purchase a small gift for his friends in Chambéry, should they ever manage to arrive there.

They had lunch in town, at a small local restaurant, and just as Francis had more or less decided to finally bring up the topic he had chosen to avoid the night before, another interruption stopped him before he could even open his mouth.

Specifically, what pulled his attention away was the sudden arrival of a sled that, having slid down a nearby slope, covered his feet in snow and very nearly ran them over.

“You!” he exclaimed the moment he realized the person holding the reins was someone familiar to him. “So I finally find you! You think it’s funny, leaving me stranded at the top of that tree after I so altruistically rescued the cat you didn’t even want?”

“Oh! The gentleman who almost fell after climbing barely a meter up the first branch!” The girl grinned as she recognized him. She didn’t seem to be mocking him… or was she? “What happened to the kitten you rescued? Is it okay?”

“It is. No thanks to you.”

“But I recruited you to help, so technically, I did half the work,” she pointed out, entirely self-assured.

“Hey, Louise, is this that weird tourist you mentioned?” asked the boy sitting behind her on the sled, eyeing Francis.

“The very same. What a coincidence, huh? Good thing it was a false alarm in the end—Bijou was at home all along, just hiding in the wood storage where I couldn’t find him.”

“Forget about the animals for a second—what about me?” Francis pressed, because even if there was no fixing the situation now, he would at least like some sort of acknowledgment. “You should have helped me when you saw I wasn’t coming down!”

“You didn’t come down?” Louise repeated, blinking. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t stick around long enough to check.” She said it without a trace of concern. “Although, now that I think about it… How could I have helped? You don’t exactly look light enough to carry, but I suppose if I grabbed you by the legs and pulled—”

“You could have called someone,” Francis interrupted, refusing to imagine that scenario. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at recruiting people?”

“You mean like him?”

Louise gestured toward Julien, who was standing closest to her. And suddenly, Francis felt an overwhelming need to change the subject. Because yes, it would have been nice if she had called for someone who actually had the means to help… but he certainly didn’t want to admit, in front of his rival, that he had needed that help.

Sure, Julien had ended up helping him anyway, having coincidentally been in the area. But there was a difference between suffering a momentary humiliation and openly confessing he had been planning to rely on assistance all along.

“You know what? Let’s just leave the past in the past. The cats are fine, and that’s all that matters. Now, if you’ll excuse us…”

Francis made a move to grab Julien’s arm and walk away then and there, trusting that the children wouldn’t follow them. But of course, things were never that simple, especially when there was still one person who had yet to contribute to the conversation.