Alexander, who had been idly stroking Emilia’s hand, looked up with mild alarm. “Sounds awful.”
“It is, but that’s also part of its charm,” Ethan said, grinning as he scrolled through his phone, probably looking for the trailer.
Lukas set down his wine glass with the kind of deliberate precision that made everyone in the room pay attention. “In Germany, we don’t do Christmas miracles. We have Krampus. He drags wicked children to hell. I’d like to see a princess movie about that.”
A full five seconds of silence followed, broken only by the snap of logs in the fireplace. Even the garden sounds from the open French doors seemed to pause.
“Lukas, my friend, what the hell,” Ethan finally managed, his phone forgotten in his lap.
“It is simply more realistic,” Lukas continued, warming to his theme as he leaned forward in his chair. “A princess cursed by Krampus, forced to fight her way back from hell, only to find that Christmas… is within.”
Sebastian had stretched out along the full length of the couch by the windows, one arm draped along the back, his entire posture radiating amusement. “That’s not a romantic comedy, Lukas. That’s a Nordic horror film.”
“Exactly. Add snow. It is festive. There would be a moral, obviously. And goats,” Lukas added with the kind of serious consideration other people reserved for stock portfolios.
Enzo, still standing by the window, gestured dramatically with his wine glass. “You genuinely concern me.”
Sebastian laughed, the sound rich and warm in the book-lined space. “You know what, I do think A Princess for Krampus would be oddly compelling though.”
“That’s because you were raised on French art house cinema,” Ethan replied, finally putting his phone away in defeat.
Enzo settled back onto the window seat with perfect timing, swirling his wine as he considered the group. “I’m still not sure about a Krampus movie,but La Befana could be interesting.”
Everyone turned toward him, conversations in other parts of the room trailing off as they sensed something entertaining brewing.
“La what now?” Ethan asked, leaning forward in his chair.
“La Befana,” Enzo said grandly, rising from the window seat to deliver what was clearly about to be a performance. “The Italian Christmas witch. She flies on a broomstick and delivers gifts to children on January 5th. Coal for the naughty, sweets for the good.”
Harper looked up from her conversation with Jules, curiosity winning out. “Do you leave her cookies?”
“No, wine,” Enzo replied smoothly, raising his glass in a small toast. “Obviously. Befana has standards.”
Tereza clapped her hands together from her spot near the fire. “Oooh, Krampus and Befana should do a crossover. They could fall in love. Christmas terror, but make it romantic.”
“Two mythical beings from rival traditions—” Enzo began, beginning to pace between the window seat and the fireplace.
Sebastian sat up on the couch, fully engaged now. “Forbidden broomstick romance.”
Lukas, who was already pulling out his phone, nodded seriously. “She brings coal, he brings beatings. Together, they discover—”
“True love?” Harper suggested drily from across the room.
“No, a shared passion for child discipline,” Lukas corrected without looking up from his screen.
“Christmas: The Reckoning,” Sebastian announced, gesturing broadly. “Tagline: This holiday season, naughty has consequences.”
Lukas’s fingers were already flying across his phone screen, his usual dry precision replaced by what could only be described as creative fervor. “I need to write this down.”
Alexander looked up from his quiet conversation with Emilia, genuine alarm creeping into his voice. “You’re not serious.”
Lukas finally looked up from his phone, a grin spreading across his usually serious face. “Watch me.”
The room erupted in laughter, the sound bouncing off the leather-bound books and high ceilings. Alexander leaned in and whispered in Emilia’s ear, his breath warm against her skin, “Welcome to my chosen family, darling. This is what you’re marrying into.”
“I think,” Emilia whispered back, her eyes twinkling as she surveyed the lively, utterly ridiculous scene—Enzo still pacing and gesticulating, Lukas furiously typing on his phone, Sebastian draped across the couch like a satisfied cat—“I’m going to fit in just fine.”
Alexander squeezed her hand, his smile warm and content. This was what he’d wanted—for Emilia to see this side of his life, these people who, for all their eccentricities and international postcodes, were his most loyal friends, and for her to feel she could fit in. Watching her easy laughter as the group continued to develop their increasingly ridiculous Christmas horror slash romance film, Alexander knew she already did.