Ebony Castle

Even on Christmas Eve, the blizzard continued to rage. Outside the window, nothing but white snow was visible, and both the internet and phone connection were unstable. After several attempts, the innkeeper in the village finally answered the phone, and Jean listened with a serious expression for a while.“It seems like everyone’s been struggling because of the avalanche.”Jean said after hanging up. Doha, who was carefully hanging a pinecone on the tree, looked up.“No one was hurt, right?”“No. But one house collapsed, and the road to the city is completely blocked. …Looks like Eden won’t be going to London anytime soon.”Jean’s tone was light, but it wasn’t entirely a laughing matter. Doha glanced down at his hands, remembering that he hadn’t been able to play the piano for several days. Even though he was diligently keeping up with his rehabilitation, the inability to place his hands on the keys made him anxious.Jean squatted next to Doha and picked up a pinecone with a string attached.“People like Ellen, who have lived in the village for a long time, seem to take it all in stride. This weather is normal here… Ah.”Jean turned, and Doha followed his gaze. The secretary was standing in the doorway of the dining room.“Scott! Are you finishing early today?”Jean asked. The secretary, dressed less formally than usual, pulled out a chair and plopped down.“It’s Christmas Eve. I deserve a break too.”“Wow… What a surprise. Didn’t you work through last year? Even on Christmas Day?”“That was because the CEO was working, so I did too. Now that he’s reduced his workload, so has mine.”He answered simply. Doha recalled seeing Tristan listening to music at a time when he would normally have been in his office. It seemed, as the secretary had once mentioned, that Tristan really was cutting back on his work.Jean, intrigued, turned around and asked,“So, if Locke no longer has work, what happens to you, Scott?”“…I’m not sure.”The secretary’s face stiffened as he responded.“If the CEO needs me, I’ll stay here. If not, I might return to London.”His gaze briefly flicked over to Doha’s face. Doha recalled the conversation they had once shared, alone in a dark room, where the secretary had expressed his wish for Doha to bring Tristan back to London. If he had been watching Doha with that hope in mind, he would have been disappointed by now. It wasn’t something Doha could accomplish, nor was he willing to take any unnecessary risks.Jean stretched with a grunt.“I guess I should head to the kitchen. Let’s keep dinner simple tonight. The kitchen’s a mess from preparing tomorrow’s feast.”“If you take a few days off, I’m sure the CEO would allow it. He even gave me a three-day break as a Christmas gift.”“I already got a tree; I can’t ask for time off too. And if I take a break, what will everyone eat? I can’t let Eden starve.”Doha briefly thought about Hazel’s cup noodles in the pantry, but decided to stay quiet since it didn’t seem like a good idea. Jean stood up and pushed in the chair.“Eden, see you later. Can you finish up here?”“Yes, see you at dinner.”When Jean left, Doha and the secretary were left alone in the dining room, which had been decorated to feel like Christmas after two days of effort.Lowell’s eyes swept over the two pinecones Doha held, the various homemade decorations hanging from the tree, and the few gift boxes beneath it. He pointed at the round snowmen scattered around the tree with his index finger and asked,“Where did those come from?”“Ah… Jean made them by baking egg whites in the oven.”“And the Christmas stockings?”“They were originally Hazel’s red socks.”They had cut the socks, inserted flat cardboard inside, and added cotton to the tops. Doha had also crafted a small Santa hat from the cut pieces, which was now perched near the top of the tree. Along with gingerbread people Jean had baked, red ribbons Hazel had found, and a deer figure from a cake, the tree was as decorated as it could be using what was available in the mansion. Despite their best efforts, Doha thought the result looked a bit shabby for a Christmas tree in Tristan Locke’s home.The secretary’s gaze reflected mild disdain. After surveying the tree from top to bottom one more time, he pointed at the presents and asked,“Are those the gifts you brought?”“…Yes.”Six small boxes were clustered under the tree.The silence stretched on. Doha, holding a pinecone that pressed into his hand, stepped back and carefully assessed the overall balance of the decorations. The logs crackling in the fireplace, which Jean had arranged, filled the room with warmth, and the fresh scent of pine resin blended with the heated air.If they were going to have dinner here, it wouldn’t hurt to stoke the fire a little more. Doha bent down and absentmindedly added more logs. Just then, the secretary, who had been quiet until that point, spoke up.“You’ve fully adjusted to life in this mansion, haven’t you, Eden?”“…”Doha hesitated, poking at the fire with the poker.“Well, it’s a good thing.”The secretary muttered under his breath.Doha turned his head. The secretary, sitting in his usual upright posture, was slumped in his chair, staring at the flames flickering in the fireplace. The firelight flickered in the reflection of his glasses.Doha, still standing by the tree, asked,“Where is Mr. Locke?”Without looking at Doha, the secretary replied with a blank expression,“I haven’t seen him today either.”That was true for Doha as well. Although he had woken up quite early, Tristan wasn’t in his bedroom. He had assumed Tristan would be in his office, but that didn’t seem to be the case either.“Sometimes he disappears like this.”The secretary added, his gaze drifting toward the snow-covered landscape outside the window.“Normally, he’d drive out somewhere, but today that’s not possible… so he must be somewhere inside the mansion.”“Does he usually go to the village?”Now that Doha thought about it, there had been a time when he encountered Tristan’s car in the woods and rode in the passenger seat. The secretary glanced at him and shook his head.“The CEO does not visit the village.”“……”“Since arriving here over a year ago, the only people the CEO has met are the staff of this mansion and you, Eden.”“Then…”This mansion was in the middle of a forest with nothing around for miles. Doha stopped himself from asking where Tristan could possibly be driving to if not the village. It wasn’t something he needed to know.The secretary’s cold eyes fixed on Doha, a slight twist forming on his lips.“It might just be a coincidence, but ever since you started visiting this mansion, the CEO has been going out more frequently.”“……”“Of course, you wouldn’t know. During the three days you’re here, the CEO stays close and offers assistance.”“…Yes.”“It’s good that you’re getting used to this place, but I hope you don’t forget how much of a privilege it is to come and go from this mansion.”With that, the secretary stood, leaving Doha standing silently.“Have a good Christmas Eve. I’ll see you tomorrow.”“…Yes.”After the secretary left, Doha set down the fire poker he had been holding. There was truth in the secretary’s words. While Doha was growing more accustomed to the mansion, nothing had fundamentally changed. The fact that he could move his hands and digest food was all thanks to Tristan’s treatment. The moment Tristan turned his back on him, Doha would once again be confined to bed, slowly succumbing to paralysis day by day.***Tristan did not appear in the dining room during dinner. Doha had a simple meal with Jean and Hazel, who, like the secretary, had been given the night off. Hazel, in more casual clothes, even smiled faintly a few times at Jean’s jokes while eating.“Well, since we have a party tomorrow, let’s call it an early night,” Jean said with a yawn after the dessert plates were cleared. The flames in the dining room’s fireplace had dimmed and were now a soft, bluish glow.“Do you need anything else? If not, get some rest, Eden.”“I can help clean up.”“No, please don’t. Do you know how much trouble I got into last time after you helped? Locke called me to his office and gave me a good scolding.”Jean waved his hands to stop Doha. Standing near the Christmas tree, Doha watched as Jean and Hazel stacked the plates onto trays.“Sleep well. Merry Christmas in advance!”Jean gave Doha a quick hug before taking the trays downstairs. After exchanging goodnight with Hazel as well, Doha turned off the lights in the now-empty dining room. He took one last look at the Christmas tree, illuminated by the dim glow of the fireplace, before heading to the guest room.For some reason, he felt uneasy. It seemed like he should head upstairs to Tristan’s room on the mansion’s top floor. He hadn’t seen or heard from him all day, so logically, he should leave it be, but even so, Doha kept his phone nearby while he washed up, just in case.Thanks to Hazel, who had prepared the room beforehand, the fire in the guest room’s fireplace was strong, and with the electric heater on, the room felt cozy and warm. Beneath the clean, soft bedding, two hot water bottles had been placed. Doha turned off the lights, snuggled under the covers, and pulled the blanket up to his nose.He had been worn out from a few days of dealing with both Tristan during the nights and Jean’s Christmas party preparations during the day, but even after lying down for a while, sleep did not come. Doha tossed and turned under the heavy blanket, clutching the hot water bottle. From beyond the thick curtains, he could hear the wind rattling the window frame.Beep.His phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a notification from his messenger app. Doha reached for his phone, his heart pounding fast, trying to calm himself. The name on the screen was Julian Svensson. The tension in his chest eased.Once his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the screen, he saw a picture of Julian on a beach, wearing sunglasses and a short-sleeved shirt, smiling. Beneath the photo was the message:‘Merry Christmas! I timed this message with the time difference from Sydney. I’ll be back in London in January—let’s meet up then!’“……”It was midnight on December 25th. Lying in Tristan’s mansion, receiving a message from sunny Australia felt surreal. It was as though someone had forcibly reminded him that the world outside this mansion, across the distant ocean, still existed.He wasn’t in the mood to reply, so he turned off the screen. He’d answer Julian when he reached out to Niklas tomorrow.Once he’d opened his eyes, it became even harder to sleep. Doha lay in bed, half-covered by the blanket, staring up at the ceiling. The red glow of the fireplace softly flickered across the ceiling.The guest room was larger than his flat in London. The bed alone seemed twice the size of his own. Although it was still smaller than the bed upstairs, the space on either side of his body felt uncomfortably vast.As he thought of Tristan’s bed, he found himself imagining the mansion’s master, likely asleep in it at this very moment. Doha shifted uneasily, hugging the hot water bottle tighter as he pressed his cheek against the smooth surface of the pillow.He must have dozed off for a bit. A creak on the floorboards woke him.“…?”Was it a sound from his dream? Doha sat up slightly, listening closely, and thought he heard faint footsteps. A sliver of light slipped through the bottom of the door from the hallway.Footsteps descended from the third floor, coming to a brief stop outside Doha’s guest room.“……”His heart pounded in his chest. Doha lay frozen, staring at the door, until the footsteps slowly moved away again, and the hallway light switched off without a sound. The mansion’s midnight silence gradually seeped back into the room.He closed his eyes again, then opened them. He tossed and turned, burying his face in the soft sheet beneath the pillow. Time dragged on. Even as the hot water bottle in his arms cooled, the footsteps never passed by his door again.“Ugh…”Eventually, Doha gave up and got out of bed. He switched on the bedside lamp and threw on a thick padded jacket over his pajamas. He also turned off the heater. In the small mirror on the wall, his face appeared pale and ghostly.Creak.The second-floor hallway had a bluish tint in the early morning darkness. Even with soft fur slippers on, the old wooden floor was cold, and every step made a sharp creak. Doha tiptoed past numerous closed doors, trying to muffle his footsteps.Though he doubted it, the first place he checked was Tristan’s office. The neatly arranged room was empty. Other than the absence of one chair that had been leaning against the wall, nothing had changed.He also checked the nearby music room. The large armchair was cold, without any warmth left behind. Doha briefly rested his hand on the small chair next to it before stepping back out.There were still many rooms down the hallway he hadn’t been in. Some must have been the servants’ quarters, but when he had followed Hazel around earlier as she searched for groceries, he had noticed that many rooms were used for storage or left entirely empty. There were plenty of bathrooms left unfinished and empty rooms collecting dust. The mansion, which had once felt endlessly vast and mysterious, sometimes now seemed like a hollow shell.Doha passed his own room again and headed toward the opposite end of the hall—the way he had first come when he arrived at the mansion.Creak.The hallway floor groaned beneath him. Doha stopped in front of the closed library door.He considered turning back to his room. Just because Tristan had helped him so far, had lent him his time and body without asking for anything in return, didn’t mean Doha had any obligation or right to worry about him.It felt like unnecessary concern, an intrusion into something he shouldn’t meddle in. Yet, Doha still reached out, lightly knocked, and then pulled the door open.“…”The chandelier overhead was dark. The high-ceilinged, round room was filled with a cold, black darkness, like still water. In the far distance, only a small flicker of flame clung to the dying logs in the fireplace.Maybe this wasn’t the place after all. Doha turned to leave but paused and turned slowly back around. There was no reason for the small fire in the far fireplace to still be burning. Hazel wouldn’t have stopped by here before heading to bed to stoke it.He crossed the wide floor. A large armchair faced away from him, near the dying fire. On the floor beside it, two empty wine bottles and a single round glass were haphazardly discarded.Doha hesitated before taking his final steps. He circled the chair and stopped by the fireplace.There, bathed in the faint orange glow of the flickering flames, was a man. He was reclining awkwardly against the chair’s curved back, fast asleep. A fur coat draped over him like a blanket, and on the footstool, which his feet rested on, he wore fur slippers much like Doha’s. Resting on his chest was a red-bound hardcover book, left open as if he had been reading it before falling asleep.Doha stood there for a long time, gazing down at Tristan Locke. The faint firelight rippled slowly across his pale, smooth cheeks and defined features like a soft wave.Doha had never stared at him this closely or for this long before. Whenever Tristan was awake, Doha could never bear to look at him directly. He always felt that if their eyes met, all his fears, shame, unreasonable resentment, and anger would be laid bare for Tristan to see.Perhaps it was because this was the first time he had seen Tristan asleep. As if the cloudy veil of emotions that always distorted his view had been lifted, for the first time, Tristan appeared clear to him. Before him was not the master of Neim, but a strange man, resting in front of his eyes.The face was marked by faint traces of fatigue, its once-present ease and composure gone. Pale and worn, it was the face of a man haunted by exhaustion, as if chased for too long by something unseen.“…”What were you running from that brought you here? What tormented you so much that you sought refuge in a place where you didn’t want to see anyone, where you could only breathe in isolation?And I, knowing nothing of your pain, so blinded by my own circumstances, barged in with my dirty feet. Did I ruin the only place you had to escape, forcing you to confront what you wanted to forget?“…”Light particles trembled delicately on the long, evenly spaced golden eyelashes framing Tristan’s eyes. Doha silently traced the fine lines and shadows of the man’s face, the gentle curves and sharp edges falling in a graceful cascade. It was like studying a maze, a map, as if somewhere in those contours lay the answer he sought.A low wind moaned through the chimney. Tristan’s sleeping face twitched slightly, his brows momentarily knitting together.Doha snapped back to his senses. It would be awkward if Tristan woke up while he was here.He turned to leave, but hesitated again, then walked back. Crouching down as quietly as he could, Doha took a few logs from the firewood basket and gently placed them in the dying fireplace.Crackle.The white ash of the burned wood collapsed, and embers rose into the air. Doha froze, listening intently. When no sound came from behind him, he slowly added another log. He arranged the dry branches and leaned in, softly blowing to fan the small flame.The flickering fire fought for life before finally catching the new wood. A faint blue glow spread and quickly grew hotter. Doha warmed his hands by the heat as he straightened up.When he turned around, Tristan’s eyes were open.“Ah…”Doha opened his mouth to offer some sort of apology or explanation but closed it again. Tristan Locke’s gray eyes gazed up at him in a dreamy, distant way, as though he were still half-asleep.“Eden.”Tristan finally spoke, his voice low and thick with sleep. He repeated Doha’s name, the ends of his lips curling slightly as he did.“Merry Christmas.”“…”Doha stepped toward the hand Tristan extended, as if drawn by an invisible force. His arm was pulled, and he was gently tugged down to lie atop the man. Tristan lifted the fur coat and wrapped it over Doha, letting out a slow, deep breath as he closed his eyes again.Even through two layers of clothing, Doha could feel the warmth radiating from Tristan’s firm chest. He twisted slightly, resting his cheek against Tristan’s shoulder. From the man’s warm neck, Doha could smell a faint trace of his body scent mixed with the sweetness of wine. One of his slippers dangled for a moment before falling to the floor. His bare foot recoiled from the cold air.“…This really is troublesome.”Tristan murmured softly, his hand lazily trailing down Doha’s back, brushing the spot where Neim rested beneath his clothes.“That day, when you came to me… I should have sent you away without meeting you.”Despite those words, Tristan pulled Doha closer, wrapping a strong arm around his waist and intertwining their legs atop the footstool.Doha stayed still, waiting for Tristan to say more, but only the steady rhythm of his breathing could be heard. When Doha looked down, the man’s beautiful face was already lost in deep sleep once more.***Doha awoke feeling cold on his exposed feet and face. He burrowed into the warmth beside him, snuggling against the solid surface and rubbing his cheek against it as he let out a slow breath.As he shifted, his foot, perched at the edge of the footstool, slipped off. With it, the leg tangled with his also fell.“Ah!”Startled, Doha shot up into a sitting position, only then realizing where he was. This wasn’t his flat in London or the guest room at the mansion. He wasn’t lying in a bed—he had been asleep on top of Tristan.The fire in the small fireplace had already turned to cold ash. Doha shifted backward in the faint gray darkness, only to land awkwardly on Tristan Locke’s abdomen.“……”His body froze in an uncomfortable position. The shock to Tristan was one thing, but even through the thick fabric of his pajamas, Doha could feel something hard pressing against his rear. He didn’t dare move in any direction, fearing he might stimulate him further.Then, a firm hand emerged from the darkness and grasped Doha’s rounded hip.“…Next time,” came a deep, drowsy voice.“Try waking me like a normal person… by calling my name or shaking my shoulder.”With his help, Doha finally managed to move off to the side, awkwardly apologizing to the invisible face.“I’m sorry.”“…What time is it?”“It’s still dark. You should sleep some more.”His body, stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping in the cold, creaked like rusty machinery. Doha started to stand up, thinking of heading back to the guest room, but Tristan Locke, with a slow exhale, interrupted.“Could you open the curtains?”“…Yes.”Doha pulled his collar tight and approached the nearby window. When he pulled the heavy curtains back a little, the outside was surprisingly faintly lit. It must have been about seven or eight in the morning. The snow had stopped, and the sky was gray.“…Hm.”A low sigh followed. Looking back, he saw Tristan Locke sitting up in the dim light, casually ruffling his tousled hair.“My head feels like it’s splitting.”The furrowed brow showed genuine discomfort, making this the most human expression Doha had ever seen on him. Doha nearly chuckled, remembering friends back in university nursing their heads the day after a party.“I’ll bring you some water and painkillers.”He cautiously offered, but Tristan waved a hand lightly to decline.“It’s fine. Just give me a few minutes to gather myself.”“Understood.”While Tristan leaned his head back against the chair with his eyes closed, Doha picked up the fallen book from beside the chair and placed it on the table. He also sorted through the three scattered slippers, selecting two that matched his size. The fur lining was damp and cold under his feet. Though he hadn’t noticed the cold while sleeping, now that the shared warmth between them was gone, his body felt chilly.Even with the fire burning, it would take some time for the large library to warm up. It would be quicker for Tristan to head to his bedroom on the third floor and for Doha to return to the guest room.Doha stood quietly, watching Tristan as he slept. Suddenly, Tristan opened one eye. His long golden lashes blinked lazily.“Why are you staring like that?”“If you’re going to sleep here, I can light the fire for you.”“If I sleep any longer in this chair, my back will bend.”Tristan, after a quick stretch, stood and slipped into his fur coat and the discarded slippers, then headed toward the door. Doha, shivering under his padded coat, hurried to follow him. The cold was so biting that his teeth chattered when he relaxed. His breath fogged white in front of him as he spoke, thankful that he hadn’t caught a cold overnight.The hallway was no less cold. Even in their rooms, it would take time for the fireplaces and electric heaters to warm things up. Doha stopped in front of the door to the guest room, which soon came into view.Tristan, walking ahead, also halted naturally. When he looked back at Doha with a curious expression, Doha pointed to the door with his padded sleeve.“I’m going to head in now.”For a moment, Tristan’s expression made Doha question if he’d mistaken the door, but the distance to the stairs confirmed that this was indeed the right one. Tristan, standing not far away, continued to gaze at Doha intently.“Should I go up and light the fire in your bedroom?”Doha belatedly asked. The man still looked unwell, and one of his pale, delicate hands was resting against the wall.“Somehow… the third floor feels too far away,” Tristan mumbled slowly. “I feel a bit dizzy.”“…Then, please come inside.”Doha hurriedly opened the guest room door and helped him inside. Tristan’s heavy arm draped over Doha’s shoulder, making his knees buckle under the weight.Fortunately, there was still a faint warmth in the guest room from the heater that had been on last night. Doha staggered across the room with Tristan, who sank into the disheveled bed without resistance. As he tucked the large man under the blanket, Tristan remained still.“I’ll light the fire now,” Doha said, turning on the heater. He considered whether to go downstairs and fill a hot water bottle, but Tristan, lying straight under the blanket, spoke.“Come in.”His voice was low, brushing gently against Doha’s ears like a soft caress.“You were my heater all night. It was warm and nice.”“…I’ll go once the fire is lit.”A strange ache twisted in Doha’s chest. He focused on gathering logs and kindling for the fireplace, coaxing a flame from the slumbering embers. The fire soon crackled to life.Even as his frozen hands warmed by the fire, his back remained tense. Something about the room felt unfinished. When he finally turned around, Tristan’s face, peeking out from under the blanket, seemed serene as if he were already asleep.Relieved, Doha approached the bed and lifted the corner of the blanket to slip inside. The moment he lay down, Tristan’s strong arm pulled him in close.“-Ah!”Without hesitation, Tristan’s hands moved, unzipping Doha’s padded coat and stripping it off him until he was in just his pajamas. He was quickly pulled into Tristan’s embrace, his cheek resting on the broad chest as he curled up. It was the same position as in the library, but this time, the warmth of Tristan’s body began to thaw Doha’s cold, stiff limbs.“…Mm.”Tristan’s breath brushed against Doha’s hair.“Your body is frozen. You’re not much help right now.”“…I’m sorry.”“I feel like my body heat is being drained instead.”As he said, his body was actually warmer. When I took a deep breath, his warmth and scent flowed into me. The tip of my cold nose tingled as it thawed.I was supposed to pull away after being told I was disqualified as a heater, but after feeling his warmth, I didn’t want to retreat to the cold. We spent the entire night in this position, so it should be fine. His arms still wrapped around my back didn’t seem eager to let go, so Doha stayed in Tristan’s embrace. The anxiety that had prickled up slowly faded away, as if being soothed to sleep. It was a peaceful, cozy sleep that only the other person could provide.***While Doha was tugging at the red sweater to find the sleeves, a knock came at the door.“Are you dressed?”It was Hazel’s voice. It seemed she had already finished changing.“Yes!”Doha finally found the sleeve, pushed his arm through, and opened the door. Hazel, dressed in a black wool dress, smiled at Doha when she saw him.“As expected, since it’s the CEO’s clothes, the size is a bit big. How about folding the sleeves once? Let me help you.”“Thank you.”When he held out his arms, Hazel neatly folded the sleeves that covered the back of his hands. As Doha glanced at the full-length mirror in the closet behind her, he noticed that Tristan’s sweater was soft and warm, but he wasn’t used to wearing such a bright color, so the reflection in the mirror felt unfamiliar.“There, all done.”Hazel took a step back after tidying up the bottom of the sweater, giving Doha a look.“Jean will like it. It’s the perfect outfit for a Christmas party.”“Yeah.”If it weren’t for Jean’s insistent request, he wouldn’t have worn it. Still adjusting the long sleeves, Doha followed Hazel out into the hallway. It seemed Jean had managed to set up speakers in the dining room as requested, as jazz carols filled the corridor.When they reached the open door of the dining room, Hazel stopped.“Eden, please go ahead. I’ll head to the kitchen.”“…Alright.”Doha had already offered to help earlier, only to be declined by Jean. Without protest, he entered the brightly lit dining room. The soft, yellow glow of the candles scattered around the room made the tree decorated with Jean’s ornaments seem less tacky.Doha lowered the volume of the speakers a little and carefully adjusted the position of the candles on the fireplace mantel. He also fixed one of the ornaments that had tilted, likely knocked by Ulysses. If he could have gone down to the village, he would have brought back colorful lights and tinsel to decorate the tree, making its bare appearance less disappointing.Hearing footsteps, he turned around to see the secretary standing at the threshold of the dining room with a blank expression.“Is everything almost ready?”“Jean said everything will be done once the turkey comes out of the oven. Hazel just went down to the kitchen.”“It’s quite extravagant, considering there are only a few of us.”The secretary murmured as he pulled out a chair and took his seat. He seemed to have ignored Jean’s insistence on a Christmas dress code, but at least he was wearing a more casual cardigan than usual.“Where’s the CEO?”Looking around the room, he asked. Doha, who had been adjusting the tree again, paused at the familiar line of questioning.“I don’t know. Earlier…”“Scott! Move out of the way!”At that moment, Jean appeared at the dining room door, balancing a massive tray in each hand. Right behind him, Hazel followed, carrying another tray and a basket.“Take the plates and set them down one by one. Hazel, put the salad bowl over there. If you’re going to move the candles, adjust the spacing for the rest, too.”“Jean, should I put the bread here-?”“No, that’s where the turkey goes! Scott, set out the placemats and cutlery!”Even the secretary, who was swept up in Jean’s whirlwind of instructions, quietly spread out the placemats on the table. Doha stepped forward to help, only to be silently turned away by Jean’s look, so he stepped back. After much bustling and fine-tuning, all the dishes from the trays were placed on the table. The dining room was now filled with the delicious aroma of freshly baked food.Jean, leaving space in the middle of the table, went back downstairs with Hazel. Soon after, the two returned, struggling to carry a huge roasted turkey proudly displayed on a tray.“Jean, there’s no space! The bowls are falling!”“Then take off the side plates! Remove the candles too!”It was chaotic. Doha, holding the precariously perched salad bowl, stepped back a few steps. The tangy scent of the dressing tickled his nose.Although he had attended Christmas dinners hosted by his mentor’s family with other students before, this was his first time experiencing such an elaborate Christmas feast. In addition to the turkey, there were roasted potatoes, vegetables, mushrooms, Brussels sprouts, bread, and salad. There was enough food to feed the five of them for the entire day.“Where’s the salad? Where’s the bowl… Oh, Eden.”Jean, who had just set the turkey down and was catching his breath, spotted Doha. His face lit up when he saw the red sweater.“Red suits you well. Give me the salad.”“Sure.”Jean’s face was flushed with sweat. As he squeezed the plates together to make room for the salad bowl, Hazel, who was similarly flushed, plopped down onto a chair. Both of them looked exhausted just from preparing and carrying the meal.Hazel, looking around the room, asked Doha.“Where’s the CEO?”“…Pardon?”Doha couldn’t understand why people kept asking him. He hadn’t seen the man since waking up alone in the guest room that morning.“I don’t know either…”At that moment, both the secretary and Jean turned toward the door. The sound of quick footsteps, accompanied by familiar panting, grew louder. Soon, Ulysses’ head, adorned with antlers like a reindeer, poked through the doorway.“Ulysses!”Doha called his name instinctively, and Ulysses, after glancing at everyone in the room, made a beeline for him. The antlers were now revealed to be branches tied with ribbons. The dog, seemingly excited from being outside, had snow sprinkled across his soft fur.“Did you take him for a walk?”The secretary asked as Tristan Locke, standing at the doorway, removed his coat and shook the snow from his hair.