Ebony Castle

Jean took a pair of shoes from his bag and lent them to Doha, but they were far too big for his feet. With each step Doha took, the half-frozen snow swallowed the shoes up to his ankles, and sometimes his feet would slip out entirely, leaving the shoes behind in the snow. He watched Jean, who had already reached the front of the greenhouse, and slowly crossed the garden step by step.Jean, waiting at the door, grabbed Doha’s arm to help him with the final few steps.“Up you go. At least the path is walkable now, right?”“Yes, a lot of the snow melted over the past two days.”Just on Christmas Day, snow had piled up to their knees, and they would have had to shovel a path just to get here. Even the cold air in his lungs felt refreshing compared to a few days ago.Inside the greenhouse, it was as warm and humid as if it were another season. Jean shut the door, sealing off the winter outside, and gave a shiver.“Still, it’s a relief the weather’s eased up a bit. Though who knows how long that’ll last.”“About two more days.”“Two more days?”“A cold snap is forecast to hit early the morning after tomorrow.”Doha had been checking the weather forecast on his phone every few hours for days now. The temperature would drop again soon, and the snow that fell wouldn’t melt until after the new year. In this remote village, where even snowplows rarely reached, the road to Inverness would be completely blocked.As Jean rounded a tree covered in blossoms and approached the small vegetable patch inside the greenhouse, he glanced back at Doha.“Eden… you must be eager to return to London.”The way he said this obvious fact, as if he found it surprising or even a bit disappointing, left Doha momentarily speechless. In fact, as he opened his mouth to agree, he realized he wasn’t so sure it was as obvious as he thought. While Jean bent over to examine the tomato plants, Doha stood still for a moment, then slowly spoke, as if feeling his way through his thoughts.“My life is there.”“….”“My doctor, who’s helping with my rehabilitation, is there… My piano and my practice room are there… My management company too… If I want to get back to performing as soon as possible, I have to practice as much as I can, and all of that has to happen there.”Each day here felt like a vacation or a trip. Eating Jean’s experimental dishes, spending time in Tristan’s library or music room, and sitting around with others for Christmas parties—these were all days that passed without Doha spending even an hour at the piano.“Skip one day of practice, and you lose two days of progress.” That was what his teacher in Korea used to say all the time. While there were some outliers among his fellow musicians who boasted about practicing only one hour a day or taking every other day off, most of them clung to their instruments all day long, only stopping to eat or sleep, living in their practice rooms. Watching Jean’s large, rough hands as he picked tomatoes, Doha thought: if he added up all the hours he had missed because of Neim, it would be as if he had never even gone abroad to study. That’s how much time he’d wasted.Every time he thought about it, it filled him with a suffocating sense of urgency. Every moment he wasn’t holding a piano felt like a waste, even the few hours he spent each day on rehabilitation. He had already fallen far behind those he used to run alongside. Everything he had worked so hard for his whole life felt meaningless now. And even if he started running again now, there was no way those ahead of him would stop and wait for him. While Doha was following Jean, wearing his shoes and walking through the greenhouse, someone else was sweating it out in a practice room, or standing in front of an audience in a concert hall, receiving applause.On top of that, unlike other pianists who had their whole lives ahead of them to build their careers, Doha’s time was likely limited. He would only be able to sit in front of the piano for as long as Tristan Locke’s interest and sympathy lasted. If he was lucky, he might have a few years. Or maybe even hoping for that long was too much of a luxury.“….”Doha’s breath quickened. He came to a sudden stop, and Jean, who had been squatting down to pick spinach, paused and looked back. Seeing Doha’s face, he slowly stood up.“Eden, it’s still too dangerous. Even if you wait until the snow melts enough to get to the village, you’ll have to drive for two hours to get to Inverness. The roads will be rough and icy… the chances of an accident are too high.”“…Yes. Peter said the same.”To be precise, Peter had angrily shouted over the phone, “Do you expect me to risk my life just to get you to the airport?” The speakerphone had echoed loudly with his frustration. Doha had considered renting a car and driving himself, but it had been years since he last got behind the wheel. If he attempted to drive for two hours on icy roads in an unfamiliar car, he was more likely to end up in a hospital than in London.“Eden.”Jean’s expression grew serious. He even put down the basket he was holding and looked straight at Doha.“If you really want to, I can ask Mr. Locke for some time off and drive you to Inverness in the truck. But to be honest… I’d prefer it if you waited until the weather clears up. Practicing is important, but so is your safety.”“…Yes. I don’t want to ruin your holiday either, Jean.”“Well, that’s a relief.”Doha gave a small smile, and Jean, reassured, smiled back. Watching him crouch again beside the vibrant spinach, Doha took a step back. Even in the dead of winter, the greenhouse bloomed with colorful flowers. The warm air, heated by the stove, felt particularly artificial and stifling today.***Though it hadn’t been long since they’d eaten lunch, the sun was already setting. As Doha crossed the dim foyer, he heard the quick patter of four feet. Ulysses soon appeared, bounding down the stairs.“Ulysses!”Woof!Now that he saw the dog up close, Ulysses had the colorful toy bone Doha had given him clutched in his mouth. As soon as Ulysses spotted Doha, he happily rushed over, bumping his head against Doha’s thigh. Even then, he made sure not to let go of his bone.“Do you like it?”Doha asked, crouching down to stroke the dog’s soft head. Ulysses probably had plenty of better toys, but maybe he carried this one around simply because it was new.“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Are you going to hide it away somewhere after the new year, just like your master?”Doha grabbed one of the protruding ends of the bone, and Ulysses growled softly, shaking his head to avoid having it taken. His dark, shiny eyes looked almost as if he understood Doha’s playful words.At that moment, a low chuckle came from above. Doha belatedly lifted his head to find Tristan Locke leaning against the stair railing, arms crossed, watching him. Doha hadn’t noticed his presence, so he had no idea how long he’d been standing there.“Ulysses is better than me in that way. He’s got a lot of useless affection and tends to cling to things.”Tristan descended the rest of the stairs with a lazy gait. Ulysses quickly left Doha’s side and circled around his master’s feet.Doha swallowed back an apology and stood up. He hadn’t seen Tristan since he’d woken up in his bed that morning; this was the first time they’d crossed paths since the previous night. Dressed in a leather vest and a thick overcoat, Tristan looked like he was planning to take Ulysses for a walk outside.“He looks bored.”He said, leisurely gazing down at Doha.“If you don’t have anything to do, would you like to join me for a walk?”“…”Doha couldn’t quite put his finger on what about those words irritated him. For a brief moment, the man standing before him seemed like someone who had never done an honest day’s work in his life. The suffocating feeling of unease that had bubbled up in the greenhouse rose in his throat like bile.“No, thank you.”His refusal came out more forcefully than he had intended. As soon as he spat out the irritated reply, Doha was struck with the realization of his own place.The man, standing there in his fine leather shoes, gave no reaction. No movement at all. The silence was only broken by Ulysses, who stood by the front door and let out a short bark.“I was planning to stay in the library until dinner, like yesterday.”Doha added, belatedly, keeping his gaze fixed on the man’s chest.“Even without an instrument, I can at least familiarize myself with the sheet music…”None of this is your fault, Doha thought. It wasn’t your fault that I was stuck here without a piano, or that the weather was so slow to clear. But since he had grown warmer and more familiar, Doha had let himself grow lax. He had forgotten, all too easily, the sharp tension he had felt before, trembling at the thought of being discarded the very next day.“…I…”The man before him began to speak slowly.“I’m sorry that there’s nothing I can do for you.”His voice was low and calm. Without realizing it, Doha looked up, and saw in those gray eyes a faint smirk. A silent mockery that his words didn’t convey.It was a clear warning, a reminder not to forget the nature of their relationship, or the help that had been given so freely and without charge. The man’s gaze swept over Doha slowly, before his expression went blank again, as though nothing had happened.“The fire in the library should still be burning. I hope it’s time well spent.”“…Yes.”“Then, I’ll see you at dinner.”With that, his gloved hand turned the doorknob. Ulysses, who had been waiting patiently, bolted out the moment the door was open.Doha glanced briefly at the abandoned dog toy by the door and started up the stairs. His heart was racing, and it wouldn’t calm down. He repeated the words to himself—I’m fine. He might not have fully understood Tristan Locke yet, even after all this time, but he didn’t seem like the kind of man to cast someone aside impulsively, simply because his mood soured.But Doha couldn’t be sure. Did he really understand anything about this man? Even though they’d fallen asleep together in his bed night after night, Tristan never once sought to become physically intimate. He simply pulled Doha close, as if embracing a hot water bottle on a cold night, and fell asleep like that. Strictly speaking, the agreed period of his “treatment” had long since passed. Now, Doha was nothing more than a guest who couldn’t leave due to the weather. He couldn’t even complain if Tristan no longer wanted to offer his treatments.The doorknob to the library felt cold. Doha grasped it, then flexed his fingers before hesitating at the entrance, sitting on the stairs leading to the second floor. Just as Tristan had said, both fireplaces still held their flames, but the high ceilings left the air with a lingering chill.“…”The heat that had been burning in his face and mind cooled down, leaving behind only regret. After the Christmas party, Tristan Locke had felt particularly close. Doha had relied on his warmth every cold night. He couldn’t forget who Tristan really was, or the nature of their relationship. What tethered them together was nothing more than a few words etched into Doha’s skin and a signed contract.Doha stared blankly at the intricate iron railings on the staircase until he regained his composure. When he felt steady again, he turned on the lights and went upstairs, retrieving the sheet music he’d been studying yesterday. Carefully placing the old sheets on the stand, he began to move his fingers across an invisible piano, following the notes on the page.He was so absorbed in the music that he didn’t hear the soft knock at the library door, or the sound of it opening. It was only when someone knocked loudly on the stair railing that Doha was startled out of his concentration, looking up in surprise.“Eden.”It was Tristan’s secretary. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, he looked up at Doha with a frown.“Why do you leave your phone behind in such a large estate?”“I must’ve left it in the kitchen. Are you looking for Mr. Locke? He went out for a walk earlier.”“I’m aware.”As Doha rose to his feet, the secretary stopped his ascent up the stairs and, without preamble, said:“We’ve found a piano in the village.”“…Pardon?”“On the CEO’s orders, I made several inquiries, and it turns out one of the villagers has an old piano stored away in their barn. It’s likely in poor condition, though.”Doha, finally grasping what he was saying, asked, “So I’ll be able to practice in the village?”“That would still depend on the weather. The CEO has already ordered the piano to be purchased and brought to the estate, so you could use it here. It’s an old, worn-out instrument, as I said, so it will probably only serve as a temporary practice tool until you return to London.”“…”Doha took a few steps without knowing where he was going, then turned back and clumsily gathered the sheet music, returning it to the shelf.The secretary continued from behind him.“Of course, this is all dependent on being able to travel to the village. Today seems unlikely, and we’ll have to assess the road conditions tomorrow after more snow melts.”“Yes. And… who will be paying for the piano?”“The CEO has already covered the cost. He said it’s a gift in return for those Christmas cookies.”“…Thank you.”Doha muttered the thanks while still facing away.“Be sure to thank the CEO directly. I’ll see you in the dining room.”The door closed behind him. Left alone, Doha pressed his forehead against the bookshelf, breathing in the scent of old paper. Each inhale sent a sharp tingle through his chest. The peace of mind he’d painstakingly found crumbled like a tower made of dust, and confusion clouded his thoughts.***That night, Doha struggled to sleep. He dreamt of the front door piled high with snow by the time he awoke, and then of traveling to the village only to have the piano’s owner suddenly refuse to sell it. He tossed and turned through nonsensical dreams until, startled awake, he found himself still wrapped in the firm arms of the man beside him.Just before dawn, he resigned himself to the fact that sleep wouldn’t come. Lying still, he blinked in the darkness, his eyes roaming over the third-floor bedroom. The two red lights of the electric heater glowed faintly, like a pair of monster eyes watching from the corner.“Heater’s so close, yet my face and the tip of my nose are cold. It must be freezing outside,” Doha thought as he subconsciously snuggled closer, resting his cheek against Tristan Locke’s chest. The soft fabric and the warmth beneath it pressed gently against his now chilly nose.Doha’s hand, draped across Tristan’s back under the covers, clenched and unclenched a few times. Even though it had been days since they’d been intimate, it seemed that just being close like this while sleeping was enough to help him feel better.“…Ugh…”His nose itched. Doha pulled back slightly and buried his face in the sheets, stifling a quiet sneeze.It wasn’t a big movement, but when he turned his head back into place, the arm draped over his back tightened around him. Tristan’s slow, deep breaths echoed above him, signaling that he was still asleep.Doha stayed still, thinking Tristan had drifted back to sleep, but then a low, sleepy voice murmured near his ear.“You’ve been restless all night.”“……”“Is it because of the piano?”Doha inhaled quietly. His voice was slow and drowsy, thick with sleep, and it sent shivers down his spine.In the darkness, Doha raised his eyes toward Tristan’s face and answered softly, “They said we can’t go down to the village unless the snow clears. I’m just worried… what if the weather forecast is wrong?”For some reason, his voice came out in a whisper, as if he feared shattering the stillness of the early dawn.“Do you like the piano that much?”It sounded like Tristan was smiling.“You’ve played it your whole life, yet you’re not tired of it. When did you start learning the instrument?”“……”It was a question he was familiar with from childhood, but it had been so long that the answer came sluggishly. Doha dug through his memories, finally pulling out a number.“I was seven… no, six years old, by your reckoning here.”“That’s a bit late. I suppose no one in your family was a musician?”“…No.”“Lucky someone noticed your talent.”Tristan adjusted his position slightly, holding Doha closer. Now, half of Doha’s body rested on top of his. Tristan’s arm slid down his shoulder to grasp his wrist.His long, strong fingers straightened Doha’s hand, feeling each knuckle and joint in slow, deliberate strokes, as if trying to map the shape of his hand in the darkness.Finally, Tristan let go and said simply, “Your hands have healed nicely.”“…Yes.”It was an obvious statement. When Doha had first arrived at the estate, his wrists and fingers were little more than withered twigs, far removed from human hands. The bent fingers had straightened, the dark patches had lightened, and his hands had regained their strength—thanks to Tristan’s treatment and Daniel’s persistent rehabilitation efforts.“It was worth the effort,” Tristan murmured lazily. “I hadn’t realized how delicate your hands were when they were paralyzed.”“……”His sleepy voice was warm and intimate. During the day, Tristan Locke was an inscrutable man, but when they were close like this in bed, it was as if he were someone else. Doha found it easy to speak, buoyed by the stillness of the early morning.“My hands aren’t anything special compared to yours, Mr. Locke.”“…My hands?”He sounded surprised, and there was a brief silence.“Is that so? I’ve never thought about it.”This time, Doha was the one who remained quiet. Come to think of it, Tristan was flawless from head to toe, so of course, his hands being beautiful too should come as no surprise. Maybe the reason Tristan seemed more approachable in the dark was simply that his face was hidden.Suddenly, Tristan’s hand touched his face. Doha didn’t have time to flinch before Tristan’s fingers gently cupped his cheek.“When Daniel examines you, do they also record your weight?”“…No.”Doha’s voice came out muffled, as Tristan’s hand was still cradling his face.“Only when they take X-rays, but they don’t weigh me otherwise.”“You used to look like a walking corpse. Now that you’ve gained some weight, your face looks much better.”His long fingers toyed with Doha’s face, then slowly brushed the hair away from his forehead. The gesture felt kind and affectionate, like the way he would stroke Ulysses, and Doha marveled at how calming it was. Neim’s reputation was well-earned—Tristan’s touch had a way of sending tingles through his body, making him feel at ease. He thought he might fall asleep like this.But just as Doha was about to drift off, Tristan’s hand stopped. Only then did Doha realize what the hard object pressing against the inside of his thigh was.His body stiffened, his chin tilted upward. The silence grew more tense, only the sound of their breathing filling the room. Even without seeing his eyes, Doha could tell that Tristan’s gaze had darkened.Doha’s lips felt dry. His stomach and hips started to warm.He was intimately familiar with the overwhelming power of Tristan’s well-sculpted body, the feel of sweat-slicked muscles against his skin. That sharp heat was now brushing against him, making Doha squeeze his eyes shut.And then, Tristan exhaled a short sigh and gently moved Doha aside. The mattress shifted as he sat up, and the cold, pale light of morning poured in through the crack in the curtains like a splash of cold water.Tristan, now perched at the edge of the bed, looked down at Doha, his expression cool and composed.“Shall we get up?”In the faint morning light, his face looked as smooth and flawless as porcelain. Doha blinked, momentarily dazzled by the brightness as he slowly sat up. Tristan nudged a pair of fur slippers towards him and spoke as if nothing had happened.“Let’s go down and check if the weather’s good enough for a walk in the garden.”“…Okay.”The thought of the piano came rushing back. Doha hurriedly pushed the blankets aside and slid his bare feet into the slippers. The cold air in the room clawed at his skin.Tristan, watching, added, “Go downstairs, get dressed, and wash up.”“Yes.”As he saw Tristan head into the bathroom, Doha slipped out of the bedroom. Judging by the bright hallway, Jean was probably already up and downstairs in the kitchen.The guest room bathroom was so cold that Doha’s teeth chattered. He brushed his teeth while wearing two coats and splashed ice-cold water onto his heavy eyelids. He quickly changed his clothes, but as soon as he stepped into the second-floor hallway, voices from downstairs were already rising to meet him.“Ah, Eden.”Jean waved enthusiastically at Doha as he descended the stairs. The door to the garage was open, and Tristan and Jean were standing near the front entrance.“Tired?” Jean asked as he stepped aside to make room for him.“I heard you didn’t sleep well because of the weather.”“I’m fine. Do you think we can get down to the village today?”“I went out to check earlier, and I’d say there’s about an 80% chance we can,” Jean replied.Doha felt a bit more at ease. If Tristan wasn’t objecting to Jean’s assessment, then the strange dream from last night was probably just a bad omen after all.“Look, Eden,” Jean said, bending down to show what he’d brought from the garage. The large flat case was filled with tangled chains.“These are snow chains. Have you ever used them before?”“No, it’s my first time seeing them.”“They make a big difference. Without them, it’d be hard to get past the front yard in that sedan, but last winter I made it safely to the village with these chains on the truck. Though I wasn’t carrying a piano at the time.”He pulled on the fastening at the end of the chain, and the heavy metal clanked loudly.“I’ve emptied the truck bed. I’m not sure how big the piano is, but it should fit.”“Yes, I think there’ll be enough space. And…”Doha quickly reviewed the steps for transporting the piano in his mind.“We’ll need some old blankets we don’t mind throwing away and ropes or chains to secure the piano in the truck. We don’t have a wheeled dolly, so there’s nothing we can do about that… I suppose the village won’t have one either.”The more he thought about it, the more complicated it seemed. Moving an instrument was no easy task. Even among moving companies, there were specialized services for piano transport. Jean, who was absentmindedly jangling the chain in his hands, asked seriously, “Is it really that heavy? Too much for one person to carry?”“Yes. At least two people… Without any experts and no dolly, three would be safer.”“Oh, I was thinking Eden and I could just go and bring it back together. That was pretty naïve of me,” Jean muttered.Doha was about to suggest calling someone from the village, perhaps Peter or the innkeeper, when the sound of light footsteps interrupted him. The secretary, pale and still groggy, had descended the stairs and paused at the sight of the three gathered in the foyer. He gave Tristan a slight nod before pushing up his glasses and glancing at the others.“I thought I heard voices from early on. What’s going on?”“We’re strategizing the piano mission,” Jean replied gravely before adding, as if it had just occurred to him, “Scott, you’ll need to come with us to the village too. We need three people to move the piano.”“I don’t mind going, but who’s the third person?” The secretary’s eyes were sharp as they landed on Doha.“Surely Eden’s hands, which can’t even peel a sweet potato, aren’t going to be lifting a piano.”“No, it’s fine,” Doha interjected, shaking his head. Normally, he wouldn’t have even considered such a thing, but today there wasn’t much choice.“We’ll be careful, especially with Jean helping.”“Why does it feel like this isn’t Eden’s decision to make?” Jean muttered. Following his sidelong glance, Doha saw Tristan leaning against the doorframe, observing the scene. One look at Tristan’s expression made Doha immediately reconsider the idea of handling the piano himself.“With Hazel’s weak arms, there’s no way she can help, and if only Mark weren’t so antisocial…” Jean clicked his tongue in frustration.“He won’t come to the house, much less the village… I stopped by his cabin yesterday, and he was still hungover. Oh, by the way, he asked me to thank you for the gift, Eden. Looks like he’s opened it.”“Oh, I see.”“Anyway, we could get someone from the village, pay them, and have them help us load the piano into the truck… Though explaining what we’re doing might be a bit tricky.”“That’s not just tricky—it’s a serious issue,” the secretary interjected.“Eden’s frequent visits have already increased the risk of exposing this estate’s location. And now adding the fact that he’s a pianist—”Jean and the secretary’s back-and-forth abruptly ceased. Tristan had pushed himself off the doorframe.“I’ll go with you,” he said casually.The nonchalance in his voice delayed Doha’s realization of the gravity of what he’d just said. When he turned to look, the secretary had a look of shock, as though he’d been struck. Jean leaned forward, asking in disbelief, “You’re going with us? To the village?”“It sounds like that would make things easier,” Tristan replied, sounding both obvious and a little weary. Doha, looking between Jean and the secretary, couldn’t understand their overreaction.The secretary, regaining some composure, began to protest.“CEO, even if it’s a rural village, there will surely be people who recognize—”“I’ll disguise myself,” Tristan interrupted smoothly.Jean, still processing, backed up and stepped on the snow chains, making them clank loudly.“Jean, put the chains on and gather the supplies Eden mentioned. Ask Hazel for the blankets,” Tristan said.“Yes, sir.”“When everything is ready, we’ll leave immediately.”“Understood,” Jean said, heading toward the garage.As Tristan brushed past Doha to climb the stairs, his gaze briefly met Doha’s.“Thank you, Mr. Locke,” Doha murmured, knowing that mere words couldn’t convey his gratitude. For someone like Tristan, who had never had to lift anything heavy in his life, to offer his help like this—it was far from a trivial gesture.The man stared at Doha for a moment before speaking.“I’ll charge a high transport fee, so don’t worry.”By the time Doha realized what he meant, the man had already climbed halfway up the stairs, his long coat trailing behind him. A belated chuckle crept into Doha’s ears, following the indifferent tone of his words.***A truck, fitted with snow chains, was waiting in front of the mansion’s entrance with its engine running. After checking the ropes, thick blankets, cushions, belts, and tape loaded in the back one last time, Doha opened the rear door and climbed in. The heater’s warm air inside the truck was heavy and stifling.“If the piano isn’t secured properly, I’ll just sit in the back and hold it down,” Doha said to Jean, who was in the driver’s seat, adjusting the wipers.Jean laughed. “You’ll freeze to death if you do that. But seriously, what’s keeping Locke and Scott? They still haven’t come out?”“Locke is probably… changing,” Doha replied.Or maybe still eating. When Doha left the dining room earlier, Tristan had been sipping his post-meal tea as calmly as ever, as if completely unaware of the anxious tension floating through the mansion.Jean stuck his head out the window and grumbled, “The more the snow melts, the more dangerous it gets… Ah, there they are.”Doha looked out the back window. The front door opened, and the secretary appeared, turning back to speak to someone behind him. Tristan followed shortly, wearing shabby jeans but otherwise not appearing particularly “changed.”“… That’s what I’ve been saying. You’ve been far too careless this whole time,” the secretary continued. His voice slipped through the crack in the window as he climbed into the passenger seat, still talking to the person behind him.“In such a small village, everyone knows everyone, and gossip spreads fast. I’ve told you this several times already.”“What’s going on?” Jean interrupted. Tristan, now seated beside Doha, answered in his place.“Scott was suggesting that Eden should be left behind at the mansion.”“…I need to see the piano myself. If it’s in a condition where it can’t even be used for practice, there’s no point in going through all the trouble to move it,” Doha said.“You’re saying the exact same thing as the CEO,” the secretary remarked, sounding exasperated. Doha saw Tristan’s eyes crinkle slightly in amusement. He reached out and tossed a black cloth onto the middle seat.“Use it when we get there. I’ll be wearing one too.”“Okay.”When Doha unfolded it, he realized it was a cloth mask meant to cover the mouth and nose. Watching, Jean muttered, “If two of you wear that, it’ll look even more suspicious. Ah—”As soon as he hit the accelerator, the truck jolted. Jean quickly slowed down, pressing his body against the steering wheel and peering out at the snowy road ahead.“Sorry, the road’s worse than I thought. Locke, I’ll take it slow.”“That’s fine,” Tristan replied calmly. The secretary, however, was already gripping the handle above the door tightly.As the truck crawled like a snail along the snow-covered forest path, Doha anxiously gazed outside. Fortunately, thanks to the slow pace, the truck’s wheels rolled through the deep layers of snow with more stability than he had expected. The inside of the truck was quiet, likely to help Jean focus, and Tristan, sitting next to Doha, had his eyes closed as if asleep.“It feels like we’re off on some kind of distant expedition,” Jean sighed in relief as the village came into view.“Scott, did you contact the house to let them know when we’ll be arriving?”“I’m sure she’s home, but I’ll call now,” the secretary replied, pulling out his phone. Soon, the voice of an older woman could be heard through the speaker, reaching even the backseat. The secretary leaned his forehead against his arm, still gripping the door handle, as the conversation continued. It seemed like there were a lot of questions to answer.“Yes, Mrs. Murray. We’ll be there soon. …Yes, about three people. They’re my friends. …Oh, the piano… No, it’s not like that, I just want to try learning how to play the piano myself.”The truck had now reached the iron gate at the edge of Tristan’s property. Jean pressed the button inside the truck to open it, then turned to Doha with a smirk that seemed to say, Can you believe that excuse?“…Yes, of course, it’s not an easy instrument to learn alone. But I figure if I keep practicing, I’ll manage. …No, you really don’t have to… Okay, we’ll see you soon.”With a heavy sigh, the secretary hung up the phone.“Mrs. Murray said she’ll be waiting outside. CEO, Eden, you two should put your masks on now.”Doha picked up the mask he had placed on his lap and glanced to the side out of habit. He wondered if Tristan might still be asleep.The truck was just passing through the iron gate. The secretary was busy explaining the conversation to Jean, so only Doha noticed Tristan’s expression as they left the forest and entered the outside world.“……”Even though Tristan must have sensed Doha’s surprised gaze, he didn’t turn his head. His knuckles, gripping the seat so tightly that the fabric was dented, had gone white. His fingers, trembling faintly, slowly lifted the mask and placed it over his face, hooking the straps around his ears.Doha could no longer see his expression. Tristan’s eyes, visible above the mask, were tightly shut as if he were closing them against something he didn’t want to see.***“Oh my.”The moment they stepped out of the truck, Mrs. Murray, who had been waiting outside, blinked in surprise.“I thought you were a band of thieves.”“…Ah, I apologize. These two friends of mine have caught terrible colds,” the secretary explained.Doha had to admit that Tristan, with his black cap pulled low and mask covering half his face, and himself, with a hood and mask, did look rather suspicious. Ironically, Jean, who wasn’t wearing a mask, looked even more like a gang leader due to his beard, large frame, and rough appearance.“We wouldn’t want to give you our colds, especially in this weather. Shall we go inside?” the secretary continued, his round glasses and friendly smile making him appear trustworthy.As he gently led Mrs. Murray into the house, she cast sidelong glances at the other three but reluctantly allowed them in.The house was old, with signs of age everywhere. The hallway was warm, and a smell reminiscent of stew with meat wafted from somewhere in the distance.“The piano I mentioned was originally my daughter’s,” Mrs. Murray explained as she led the way, speaking to the secretary. “She went to university in London, so she doesn’t come home often. This past Christmas, we talked about eventually parting with the piano, as she’s likely to settle in London even after graduation.”“I see,” the secretary replied.