Ebony Castle

When Doha opened his eyes in the morning, the world had turned white from the snow that had fallen overnight.Doha, who had absentmindedly drawn back the curtains, stood still by the window for a while. The snow he had seen in London a few days ago was hardly memorable now. The fierce blizzard painted the sky and ground white, like rough brushstrokes, covering the dense pine needles in white. The landscape lacked no beauty, even without color.It was just before 10 a.m. Doha could still feel the lingering warmth of Tristan Locke on his skin like a memory, but he was alone in the room. The owner of the bedroom had long since gotten up and started their day.After gathering his thoughts, Doha visited the guest room to wash up before heading down to the kitchen. The door was open, and Jean was sitting at the counter, facing Hazel.“Oh!”Jean clapped exaggeratedly in admiration when he saw Doha.“Eden! I was worried I wouldn’t see you again for another three days! Did you sleep well, not too cold?”“…Yes.”Doha felt heat rising to his neck. He had been thorough when dressing, but he was still anxious about any marks that might be visible on his neck or arms.“You must be hungry for breakfast, right? Come, sit here.”Jean, moving with an agility that didn’t match his large frame, quickly set a place for Doha and opened the fridge. Feeling a little guilty, Doha spoke as he sat down.“I’m sorry, Jean. It must be troublesome to prepare meals multiple times.”“Not at all. Everyone eats breakfast separately anyway. Here, drink this for now, and while I prepare something, keep Hazel company.”Although Hazel didn’t look like she particularly needed company as she drank her tea, Doha was glad to have something to talk about. He opened the bag he’d brought down and placed a square box on the counter.“Hazel, here you go.”“Ah, is this the cake?”Hazel’s expression sharpened as she looked down at the neatly wrapped box.“Thank you, Eden. It must have been quite a hassle.”“Not at all. Your sister bought me coffee and even gave me some homemade cookies.”The petite, cheerful woman who had appeared at the café that day had the same red hair as Hazel but looked much younger than Doha had expected. She couldn’t have been more than in her early thirties, which meant there was likely a ten-year age gap between her and Hazel.As Hazel started to unwrap the box, her face briefly frowned.“Yes, my sister said she took up some of your time despite it being your first meeting… Please allow me to apologize on her behalf. She can be a bit immature. She was just excited to meet a real pianist and wanted to chat.”“No, I found it enjoyable too. …She did ask for your address several times, but I didn’t know what to say… Oh, should I get you some scissors?”“No, that’s fine now.”With a final snip, the remaining tape broke. Inside the doubly wrapped box was a rectangular cake, encased in several layers of plastic wrap. Thankfully, it seemed to have survived the journey without crumbling.“Is that the cake?”Jean paused what he was doing and came over to take a look. It was Doha’s first time seeing an authentic British Christmas cake. A red-nosed reindeer decoration sat on top of the sturdy-looking brown cake.“Wow, that’s really well made.”Jean looked closer in admiration.“Eden, this is a much more difficult cake to make than it looks. Preparing it properly can take two or three months. The good thing is, once made, it can last for several months without spoiling.”“That’s amazing.”“Make sure to ask Hazel for a slice before you head back to London.”Before Doha could refuse, Hazel was already nodding.“You can have some now, Eden, and we’ll save the rest for Christmas Day.”“That works perfectly. You need something like cake to make it feel like Christmas. Ah, it’s ready.”Jean turned off the stove and brought a plate over to Doha. Three soft, white pancakes, each leaning at a different angle, were stacked on the plate. Jean then artfully placed raspberries and blueberries on the pancakes, tucking small green herbs between them. He drizzled golden syrup and jam to create a pattern, and finally, using a sieve, he dusted the pancakes with icing sugar. The white powder floated down, silently landing on the pancakes.“Since it’s snowing today.”Jean spread his hands towards the completed dish and said, “I made these buttermilk pancakes to resemble snow falling in the forest.”Doha, sensing Hazel’s reluctant gaze, clapped to break the awkwardness. Outside the large kitchen window, the garden was indeed entirely covered in white. Even Jean’s vegetable patch and the distant fountain were buried under the snow.“By the way.”As Doha took a bite of the warm, soft pancakes, Jean casually spoke while wiping down the counter.“When do you think the snow will stop? Eden, you’re leaving the day after tomorrow, right? The 23rd?”“Yes.”“I hope the snow melts by then… Last winter, we were snowed in for several days. This place is so remote that once snow accumulates, clearing it isn’t easy.”Now that Doha looked more closely, the scarecrow in Jean’s vegetable patch was half-leaning, caught in the fierce snowstorm. The wind shaking the window frame sounded ominous.***When Jean first mentioned it, Doha didn’t believe it could be that bad. In the 21st century, with snowplows, how could snow trap them? He optimistically assumed that, even if the roads were blocked for a while, everything would be resolved in a day or two. But as the night of the 22nd approached, the snow that had briefly eased in the afternoon turned into a full-on blizzard.Jean, who had gone outside to check the situation, returned brushing snow off his coat. His nose was red from the cold, and his beard was covered in ice.“It’s not looking good.”He shivered as he removed his heavy coat. Doha, who had been waiting in the hallway, glanced out into the forest through the slightly open door. A blizzard was raging, seemingly capable of swallowing anything alive and draining all warmth.“The snow’s up to my knees. Really, up to here.”Jean glanced up at Doha as he brushed the snow off his tall boots.“The village must be in a similar situation. The road to Inverness won’t be cleared by tomorrow.”“I see.”Doha responded, feeling slightly overwhelmed. As he followed Jean through the chilly entrance hall back to the kitchen, thoughts of his flight ticket for tomorrow floated through his mind. He had never missed a flight before. He should have left in the morning and arrived by evening, but now London felt incredibly far away.“I guess I should contact Peter too.”Jean, who was boiling water, nodded at Doha’s remark.“Yeah, you should also notify someone in London. Your manager or friends, so they won’t worry.”“…Right.”Although Doha occasionally kept in touch with Niklas, there was no one who would really worry if he was a day or two late returning to London. Even if he were to go missing while trudging through the snowstorm, no one would notice for a while.“How about some chai tea?”“Sounds good.”Jean added milk and honey to the richly spiced tea and stirred it. Doha gratefully wrapped his cold hands around the heavy mug.“Eden.”Jean, who had been deep in thought, spoke up.“Do you have any specific Christmas plans in London?”“Huh? No, I don’t.”“Then… how about staying here until Christmas?”Doha blinked in surprise. He had been thinking that, if the roads were cleared tomorrow, he would stay at the inn he had previously lodged at. While a day’s delay would be fine, he had no intention of overstaying his planned stay at the mansion.“I don’t think that’ll be possible.”He carefully chose his words, staring down at the surface of the tea.“I originally agreed with Mr. Locke to stay here for only three days. The mansion residents will be spending Christmas together, and I wouldn’t want to intrude.”The tea had a pleasant bitterness, softened by the smooth aroma of the milk, perfectly suited to the snowy weather.“Eden, Christmas isn’t such a big deal.”Jean waved his hand with a slightly flustered expression.“What are we supposed to do with these boring people in the mansion? Last year, I suggested a party, but they just stared at me with blank faces. They don’t know how to enjoy life! In the end, we just had a slightly fancier dinner than usual, and that was it.”“Even so…”“From what I can see, Eden, you’re going to be snowed in here for a few more days… so why not spend Christmas with us? If Mr. Locke’s permission is the issue, we can just ask. He’s not that strict.”“…”To Doha, Mr. Locke seemed plenty strict. He was so unpredictable that it was impossible to guess his reaction. As Doha stifled a sigh, Jean added,“If that’s the case, shall I talk to Mr. Locke for you?”“No!”Doha almost choked on his hot tea.“I’ll ask him myself. And maybe the snow will melt sooner than we expect.”Looking at the storm still raging outside, that didn’t seem likely, but Jean nodded with a resigned expression. As Doha finished the rest of his tea, Jean, who was wiping down the counter, mumbled wistfully.“I feel like if Eden stayed here, I wouldn’t be so bored.”“…”“I only have memories of sweating away in a restaurant kitchen every Christmas, so I wanted to have a proper Christmas home party here. But once again, no one seems up for it.”Watching Jean’s rough hands scrubbing the counter, Doha suddenly realized that everyone working at the mansion was coping with loneliness in their own way. Hazel’s request to pick up her brother’s cake was likely rooted in a similar feeling.Perhaps Tristan Locke was no different. Doha found himself wondering if someone as aloof as Mr. Locke ever felt lonely in this mansion, or if he ever missed his family and friends in London.***The movements were smooth, almost probing. Doha bit his cracked lips, trying to suppress the tingling sensation welling up inside him. His waist twitched uncontrollably.“Hng, uh…”If not for the weight of the man pressing down on his back, Doha might have crawled away by now. Even as he gripped and pulled the sheets, he was utterly pinned between the bed and the man’s solid body.Finally, after what felt like ages, Tristan pulled out his now-wet length and pressed it between Doha’s trembling buttocks, rubbing against him. The sensation was so raw that Doha’s hips instinctively recoiled.“There’s a lot of snow piling up.”The man’s low voice brushed against the edge of Doha’s ear, his warm lips grazing Doha’s neck before his teeth nipped lightly.“Hng!”“It might be hard to leave for London tomorrow.”“Y-Yes…”A firm hand slipped between Doha’s thighs, tenderly stroking the slick area made sticky with sweat and melted cream. After swallowing several gasps, Doha finally managed to speak.“If… If you allow me to stay until the snow clears, I’ll stay in the guest room… for Christmas…”“The guest room?”Doha had meant it as a way to show that he didn’t expect to be given any special treatment for more than three days, but Tristan sounded genuinely confused.“Isn’t that the room where Eden’s luggage is stored?”If it weren’t for the faint trace of amusement in his voice, Doha would have thought it was a joke. He had to agree. Lately, he had been sleeping in Tristan’s bedroom, and couldn’t even recall the last time he had used the bed in the guest room.With Doha’s legs pressed together, the thick shaft of flesh slid slowly in and out of the gap between his thighs. The man, with all his weight resting on Doha’s body, murmured leisurely.“You said you wanted to stay here a few more days.”“Huh, yes…”“It seems three days weren’t enough for you.”The low voice teasing his earlobe was suggestive.“Were you restless every night in London too?”“…”It was far too brazen a comment for someone who had been waking Doha up every night for the past few days. Just as Doha was about to open his mouth in disbelief, the thick head of his cock pressed firmly against his folds once more. Even without effort, his body, as if accustomed to the man’s shape, parted willingly. A sweet, stinging ache sent chills down his spine.“Stay as long as you like.”After a long while, the man withdrew his cock and turned Doha onto his back, speaking as he did so. He was no longer smiling. In the dark, their eyes met slowly.“The road to the village is blocked. Even if I wanted to kick you out, you have nowhere to go, do you?”“Huh, yes…”“Since we’re stuck in the mountains together, we might as well start the treatment early.”The large hand grabbed his buttocks tightly, spreading them apart, and the furious shaft entered without restraint, pushing against Doha’s abdomen.Doha closed his eyes, pinned beneath the solid, heavy body of the man. What would they do if the snow didn’t melt soon? They weren’t trapped here alone, and it wasn’t as if he was being forcibly held. Still, somehow, he felt like his escape routes were being cut off.***As soon as Doha mentioned that he’d be staying at the estate until Christmas, Jean noticeably brightened. He turned his head toward Doha, although he couldn’t seem to stop stirring the pot with the ladle, and shouted happily.“That’s great! This year, we can finally have a proper Christmas celebration!”“…”Doha, who had always lived far from parties, felt the weight of Jean’s hopeful gaze. It seemed he’d have to cooperate in place of the rest of the household, maybe even wear a party hat. While Doha could be considered someone who would rather skip a party and head to the practice room, he owed Jean too much to be uncooperative.“And… I have this for you.”Doha pulled out a large paper bag from his suitcase. Originally, he had planned to give it to Jean or Hazel before leaving for the village today. Jean tilted his head.“What’s that?”“A Christmas gift.”“Ooh!”Jean immediately put down the ladle and approached the counter. Doha began to pull out the other gift boxes, all wrapped in the same Christmas paper, and placed them on the counter. There were six in total: one each for Jean, Hazel, Lowell, Tristan, and Ulysses, as well as one for the gardener, whom he’d never met.“Eden!”Jean looked deeply moved. Doha pushed a neatly ribboned square box toward him.“It’s nothing special, really. I just put effort into the wrapping.”Jean, who had wiped his hands on a towel and carefully accepted the box, examined it from all sides before grinning broadly and setting it back down.“I’ll open it on Christmas Day!”“…You could open it now if you like…”“But a present belongs under the tree! Eden, thank you. This is my first Christmas present in two years.”Jean returned to the stove to stir the pot again but turned his head to add, “If there’s anything you’d like to eat, just say the word. I’d love to return the favor, but I can’t really give another gift with what’s available here.”“Alright, I’ll think about it.”“Sounds good.”It seemed the rest of the gifts would also have to wait until Christmas to find their recipients. Since Doha had initially planned to be gone by the time the gifts were opened, he felt slightly uneasy. He had only bought the other gifts out of obligation while shopping for Jean’s, and he wasn’t confident about the contents of the boxes, which were chosen to fit his budget.But there was nothing he could do about it now. After returning the wrapped boxes to the bag and pushing them aside, Jean, having finished preparing the dish, turned around with a thoughtful expression.“Eden.”“Yes?”“Since we still have time until Christmas, how about making a Christmas tree?”“…A tree?”Doha immediately recalled the small, plastic, assemble-it-yourself tree that had been at his childhood home. Every year, when they took it out of the box, the thin plastic needles would fall off in handfuls, leaving the tree looking scruffy and sad by the time they threw it away.“Do you think the village sells trees?”He vaguely remembered passing a few ‘tree sale’ tents on bus rides during the holidays in recent years. He knew that most people in England bought real trees.“The village?”Jean looked at him quizzically.“Why would we go to the village? There’s a whole forest of trees out there!”He pointed out the window. Beyond the garden, an endless expanse of dense forest stretched out before them.Doha opened his mouth but closed it again. Jean casually added, “Of course, we’d need permission. But with so many trees out there, cutting one down shouldn’t be a problem, right?”“Still… from the forest?”“Why not! It’s Locke’s forest, after all.”As Doha remembered Tristan Locke’s vast estate, he fell silent, and Jean, covering the pot with a lid and hanging up his apron, said, “Since it’s come up, let’s go ask now.”Jean led the way to the office on the second floor. Doha hung back, stomach tightening with the usual nervousness that always came before meeting Tristan. But when the door opened, only the secretary was there, working alone.“You want to cut down a tree to make a Christmas tree?”Behind his round glasses, the secretary’s eyes clearly conveyed that he couldn’t understand why anyone would do such a thing.“Seems like you’ll have to ask the CEO.”“That’s what I came here to do.”“Then go ahead and ask for permission. He’s likely in the library or the music room.”As the office door closed, Doha fully understood how Jean had felt last Christmas. Just one look from those eyes could sap all your energy and any desire to celebrate Christmas.“Why act so proud when it’s not even his tree?”Jean grumbled as they made their way to find Tristan in the music room.“Locke’s employees are always… Eden, why don’t you knock?”“…Alright.”Since Jean had knocked on the office door, it was Doha’s turn this time. He was nudged forward without time to hesitate, and with a quickened heartbeat, he rapped on the door with his knuckles. His heart was racing.“…Maybe he’s in the library?”Jean mumbled as silence stretched on. Just as Doha began to feel relieved and was about to step back, the doorknob turned. A faint scratching sound followed, then the door creaked open, and vibrant music spilled out, along with Ulysses.The dog’s expression was blissful. Completely ignoring Jean, Ulysses bounded over to Doha, wagging his fluffy tail enthusiastically.“That damn dog.”Jean muttered quietly as he pushed the door open wider. The orchestral music that had been filling the room abruptly stopped.Tristan Locke was inside. Though he was merely lounging in a large armchair in casual clothes, Doha instinctively straightened his posture, as if he were in the presence of royalty. Ulysses circled back to his owner’s side and lay down at his feet.“What’s the matter?”The man asked. His half-lidded eyes, as if still sleepy, weren’t focused on Jean, but on Doha. Feeling the sensation of their early morning encounter stir vividly across his skin, Doha found himself momentarily flustered.“We want to set up a Christmas tree.”Oblivious to the charged moment between Doha and Tristan, Jean declared boldly.“Would it be alright to cut down one of the trees from the forest? It would look great in the foyer or dining room.”“A Christmas tree, you say.”Tristan repeated.“You can use a tree if you like, but doesn’t it seem difficult without proper tools?”“…Ah, true.”Jean seemed flustered by the realization.“But… I’m sure we can find something close enough. If I ask Hazel, she might have some ideas. Besides, Eden brought gifts, so we can place those under the tree. There’s even one for you, Mr. Locke.”“…For me?”Tristan’s eyes narrowed. Doha, slightly awkward, answered.“It’s nothing too special.”“Then I should give you something in return. Maybe we can cut down one tree for each of us?”Jean perked up instantly.“Absolutely, that would be perfect.”“We don’t need two trees.”Doha interjected. Without the proper tools, it felt like an unnecessary extravagance. As he spoke, Tristan, who had been glancing out the window, turned his eyes back to Doha’s face.“Just plant one of them. We might have a use for it next year.”Though his expression remained neutral, there was something in Tristan’s gaze that gave Doha the sense he was being toyed with. He looked away, only to find Jean practically beaming with excitement at the idea.“Let’s go cut one down right now.”Jean placed a hand on Doha’s shoulder, urging him forward.“Let’s find a tree of the right size nearby and bring it back. It’s cold, so dress warmly. I’ll go grab the saw from the garage….”“Jean.”It was Tristan’s voice. As Jean turned, the man, still resting a hand on Ulysses’ head, smiled warmly.“Why not take Lowell with you? He’s been cooped up working all day and might want some fresh air.”“Ah… yes.”Jean, quick to pick up on hints, nodded his understanding after just a few moments.“I nearly put our guest to work—my mistake. I’ll take Scott and we’ll get it done.”“Good. And once you’re back, Eden can help with the decorating.”“Right! We’ll be off, then. See you later, Mr. Locke. Eden, see you in a bit.”Doha barely had time to wonder what had just transpired before Jean had already disappeared. The sound of his quick footsteps echoed down the hall toward the office, and Ulysses gave a low growl.“Mr. Lowell seems to prefer staying indoors,” Doha said. He could already picture the secretary’s displeased face once Jean told him the plan. The two would probably bicker over who got to use the saw once they were out in the woods.Tristan didn’t respond, but instead stood up from his chair. Ulysses, ever obedient, circled Doha’s legs.“Take a seat.”Tristan gestured lightly toward the empty armchair.“I’ll fetch another chair.”“If you’ll be sitting, then I should be the one to—”“It’s fine.”His tone was gentle but left no room for argument. Doha kept silent and did as he was told, sitting in the large armchair. It felt oversized for his body, stiff and not particularly comfortable, likely an antique.Tristan picked up the remote and resumed the music that had been playing earlier.“I’ll be back shortly. Keep the dog company.”As if he understood, Ulysses rested his snout on Doha’s thigh, nudging for attention. As Doha stroked him, the dog laid his head on his lap, heavy and warm. The texture of Ulysses’ stiff yet soft golden fur tangled between his fingers.While Tristan was gone, Doha continued petting Ulysses and marveled at the sound quality in the music room. It didn’t quite compare to a concert hall, but the rich, nuanced sound from the high-end speakers was impressive.By the time the second movement began, Tristan had returned, carrying a black leather and wood chair. He placed it next to the armchair with a casual thud. The chair, probably from the office, didn’t match the rest of the antique furniture in the music room. Doha quickly stood as if he had been waiting for this moment.“It would be better if I sat there.”Doha spoke, but Tristan merely glanced at him, as if questioning why he was stating the obvious. Doha watched as Tristan comfortably settled back into the armchair and then retreated to perch on the small chair Tristan had brought over.Both chairs faced the speakers. The difference in height and the slight angle meant that Tristan, who was now deeply settled into the armchair, wasn’t fully visible to Doha. Likewise, Doha would be mostly out of Tristan’s sight.Now that they were seated, Tristan didn’t seem inclined to continue any conversation. Doha’s once-stiff posture gradually relaxed. The warmth of the room, heated by the fireplace, was enough to make his eyelids feel heavy. Listening to music through speakers instead of headphones after such a long time was satisfying.By the time the second movement of the piece ended, Doha suddenly questioned why he was even there. One side of the curtains was drawn, but the other revealed a view of a fierce snowstorm outside. Jean was probably still out with the secretary, cutting down the tree. Tristan Locke hadn’t moved, possibly having fallen asleep. His pale, elegant fingers rested loosely on the armrest.As the music faded and the record player gradually slowed to a stop, Doha began calculating the distance to the door for a possible escape. Just then, Tristan’s low voice unexpectedly broke the silence from the armchair.“Have you ever played this piece?”“…I’ve only read the sheet music.”“It’s not a common concert repertoire. Orchestras don’t usually like it.”“Yes. It’s difficult.”The concerto was notoriously complex, and as Tristan had pointed out, orchestras tended to avoid it because it wasn’t worth the extensive rehearsal time. Doha had never even heard it performed live at a concert.“Did you…?”Doha began, but his question was interrupted by the heavy breathing of the dog. Ulysses was curled up at Tristan’s feet, fast asleep.Tristan looked down at the dog and chuckled softly.“I can’t get up. Why don’t you pick the next piece?”“…Okay.”Doha abandoned any thoughts of leaving and stood up, walking over to the shelves lined with records. The scene felt oddly reminiscent of his first time visiting Tristan’s two-story library. Every record he touched was a rare collector’s item. If Tristan had been any other collector, these would have been carefully sealed in plastic, never to be touched.After selecting a few, he carefully pulled one from its sleeve and placed it under the needle. The deep, resonant sound of a cello began to fill the room, like it had appeared out of thin air.As he made his way back to his seat, he realized Tristan had been watching him the whole time. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Doha instinctively looked away. He hadn’t noticed Tristan’s gaze on his back the entire time he was browsing the records.“It’s strange,” Tristan murmured. Doha paused just before sitting down.Ulysses’s drooping ears were near his feet as Tristan’s calm voice continued from behind him.“I used to love this piece… but with Eden sitting there, I can’t seem to focus on the music.”“……”There was a certain low tone to his voice. Doha froze, unable to turn around. The cello’s rising notes whispered softly as they faded into the air.The music swelled, hovering in a delicate tremor, as if on the verge of collapsing. Amid the tense silence, the dog’s rhythmic breathing blended into the background.Tristan Locke let out a quiet, breathy laugh.“Relax. Ulysses is sleeping too well to be disturbed right now.”“……”“How’s your practice coming along?”It felt like the wind had suddenly shifted direction. Startled by the unexpected question, Doha sat at the edge of the chair and answered.“I’m still lacking, but I’m working hard.”“Very diligent, as always,” Tristan chuckled softly.“But is there really any need for that? I’m no longer your patron.”“…That’s true.”“That reminds me… I recently came across the audition video you sent from Korea to the foundation. It’s still in the database, under your Korean name.”“……”Doha tried to recall what he had recorded and sent seven years ago for that audition. The Locke Foundation’s Young Talent Program had high barriers, especially for students from outside Europe. He had desperately needed the financial support to study in London, but knowing the slim chances, he had likely just sent a straightforward video of his current repertoire, as per the guidelines.“What did you think after watching it again?”The silence stretched long enough that Doha decided to ask. Oddly, he couldn’t just sit back and listen comfortably, even though it was feedback from someone who was no longer his patron.“You looked so young,” Tristan replied with a smile in his voice. “Almost guilty, seeing it now. Do all Korean high school uniforms look like that?”“…What did you think of my playing?”Hoping to steer the conversation back to the important part, Doha asked. Tristan fell silent for a moment, as if listening intently to the intricate cello notes from the speakers.“I liked your Bach.”He turned slightly, giving Doha a side glance. His delicate, downcast eyes and tightly pressed lips came into view.“That was unexpected. You didn’t include any of Bach’s pieces in your university repertoire, did you?”“…No. My professors encouraged me to narrow my focus and specialize.”“They must have figured you were good enough at everything else to do that. You have power, excellent technique. It’d be a waste not to have you play more showy pieces.”Doha felt completely taken aback. It must have shown on his face, because Tristan’s eyes curved into a faint smile as he gazed at him.“Why that face? I seem to remember being the one who selected you and gave you money to study, after all.”The casual tone struck Doha like a thorn in his chest. He lowered his eyes, feeling suddenly embarrassed. Then, it dawned on him—there was no reason to be happy. Tristan’s praise and smiles were directed at his past self, someone he no longer was.After taking a slow breath, Doha responded.“I had hoped to record a Bach album eventually. Maybe when I’m older… if I ever get the chance.”“That’s a good idea.”The music faded into a soft close as Ulysses stirred and shifted, laying his head against Doha’s slippered foot. The second movement began as Tristan turned his attention back to the music, and their quiet conversation was once again overtaken by the sounds of the cello.Doha found himself watching the man’s pale hand, blinking slowly. Outside, Jean and Lowell were likely dragging the pine tree through the snow. When they returned, Doha would go help Jean decorate the tree. There was no piano to practice on here, no doctor to guide his rehabilitation. There was only the endlessly falling snow, Jean’s cooking, and a Christmas that hadn’t mattered to him since childhood.A sweet sense of guilt, as though he had left all responsibility behind, weighed heavily in his stomach. Doha closed his eyes and surrendered himself to this unfamiliar feeling.