Ebony Castle

His blue-tinged eyes finally blinked. Doha, trying to keep his trembling body steady, looked up at him.“You have a lot of demands,” Tristan said in a husky voice after briefly closing and reopening his eyes. “It has to be dark for you to feel in the mood, and you also want me to talk to you during it.”Though the content was sharp, his tone was gentle. As he looked down quietly, Tristan extended his hand and flipped Doha’s body again. Doha clumsily wrapped his arms around Tristan’s broad back, following his lead.“Relax as much as you can. We need to open you up,” Tristan said as he brought his hand between Doha’s buttocks. There was still a crazed look in his eyes, as if he could turn violent at any moment. Doha exhaled quietly, forcing himself to relax.“Ha… ugh!”Two fingers, slick with lubricant, pried the entrance open and slid in. Doha buried his chin against Tristan’s shoulder, feeling the insides of his body being forcibly stretched apart. The fingers moved inside him, twisting to widen the space, then pulled out, only to plunge back in roughly, over and over.The room was too bright. Even with the curtains closed, light seeped in from somewhere, illuminating everything in the room. Every time Tristan pushed his fingers inside him, Doha could see the thick arm muscles and the ripple of Tristan’s shoulder and back. Doha shuddered and closed his eyes.The long fingers that had been exploring inside of him stretched the opening, rubbing the sweaty, lubricated crease between his cheeks repeatedly.“Ah, huff!” Doha gasped. He didn’t know why he had thought Tristan would give him some warning. In an instant, Tristan’s large hands spread his buttocks wide, and the swollen head of his cock roughly pushed through the entrance.As soon as Tristan entered him, he exhaled a harsh breath that brushed the top of Doha’s head.“Ah, ah, it hurts—.”The world turned black, his breath hitched, and no sound came out. It felt like a club was slamming into his insides. Doha’s body tried to crawl forward up the bed, but Tristan’s grip held him down, rendering him immobile.“Locke… huff—” Doha managed to gasp, but there was no response. Each thrust was fierce, as if trying to tear him apart from the inside. The thick shaft filled the narrow passage completely, pushing even deeper each time. His movements were wild and ravenous. Doha, catching a glimpse of Tristan’s tightly closed mouth, gave up resisting. His vision wavered with dizziness and fear.“Huff, huff, ugh…”Even though he was wet inside, the friction still stung. Doha clung to Tristan’s shoulders, trying to endure the pain. Tristan glanced down at him, gripping his buttocks tightly and pulling out in one fluid motion.“Huff!” Doha gasped again as Tristan opened a container and poured the remaining lubricant between his buttocks. Doha opened his eyes briefly but quickly looked away, seeing Tristan’s massive, gleaming length between his legs. It looked terrifying, like a weapon. He wanted to escape from the bed and run.Doha forced himself to focus on Tristan’s face, and when he did, Tristan bent over and folded Doha’s body in half.“Ah—”As their lips met, Tristan’s thick shaft penetrated him once again. Doha’s body shook uncontrollably from the impact. Tristan’s hot tongue soothingly brushed the inside of Doha’s mouth, offering a stark contrast to the rough way his cock was assaulting Doha’s insides. While Tristan’s hands were mercilessly squeezing his buttocks and driving into him, their lips felt warm and sweet, like melted sugar. With nothing else to hold onto, Doha clung to the kiss and shut his eyes.***By the time the sun began to set, Tristan allowed Doha to eat. Sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a blanket, Doha ate soup, meat, and salad. His hands were trembling so much that he couldn’t properly cut the meat, so Tristan, with a smug look of satisfaction on his face, cut each piece for him and pushed the plate back toward him.“You seem to be in a better mood now,” Doha said, his voice hoarse from holding back so much.Tristan, slicing the meat with precise movements, smiled. “Was there ever a time I wasn’t?”“…After I finish eating, I’ll go down to do my rehab and practice,” Doha said, wanting to set his boundaries clearly in advance. He suspected Jean had anticipated Doha wouldn’t be able to eat at his regular time and had prepared a more substantial meal than usual. It was a little embarrassing.After finishing his meal and putting down the fork, Doha glanced at Tristan, half-expecting him to stop him. However, Tristan just watched him without saying anything. Doha reached for his clothes, still wrapped in the blanket, but stopped.“…Ugh.”A sudden wet sensation inside his body made Doha freeze. When he instinctively looked back at Tristan, he asked in a concerned tone, “Do you need help?”“…No, I’m fine.”Doha awkwardly slipped off the bed and headed to the bathroom, careful not to strain his body. As soon as he closed the door, he heard Tristan’s quiet laughter, but thankfully, he didn’t follow him.After washing up and wrapping himself in a soft towel, Doha returned to the bedroom. On the freshly made bed, the case containing his rehab equipment was already placed.“Ah.”The man sitting by the fireplace with a book turned around with a calm expression. “I thought the guest room might be too cold, so I brought it here.”“…Thank you,” Doha replied. His body, still warm from the bath, shivered slightly. The idea of going to the unlit guest room wasn’t appealing. Eventually, he climbed under the thick blanket and opened the case on his lap.His simplified rehabilitation routine now took only a couple of hours. Doha’s hands no longer felt as weak as they once did, and his fingers gripped with more strength, perhaps due to the daily practice.As he repeated the boring motions of pulling, stretching, and holding the device, he suddenly looked up to see Tristan sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at his face rather than his hands.“Does rehab hurt a lot?” Tristan asked.“…No, it doesn’t hurt much these days. Compared to before…” Doha’s mind drifted to a joke Daniel had told him. He decided to share it with Tristan.“When I first started rehab, it was really painful. Neim’s rehabilitation is famous for being tough, you know. Dr. Hunt once said some doctors even wear goggles because patients try to poke their eyes out during therapy.”He thought Tristan would laugh, but he didn’t. Instead, Tristan’s gaze lingered on Doha’s hand, which was strapped to the device, as if it were some kind of torture device.“How does it work?” Tristan asked.“Oh, this device works by pulling here. You hold this part, stretch your fingers at this angle, and maintain the position for ten seconds.”As Doha demonstrated, holding out his hand to show the movement, Tristan’s hand unexpectedly wrapped around the back of his hand, covering it gently. Doha swallowed hard at the sudden warmth of Tristan’s touch. His skin tingled where they made contact.With a polite touch, Tristan Locke took the handle of the device from Doha. Doha, now without anything to do with his right hand, let it drop onto the blanket while leaving his left hand to be handled by Tristan. As the man’s white, elegant fingers held the clunky device, it suddenly seemed like an instrument of torture from an old movie—brutal and yet captivating.“Ah… ngh.”“This much?”“…Yes.”Tristan looked directly into Doha’s eyes, ensuring his fingers were being bent just to the point of their limit. He timed the hold perfectly for ten seconds before releasing the tension. His fingers cradled Doha’s slender wrist, stroking it gently as if to comfort him. From up close, Doha could see Tristan’s long lashes casting shadows over his lowered eyes. Their bodies were almost pressed together with only the blanket between them.“Sit up for a moment.”Perhaps uncomfortable from kneeling, Tristan let go of Doha’s hand. Doha, unsure of his intentions, removed the blanket, only to find himself seated between Tristan Locke’s legs, his back pressed tightly against the man’s chest. Tristan pulled the blanket back over both of them and placed Doha’s left hand into his, continuing the rehabilitation exercise.“The next finger…”“In the same way?”“Yes.”Doha could feel Tristan’s chin resting on his shoulder. The warmth of his body was firm and comforting. As always, whenever Doha found himself in such intimate proximity with someone from Neim, his mind began to blur, growing fuzzy and languid.The rehabilitation had once been a solitary battle fought in the cold, cramped room in London. But now, Tristan’s presence turned it into something far more bearable. His large hands offered Doha’s delicate fingers stable support, and the pain he induced was not sharp or jarring but rather muted, softened, almost like velvet. The ten seconds never felt as long, and the repetitive actions seemed far less tedious.As they switched to the device for the right hand, Tristan broke the silence.“Daniel praised you quite a bit. He said you’re an exemplary patient, enduring all the pain of rehabilitation without a single complaint.”As he spoke, he bent Doha’s fingers once more, leaving Doha momentarily speechless while he adjusted to the discomfort. When ten seconds had passed, Tristan gently returned his fingers to their normal position, stopping all movement. Doha lifted his head and looked up at him, feeling the faint sound of his hair brushing against the collar of Tristan’s robe.When their eyes met, Tristan, unbothered, asked calmly, “What’s wrong? Do you want to poke my eyes out?”“…….”From up close, Tristan’s eyes were even more striking. The way the chandelier light reflected off the gem-like facets around his pupils made them seem both as deep and as unreachable as a frozen lake. It was like staring into a winter forest, an icy and mysterious expanse.“…I probably…”Before he could fully think it through, Doha found himself speaking.“…wouldn’t be able to reach, even if I wanted to.”For a man so used to hearing compliments about his appearance as casually as breathing, Tristan looked momentarily puzzled. Then, as if he finally understood, a smile formed in his almond-shaped eyes. His long lashes caught the light, each particle of it delicately clinging to their tips.“Am I your type?” he asked, his voice low, carrying the sweetness of a laugh.“…Regardless of preference, you’re objectively handsome.”“Well, that’s a relief.”He mumbled those words as if savoring them.“I’ve always found this face quite useless, but I suppose it’s finally serving a purpose now.”Knowing of Tristan Locke’s infamous romantic history, Doha instinctively wanted to argue against his self-deprecation but kept quiet instead. The back of his neck was starting to ache from tilting his head.Tristan placed his hand over Doha’s left, the one no longer holding the device. His fingers slipped between Doha’s as he gently pressed their hands down against the blanket. At the same time, Tristan’s face inched closer.Doha had already experienced this multiple times today. Anticipating a kiss, he quickly shut his eyes. Tristan chuckled quietly, brushing his lips against Doha’s in a brief, soft kiss.“Ngh…”The shiver running down Doha’s spine left him frozen momentarily. As their lips parted with a faint smack, Tristan shifted Doha around to face him. His hands gently lifted Doha’s hips, settling him onto his lap so their bodies faced each other, chest to chest.“I thought your neck might hurt.”Speaking gently, as if in consideration, Tristan cupped Doha’s cheeks and kissed him again. Doha closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Tristan’s neck. His lips parted submissively as Tristan’s tongue traced along them, coaxing them open.The towel that had been wrapped around Doha’s body slipped off. Tristan’s heated lips pressed against the exposed nape of his neck, then his round shoulders. He sucked lightly on Doha’s throat before asking in a low voice:“Aren’t you nearly done with your rehabilitation?”“……”Taking Doha’s silence as confirmation, Tristan had already begun removing the rehabilitation device and setting the case on the floor. His hand slipped under the towel, brushing over Doha’s back. Doha shuddered as Tristan’s fingers skillfully avoided the Neim scars.Kissing Doha into a dazed state, Tristan’s hand slipped between his legs, effortlessly sliding two fingers inside.“You’re still wet in here.”His words were a breathy whisper as his lips left Doha’s.“I don’t think I need to wet you anymore to fit.”“…Locke…”The swollen, sensitive skin inside stung from even just his fingers. Doha whispered his name, wanting to protest, but Tristan placed a kiss near his eyes and spoke softly:“If you’re going to keep saying my name, why not try using my first name?”“…Huh?”“In England, anyone can call me Tristan. You and I are certainly close enough.”Tristan then guided Doha’s hand inside his robe, letting it brush against the hardening length of his arousal.“Ah…”“Go on, touch it. Make it hard for me.”Their lips locked again, and as Doha’s resistance dissolved, he let his hand wrap around Tristan’s length. Slowly stroking it, Doha felt Tristan’s breath grow heavier against his neck.Tristan’s once neat fingers, which had helped with rehabilitation earlier, now gripped Doha’s hips firmly. As the atmosphere quickly turned intimate, Doha’s mind began to clear.“I… I still need to finish my rehabilitation… And today’s practice…”It was dark outside, but the chandelier’s light was bright. What time could it be? The man, who had simultaneously inserted two thumbs into Doha, softly responded in an offhand manner.“I won’t be as rough as earlier.”“…Mr. Locke, this is also… painful.”“Tristan.”“…Tristan.”The name that slipped through Doha’s lips felt unfamiliar. The delicate, tickling sound of it, like a breeze, paired with the firmness in its final note. When the name that had only existed in Doha’s mind took sound, heat rushed to his cheeks.The smile slowly faded from the man’s face, and the hardness of his erection became evident almost immediately.“Lie down.”Saying that, he gently pushed Doha onto his back. His back hit the blanket, legs bent, with his hips raised into the air.“Hng… Ugh!”Just the pressure of the head pressing against the swollen folds stung painfully. The light overhead was so bright it felt like his expression would be fully exposed. Doha tried to cover his face with one hand, but the man removed it, taking in the sight of his contorted expression at close range. He leisurely pressed his hips forward, using his weight to pin Doha down.“Ah… Haa, no….”Slowly, the hard shaft pushed inside, unforgiving yet measured, as it slid into the place it had once carved its path. Doha could feel every ridge and hardness of its shape.“Hnng….”Doha’s body twitched involuntarily. Adjusting his angle, Tristan carefully watched Doha’s face as he pressed the head against the inner walls. Doha’s vision blurred momentarily and then returned.“Haa… Aah!”“You’re hard again. Earlier you said you wouldn’t be.”With a teasing tone, Tristan wrapped his hand around Doha’s member.“No, ugh, stop….”Doha’s words slurred and became muffled. His body trembled with the sensation of imminent release, even though he wasn’t about to climax. It was like his body was teetering on the edge of a cliff.Like someone falling, Doha reached out and clung to the man’s neck. In the fleeting vision, he caught a glimpse of Tristan’s face. “Mr. Locke…,” he managed to say, only for the man to kiss his cheek and correct him.“Tristan.”“Tristan-.”But just as he uttered the name, Doha couldn’t finish his request. Tristan had already begun to move in and out, deep and fast. The mixture of pain, ticklish pleasure, and heat began to swell inside him. Tristan’s lips grazed his face and neck, his hands occasionally brushing over Neim with a gentle touch. Doha found himself, almost unconsciously, lowering his hand to wrap around his own member. As his hand slid restlessly over it, Tristan covered it with his own, stroking slowly over the slick surface.“Hnn, hnng!”It was a long, strained orgasm. Doha’s already spent body only produced a few clear drops. Tristan lifted Doha’s limp form, seating him on his lap. His lips teasingly brushed Doha’s temple.“Eden. Are you crying? It tastes salty.”“…Hnng, ugh….”Doha’s strength had all but left his body. The deeper Tristan went, the more the length inside him pushed up, filling him, even reaching further with the swollen head pressing against the tight channel. Doha’s mind blurred into whiteness.“Why do you keep covering your face?”“Hhng, hnn, ah….”“Maybe I should just turn off the light?”Doha barely managed a nod. He wasn’t sure that darkness would make anything better, but he hoped Tristan would remove himself, even briefly, to go turn off the light.“Alright,” Tristan replied. But instead of withdrawing, he lifted Doha by the hips. Doha shook his head belatedly, realizing too late what was happening.“Ah, ugh! No, this… no….”Even though they had spent the whole day tangled in bed, it seemed Tristan had an endless supply of energy. With ease, he held Doha and swung his legs off the side of the bed. Doha’s vision tilted as he was lifted, and half of the thick shaft that had been slipping out was thrust back in mercilessly between his cheeks.“Haa….”“Don’t clench so hard.”Tristan’s low voice whispered into his ear as he took another slow step. The vibration of his footfall on the floor traveled through Doha’s body.“I’ll just turn off the light and then put you down.”“You don’t… need to turn it off… Ah, hnng….”Doha tried to speak but gave up, deciding to endure instead. With Tristan’s long legs, the switch wasn’t far, but rather than going directly there, he deliberately took the long way around in the opposite direction. Watching the switch get further and further away, Doha eventually rested his forehead against Tristan’s shoulder. His vision blurred with tears of frustration.Tristan lifted Doha’s chin, forcing him to look at him, and laughed out loud.“Do you hate it that much?”Seeing Tristan’s playful expression made Doha feel like he was being mocked.“I’m not even fully inside you, and I’m holding you so gently.”His large hands cradled Doha’s damp backside, lifting and lowering it with a teasing shake. Doha buried his tear-streaked face in the man’s neck.With his eyes closed, Doha could only endure, unable to tell where Tristan was taking him. When the lights finally clicked off, it was only then he realized. The darkness of winter washed over his closed eyelids. The faint red glow from the dying fireplace dimly colored the bedroom.Tristan’s face was close enough to feel his breath. The reflected light in his eyes flickered like the flames of the fireplace.“Eden.”Tristan called quietly, pressing his lips against Doha’s. Their noses brushed as they turned, lips meeting and tongues intertwining.Doha’s back pressed against the cold wall. As Tristan plunged deeply, pinning him between his body and the wall, Doha was pulled tightly into his arms. Their sweat-drenched chests pressed against one another, and Doha could feel Tristan’s heartbeat. The boundaries of pain and pleasure, heat and cold, blurred together.Doha returned the kiss, gripping Tristan tightly with his arms and legs. The man’s member was buried deep inside him, all the way to the base.He felt his back gently sink into the soft bed once again. Strong arms wrapped around him, and the heat of their bodies kept him from feeling anxious. It was a peaceful sleep, no longer troubled by unease. In the deep blue darkness, Tristan remained by his side, grounding him.***Doha woke up. Somewhere in the mansion, a grandfather clock was chiming.The familiar sound felt strangely distant and hollow today, like it was part of a dream. In the stillness between chimes, the black void seemed to yawn open. It felt as if falling into that abyss would mean never returning from the other side of dawn.The small lamp beside the bed was glowing. Doha turned his head to look up at Tristan Locke, his face illuminated in the pale light.The man seemed to know that Doha had woken up, meeting his gaze without a word. As the echo of the final chime faded, an endless, flat silence unfolded beyond.“…The sun has set,” the man said quietly. Wrapped warmly in the thick blanket, Doha slightly lifted his head from the pillow.Tristan was right. By now, distant London would be lit up with fireworks, brilliantly painting the sky. It was a new year he was facing as if completely exposed, without any plans or resolve.While Doha’s thoughts wandered to Niklas, who would be near Waterloo Bridge amidst the crowds on London’s streets, the man beside him stared into the distance, his expression and focus vacant as if looking far away. Doha unknowingly watched him until Tristan blinked his long lashes.“Eden,” Tristan called his name in a calm voice.“Why don’t you live with me?”As he spoke, Tristan looked down at Doha with a faint curve on his delicate lips.Doha asked, “What?” But Tristan, unbothered by the question, replied patiently.“I’ll order a better piano for you. One that has a sound fitting for your hands. That piece of junk in the hall can be smashed and used as firewood.”“……”“Daniel could come here once every two weeks for your check-ups. The need for rehabilitation has decreased a lot now anyway.”Tristan’s long bangs were slightly tousled, and the light diffused faintly through the strands of his hair.Doha didn’t understand his words at first, and once he did, he was in doubt. He carefully asked, as if testing the waters, “Are you asking me not to go back to London?”“Yes,” Tristan answered softly.“Live here as my pianist. I won’t ask you to play only the pieces I prefer. You can play whenever you want, or not at all if you don’t feel like it. I’ll pay you as much as you desire, though you might not find much use for money here.”Doha remembered Tristan’s previous mention of having a personal pianist. He seemed to grasp what the man’s current offer implied. It meant that Tristan Locke would be his sole audience, rather than the countless anonymous people who filled the concert halls. It meant that this isolated, remote forest, not London, would become his home.As he opened his mouth to issue the obvious rejection, he found that strangely, the words wouldn’t come out.At that moment, Doha realized that for the past few days, even before hearing the offer, a part of him had been imagining a life here, unconsciously. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been so easy for him to envision a future he had never experienced before, so vividly.The days ahead would stretch on like these brief ones spent here due to the snowstorm. Playing the piano while Tristan sat in his armchair, watching. Reading books in his library on sunny afternoons, walking through the spring forests and by the summer lake with Tristan and Ulysses. Dining together with everyone at the estate, and sleeping in Tristan’s bed on the third floor each night. Drinking tea in the garden during nice spring days, roasting sweet potatoes by the fireplace in winter, and holding a modest Christmas party. The competition and anxiety that once consumed so much of Doha’s life would not exist in this place. A leisurely, peaceful life, free of need, was within arm’s reach.Knowing the answer, Doha still managed to ask, “Then, what about my career as a pianist?”Tristan looked at him, as if surprised by the question. His red, beautiful lips parted, and he answered, sounding slightly exasperated.“You won’t be able to continue.”“……”“Living here means abandoning everything else. You would no longer blend with or communicate with the outside world. Not as you do now, where you pick and choose what suits you, coming and going as you please.”Seeing Doha’s expression, Tristan sighed softly and added, “Eden, don’t hold onto the world. In the end, what meaning does any of it have?”“……”“The world has already forgotten classical music. All that’s left is a noble extinction—an elegant, rare struggle. Petty disputes, empty rituals, and applause from an audience soaked in pretension—do you find your music in any of that? Do you really need the bright lights of concert halls?”Though his words carried heavy implications, Tristan’s voice held neither disgust nor contempt. After blinking, he spoke in a low, tired tone.“Instead, hone your music here. In a place where no one compares, judges, or commodifies you. I can offer you an environment where you can dedicate yourself entirely, undisturbed, for the rest of your life.”The wind rustled through the tree branches. Dawn had yet to break, and the darkness of the early morning settled over the bedroom.“I’m not asking you to decide right now,” Tristan said, his voice softening with weariness. “Take your time to think about it. Just don’t take too long.”“…Alright.”“You must be tired. Let’s sleep.”At Doha’s nod, Tristan reached out and turned off the light. Cold, deep darkness enveloped the room. The space between them filled entirely with shadows.Doha closed his eyes, but sleep eluded him. From beyond the window, it seemed he could hear the faint sound of ice breaking on the lake, like an echo. The snow that had blanketed the forest and roads over the holidays was melting. It meant that if he wished, he could now return to the city at any time.At last, Doha thought about it. Throughout the days spent checking the weather forecast, what had he truly been hoping to hear?All the excuses had run out. The escape was over. Now, the only thing holding Doha in Tristan Locke’s mansion was his own choice.***Ulysses, who had rushed ahead, turned the corner and disappeared. He looked back cheerfully, as if inviting Doha to follow, but after forty minutes of trying to match the dog’s energy, Doha felt tired and could only urge himself to walk a little faster. He was beginning to get out of breath, and his legs felt sore.When Hazel first asked him to take Ulysses for a walk, he had thought he would stroll leisurely through the woods. It had been that way when the three of them had gone to the lakeside with Tristan, but somehow being alone with Ulysses changed everything. The large dog, without a leash, vanished from sight as soon as they left the mansion, and worried about losing him, Doha hurried to follow, only to get lost himself. The forest paths, covered in dead leaves, all looked the same. He couldn’t tell which was the path and which was just a gap between trees.Woof!A faint bark was heard, and Ulysses reappeared. It looked like he had been rolling around, as leaves were stuck messily near his ears.“Is this… the way back home?”Crouching down, Doha held Ulysses with one arm while using the other to brush off the leaves. He asked, “We’re not going the wrong way, right?”The dog, with his tongue hanging out, had an innocent expression. Should he call Hazel now? She might be worried since it was past the time he was supposed to return.Even Ulysses seemed to be getting tired, his tongue hanging out as he trudged slowly beside Doha. Thankfully, as they turned the corner, the path widened, eventually connecting to a road wide enough for cars. It was a familiar sight, having seen it every time he came up from the village. If they kept going this way, they’d soon reach the mansion.Now that they were almost there, Doha suddenly felt a twinge of regret, slowing his pace and taking a deep breath. The cold, clean air—so different from the city—filled his lungs, carrying faint scents of the forest and fallen leaves.The winter forest, where the snow had melted, was both desolate and beautiful. While busy chasing after Ulysses, Doha’s eyes kept returning to the trunks of ancient trees stretching straight toward the sky and the bare, countless branches. For a moment, his perspective felt broader and higher.The forest must have been beautiful when he had climbed this hill alone, limping. Back then, he couldn’t see it. His vision had been narrowed like a racehorse with blinders on.It wasn’t just because of Neim. Looking back, every moment not spent practicing since his childhood had been tainted with anxiety and guilt. Walking wasn’t efficient, so he ran on a treadmill while listening to practice recordings. When he needed inspiration, he’d visit a nearby gallery with landscape paintings rather than nature itself. Leisurely taking in his surroundings had seemed like a luxury. There were too many competitors ahead and behind, all scrambling to squeeze through an ever-narrowing gate.Did he think that once he reached a higher place, he could finally catch his breath? Even knowing that reaching that place would make him one in tens of thousands, or perhaps hundreds of thousands.Woof!Turning the corner, Doha saw the mansion’s chimney in the distance. Upon spotting the house, Ulysses barked happily. Watching the dog run proudly ahead, Doha took one last look back.The forest would be beautiful in spring, when new buds appeared and flowers bloomed. It would be just as lovely in the lush green of summer and the vibrant reds of autumn. He wanted to stay here, watching the colors change day by day. Leisurely walking through the forest, reading by the lakeside for hours, and slowly translating everything he absorbed with his eyes, ears, and skin into music—without any rush.A life where no one was chasing after him, and where he wasn’t racing toward anything. A peace he thought he could only earn after living as a pianist for decades, always out of breath.“Eden.”Before Doha could even reach the door, Hazel, holding a duster, opened it for him. She had probably been dusting the vase and Jean’s goods in the foyer.“Thank you for your hard work,” she said, swiftly wiping Ulysses’ dirty paws with a towel. Doha shook his head.“It was good exercise. If you’re short-handed tomorrow, I can help again.”“I’d be really grateful, but… didn’t you say you’d return to London tomorrow or the day after now that the road is clear?”It must have been an innocent question, but Doha hesitated and couldn’t immediately answer. As he watched Hazel clean Ulysses’ paws, their eyes met.“…Is today January 3rd?”He knew full well but asked slowly. Hazel nodded.“Given that you’re losing track of dates, it seems you’re becoming one of the mansion’s people too. Even Peter in the village must be shaking off his New Year’s hangover by now. How about contacting him?”“…Yes. I’ll do that.”Ulysses, now clean, nudged Doha’s leg with his nose before darting up the stairs. Watching the dog’s wagging tail disappear, Doha asked, “Are Locke and Lowell still in the study?”“They were the last I saw. Are you planning to practice now, Eden?”“Yes, I should.”“I’ll prepare some tea to warm you up in the hall.”After greeting Jean in the kitchen, Doha washed his hands in hot water and headed to the dining hall. The fireplaces near the piano were already running, probably thanks to Hazel. The air was warm, and the old piano surrounded by piles of sheet music now felt familiar and welcoming.As he sat down on the stool to warm up his hands, Hazel knocked and entered. On the tea tray she carried were not only a teapot and cups but also a variety of cookies and bread.“Do you know what kind of cookies these are?” she asked out of the blue as she set the tray down on a nearby table.“…These cookies?”“Yes.”Even after looking closely at the plate, he couldn’t tell. They were typical round butter cookies, square butter cookies, and butter cookies sprinkled with coarse sugar. Judging by the shapes, they didn’t seem to be Jean’s creations. As Doha stared at them, Hazel, pouring tea, laughed.“These are the cookies you gifted to the CEO for Christmas.”“Ah, those….”Come to think of it, the box had said “Butter Cookie Set.” Doha picked up a round, swirled cookie and took a bite. It tasted like a typical sweet butter cookie.“The CEO mentioned wanting to try them today, so I served them with afternoon tea.”“…I see. …Did he say anything about them?”“He didn’t say anything specific.”It made sense for him to eat them since they were a gift, but Doha hadn’t actually expected him to. He sipped his tea to wash away the lingering butter flavor. The warmth from the fireplace made his cheeks feel faintly hot.“Would it be alright if I stayed to listen to a piece?” Hazel asked as she stepped back toward the audience seating. Doha took another sip of tea and set down the cup, nodding.“Of course. Is there something you’d like to hear?”“…It was a piece you played last time, when I was here. I don’t remember the title, but it had a quiet and sad feeling. It wasn’t the very last piece, but near the end of your practice….”“Ah.”Doha played a few bars from the slow arpeggio in the introduction. As soon as Hazel heard it, she nodded.“Yes, that sounds right.”“Got it. Please, make yourself comfortable. I’ll just warm up my hands a bit.”After placing the sheet music on the stand, Doha lightly ran through a few scales before turning to see Hazel quietly seated on a wooden chair next to the armchair. When their eyes met, she blinked at him, still in her apron, and even smiled faintly—a departure from her usual upright posture.“…It’s Rachmaninoff’s Elegy in E-flat minor,” Doha announced, straightening up before playing for his sole audience member.Throughout the six-minute performance, Doha could sense Hazel’s focus. It was rare to play for a single specific listener, especially one unfamiliar with classical music, and Doha found the experience novel. The piece reached its climax, then gradually softened and returned to the introductory theme. When the final arpeggio was firmly pressed, and Doha lifted his hands from the keys, Hazel waited for a moment before quietly clapping.“It’s a beautiful piece. I think it sounded even better this time than the last.”“…Last time, I was too busy just reading the notes—it had been so long since I played it.”Even this performance had only just reached a listenable level. Normally, Doha would never play an unfinished piece in front of anyone, not even his peers like Julian. But perhaps it was the unique atmosphere of the estate’s practice environment that made him less concerned. Feeling a twinge of guilt, he added, “If you liked it, I’ll play it properly for you next time.”“If you’re doing it just for me, there’s no need. It was more than good enough as it was.”Hazel smiled and stood up. “Thank you. I’ll head back to finish up the cleaning. Let me know if you need anything, Eden.”“Sure. I’ll see you at dinner.”Doha returned to the sheet music he’d taken from Tristan’s library. He ran his hand over the worn pages and played the first few bars with his right hand. As Hazel had said, it was a melancholic, gentle piece—fitting for an old piano that was slightly out of tune. Doha remembered how he had learned the more famous pieces from the same collection back in middle school, but he’d barely touched the other pieces, only skimming the scores. He never would have imagined that a decade later, he would be playing them in such an unfamiliar place.Leaning his elbow on the music stand, he gazed at the stack of scores beside the piano. Many of them weren’t for competitions or concerts. If he were in Korea or London, he would have considered it a waste of practice time. But here, no one was judging his tastes or questioning his curiosity. There were no judges to score the difficulty of the pieces, and no audience craving flashy techniques or famous pieces.“……”Ever since Tristan brought up the idea, Doha’s thoughts kept circling back to it. No matter what else he was doing, the proposal lingered in his mind. At first, it had seemed absurd, but now, he was seriously considering it.‘A place where no one compares, evaluates, or assigns value to you.’Doha couldn’t focus on practice anymore. He finally set down the sheet music and got up from the stool, pouring himself more tea. The cold tea washed down a bite of the butter cookie, which was dry and left a powdery aftertaste. As he chewed, he wondered what expression Tristan had made when he ate the cookies instead of Jean’s usual desserts.On impulse, Doha put down the cup and turned around. He had a sudden urge to see how many cookies Tristan had left. If no one had cleared the tray, it would still be in his office. He could go collect it and, in the process, say hello to Tristan.Had Hazel or Jean been in the foyer, his strange impulse might have subsided. But there was no one around. Doha quickly climbed the stairs, thinking, What am I doing? Seeing Tristan wouldn’t change anything.It was foolish to expect Tristan to provide an answer. Tristan wasn’t going to persuade him—nor should he. This was a decision Doha had to make on his own.Knowing that, he still found himself standing in front of the office. Without pausing to take a breath, he knocked. From inside, the secretary’s voice answered.“Yes?”“…Excuse me.”Doha opened the door. The modern, sterile decor felt more like a London office than part of the estate. Tristan Locke was nowhere to be seen, though the secretary sat at her desk, looking up at him blankly.“Mr. Locke….”He belatedly asked, glancing at the empty room. The secretary sighed.“He just left for the day. I don’t know where he is right now.”“…I see.”“Was there something you needed?”“…No. I’ll just take the tray.”The urge that had driven him up the stairs faded. Doha walked over to Tristan’s desk and picked up the tea tray. The cups were empty, and two round butter cookies remained on the plate.“Oh.”The secretary turned, remembering something. “Thank you for the cookies. They were delicious.”“…You’re welcome.”Leaving the secretary to her screen, Doha left the office with the tray. The large porcelain teapot was heavy, and he balanced it carefully to avoid dropping the teacup. As he passed the stairs leading down to the first floor, the strange impulse from earlier returned, creeping up again.He changed direction and walked down the hallway. Without even checking the empty music room, he passed the guest rooms and continued toward the library at the end of the corridor. The door was closed.Balancing the tray with one hand, he knocked a few times before immediately opening the door. His heart was racing as if it were about to burst.The large library seemed empty. Near the fireplace, Ulysses lay curled up, napping on the sunlit floor. The wide armchair beside him was empty.“…Eden?”A voice called from above. Doha, still holding the tray, looked up toward the second floor of the library.A beautiful man stood at the railing, holding a book and gazing down at Doha curiously. A shaft of sunlight fell on his pale face, his loose trousers, and the thickly knit cardigan he wore. Only then did Doha feel the blood rush back to his limbs. This man always felt like a mirage or a phantom. Just realizing that he could see Tristan whenever he sought him out, that Tristan was here, tangible and real, sent a shiver down Doha’s spine.“I’ve already had tea.”Tristan smiled faintly. “And isn’t that an empty teapot?”“……”Doha remained silent, looking up at him. Tristan put one of the books he was holding back on the shelf and, holding the other, descended the stairs. His white fingers gripped the black iron railing, and his fair, elegant face came level with Doha’s as he approached.In that moment, Doha thought he finally understood the source of his complicated feelings and sleepless nights. His chest tightened painfully, and his eyes grew hot. All the goals he had chased throughout his life suddenly felt meaningless, as if they had been utterly shaken by this place.This cursed mansion deep in the forest—this place where he could always find Tristan Locke. Despite the torment and coldness he had endured here, he realized that he had come to love this desolate, isolated mansion.It was a repetitive routine of traveling long distances according to a set schedule. Packing bags that were never fully unpacked, arriving, staying, and just as he was getting settled, leaving again. When had things started to change in that restless, directionless time? London and Scotland, city and forest. The place where Tristan Locke wasn’t and the place where he was… At some point, he could no longer tell where he was leaving from or where he was returning to.