Ebony Castle

The secretary responded politely with a light joke. As Doha passed through the open door, he noticed a Christmas tree in the living room that had started to wither. Colorful tinsel was wrapped around doorknobs and shelves.“I didn’t want to let go of the piano even if no one played it… but when I called my daughter, she said it would be better to sell it if someone needed it. Here it is.”Mrs. Murray stopped and opened a door. Inside the dark room, a pile of clutter reached from floor to ceiling.“It’s in the corner over there. You’ll have to go all the way in.”As she felt along the wall, a dim yellow light flickered on, and the dust was visible in the air. The secretary glanced at the three behind him before leading the way down the narrow path between the clutter.Doha cautiously looked up at Tristan Locke. He hadn’t spoken a word since they arrived.“There it is. I should’ve cleared it out beforehand… Just a moment.”In a corner, surrounded by an old dresser without drawers and stacks of boxes, there was a shape covered by a cloth, like a bedsheet. Mrs. Murray pushed the boxes aside and pulled off the cloth along with years of accumulated dust. Doha heard Jean cough from behind.When Mrs. Murray lifted the lid, the keys and logo of a small spinet piano were revealed, a brand Doha had never heard of before.“Try playing it. The stool is right here!”The keys were yellowed with age, and some were chipped. Doha felt his shoulders silently sag in disappointment.At Mrs. Murray’s eager suggestion to play something, the secretary hesitantly sat down on the piano stool. Dust rose from the cushion, filling the air.“I don’t know how to play yet…”The secretary awkwardly raised his hands over the keys. After crafting a story about not letting rumors spread of an Asian pianist in the village, he now turned to Doha with pleading eyes for help.“You need to play something,” Doha whispered, moving next to him. There was no way they could find a tuner or repairman in this village. If the tuning was badly off or the strings were broken, it would be best to abandon the piano entirely.“I just press the keys, right?”He asked. Doha, avoiding Mrs. Murray’s curious gaze, nodded.“Start from the bottom and press each key one by one.”“Alright.”Resigned, the secretary stretched out his index finger and pressed down hard on the lowest key. The deep sound echoed through the room, causing Mrs. Murray to flinch. Jean, standing behind, tilted his head in curiosity, while Tristan, leaning against the wall, remained silent.“The next one?”The secretary asked, and after lifting his finger, struck the next key with a similar force, almost as if he were trying to break the piano.“Can you really learn to play on your own?” Mrs. Murray asked, showing surprising sharpness as her patience wore thin. She wasn’t the only one losing patience—Tristan finally moved from the wall, lightly placing his hand on the secretary’s shoulder.“Let me.”The secretary, about to say “CEO,” stopped himself mid-sentence. Doha watched Tristan sit on the stool, thinking that disguises were utterly useless. Even with a hat covering his hair and a mask over his face, Tristan Locke’s elegant posture and long, pale fingers were unmistakable.Tristan rested both hands lightly on the keys and began to play a chromatic scale from the lowest note. His white fingers glided smoothly over the keys without hesitation, producing a clear and resonant sound that made Doha freeze in place.In hindsight, it wasn’t strange. A child born into the Locke family was likely trained in at least one or two instruments. He may have stopped playing at some point, but Tristan probably encountered a piano at a much younger age than Doha had.“The tuning is a mess.”Tristan muttered softly, his hands still resting on the keys. A light and playful tune started flowing from the creaking piano: Erik Satie’s Le Piccadilly. Doha nearly laughed at the surprising choice of music that didn’t seem to match Tristan at all.“My friend knows how to play the piano, so he’ll teach me,” the secretary quickly explained, as if suddenly regaining his composure. But Mrs. Murray wasn’t listening. She was mesmerized, staring at Tristan’s masked face in awe.“My goodness, he looks just like a pianist!”At that, Tristan glanced up at Doha. Over the black mask, Doha saw Tristan’s eyes curve into a soft smile.Without thinking, Doha smiled back. Since they both wore masks, Tristan could probably only see his eyes as well.A man in worn-out jeans, sitting on a piano stool. Beneath the cap, the beautiful, gem-like gray eyes were gazing straight at him. For a moment, time seemed to slow. Even the dust floating in the air shimmered softly as it caught the light.“So, are you buying the piano?” Mrs. Murray asked, placing a hand on the piano as if claiming ownership. Doha snapped back to reality and gave a slight nod so that Tristan and the secretary could see. Even though the piano wasn’t in great condition, having it was better than not having anything at all.“Yes, we’ll take it. Just give us a moment outside…”The secretary led Mrs. Murray out of the room. With some space cleared near the piano, Jean finally approached. He bent down to inspect it and tapped the music stand.“It’s smaller than I thought. The real issue is getting it out of this place.”“We’ll have to clear a path first.”“Yeah, we’ll need to stack or move those boxes to the side…”Jean grabbed one end of the piano and lifted it slightly off the ground as a test.“Phew. If we’re lucky, two people might be able to carry it. Scott!”Jean called out, but there was no response from the secretary, who had disappeared somewhere. Dusting off his hands, Jean walked around the stool.“I’ll go bring the truck around to the entrance and grab some straps. Eden, ask if we can move those boxes outside when the owner returns.”“Got it.”Jean nearly tripped over a broom handle sticking out from the floor and muttered a string of what Doha assumed were curses in French. Limping slightly, Jean disappeared through the open door, leaving the room in silence.“……”Doha felt a gaze on his cheek. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to look down at the man sitting on the piano stool.The unfamiliar environment, rather than the mansion he was accustomed to, made everything seem more vivid, as if all his senses had been heightened several times over. The low-ceilinged room, the musty scent of dust and mothballs. His warmth was just within arm’s reach.Doha took a slow breath, trying to calm his racing pulse, and absentmindedly fiddled with the metal latch of the piano lid as he spoke.“I didn’t know you played the piano.”He traced the raised handle with his fingertips, following the curled design, feeling the boundary between the metal and the wood.“I played a little when I was young.”He responded, then quietly added,“It’s embarrassing in front of a professional.”“…No, not at all.”“This piano… it hasn’t been tuned in years, I’m sure.”He placed his left hand on the lower keys and played an octave. The discordant sound was sharp, almost like a burst. Clicking his tongue, he turned to Doha and asked,“Will an instrument like this really be helpful for practice?”“…Yes. It’s better than nothing.”“Mr. Eden, you’re less demanding than I thought.”The man’s pale fingers lightly touched the yellowed keys, playing with precise and delicate movements, without the slightest hesitation or tremble.As he looked down at the dust on his fingertips, he suddenly seemed to recall something.“Lowell is probably outside right now, negotiating the price.”“……”“Waste is no virtue. It’s fair and clean to pay the proper value for something. Aside from that absurd contract with you, I never engage in deals where I lose out.”His ash-gray eyes took on a subtle gleam as he looked at Doha. Doha couldn’t tell if he was angry or joking.***“Stop!”The secretary tapped the back of the truck. The truck came to a halt, stopping precariously close to the mansion steps.While the secretary lowered the truck ramp, Jean and Tristan, who had climbed into the truck, began untying the ropes they had used to secure the piano, pulling off the thick blankets and cushions. The Murray lady’s piano emerged under the sunlight. Though it looked just as old and shabby as it had in the storage room, it seemed unharmed from the transport.“So that’s the piano, huh.”Hazel, standing beside Doha, remarked.“It’s smaller than I expected. Was there any trouble moving it?”“No, apart from the fact that it was heavy and everyone had a hard time…”“One, two, three!” Jean, the secretary, and Tristan lifted the piano simultaneously. They faltered a bit because of the steps, and Doha saw Jean’s face turning red. The veins on Tristan’s arms bulged as he carried the rear.Once the piano, which had swayed for a moment, finally passed through the mansion entrance, Doha followed with the piano stool in his hands. From upstairs, the faint barking of Ulysses could be heard, likely locked away by Hazel in advance.“Do you already have a spot picked out for the piano?”As the piano crossed the entrance hall and headed toward the left hallway, Doha asked. Hazel responded, “Of course.”“The CEO said to place it in the first-floor dining hall.”“The dining hall…?”He had been in there once before when Jean was considering venues for a Christmas party. It must have once been the grandest room in the mansion, but now it was so dilapidated and barren that even Jean had shaken his head in dismay. It was clear why they had moved the dining room to another floor.“It gets a little cold in the dining hall around this time, but after cleaning it up, we brought in several spare heaters, so it should be comfortable enough for your practice.”Every door along the way had already been opened, likely by Hazel beforehand. The ceiling rose dramatically higher as they entered the dining hall at the end of the corridor. The three men who had gone ahead were setting the piano down in one corner of the room.“A bit more to the left.”Tristan stepped back and surveyed the room before giving instructions. With a grunt, Jean and the secretary lifted the piano again and shifted it slightly to the left.“The hall looks… surprisingly clean.”Doha glanced around the room. Though the faded velvet curtains and rusted chandelier remained, the dust had been swept away, the floor was spotless, and the massive table that used to dominate the center had been pushed to one side. The positioning of the piano gave the room the unexpected feel of a small concert hall.“Hand me the stool.”Jean approached, hoisting the stool easily and placing it beside the piano.Everyone stepped back to admire the instrument they had hauled all the way from town. Jean wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm, panting heavily, while Doha noticed that the secretary’s bangs were damp and sticking to his forehead.“……”When the topic of the piano had first come up, Doha hadn’t imagined it would trouble so many people. As he struggled to find the words to express his gratitude, Jean clapped his hands together with a grin.“Well then, Eden! Now that we’ve gone through all this trouble to get you a piano, how about playing us a piece to commemorate the occasion?”“That’s right. After all this effort, you should give us a little performance.”The secretary chimed in. While Jean’s expression reflected curiosity, eager to see something impressive, the secretary’s gaze was more challenging. It was clear in his blue eyes that he questioned whether Doha, a retired pianist, was worth all this trouble.Startled, Doha instinctively looked toward Tristan, perhaps hoping he would intervene. But Tristan simply met Doha’s gaze without expression, then casually walked over to fetch two chairs from near the wall.“Hazel, have a seat.”Hazel flinched in surprise when he spoke.“Me, too?”“This is music you don’t get to hear in a concert hall.”It was unclear whether he meant that the household staff couldn’t afford concert tickets or that Doha’s music wasn’t concert-hall material. Nonetheless, Hazel hesitated only briefly before sitting down. The secretary and Jean followed suit, grabbing chairs for themselves. In an instant, four chairs were lined up in the front row, just a few meters from the piano.At this point, Doha had no choice. He would have to play something. Resigned, he awkwardly took a seat on the old stool and opened the piano’s lid.“……”When he turned his head, he saw all four sets of eyes fixed on him. It felt more like an audition than a performance.“Mr. Eden.”Hazel, sitting to Jean’s left, spoke.“If you need sheet music, I can bring some from the library.”“…No, it’s fine. I don’t need sheet music.”Doha had never been nervous on stage, and this wasn’t even a stage. Yet his fingertips tingled as they hovered above the yellowed keys. His hands felt cold and unresponsive as they touched the keys.Rubbing his fingers over a missing key, he hesitated about what to play. He clenched and unclenched his hands, adjusted the position of the stool, and pressed the pedal once. Like at the end of a concert encore, he turned his head to the audience and announced the piece.“It’s Jeux d’eau by Ravel.”After stomping on the rusted pedal a few times, his fingers lightly rested on the keys.It was a piece that required delicate fingerwork. But playing it on Mrs. Murray’s old piano, with his hands refusing to cooperate, felt like riding a disobedient pony in a race. The slightly out-of-tune notes jumbled inside the piano, bouncing off the high ceiling of the hall.Frowning, Doha leaned closer to the piano. Throughout college, he’d heard the phrase “a good concert pianist never blames the instrument” countless times, but he wasn’t sure even his professor would have applied that to an instrument like this.He played without overemphasizing the dynamics and softly concluded the last few measures. When he lifted his hands from the piano and opened his eyes, a hesitant round of applause followed from the audience.Jean, of course, was the one clapping the loudest. His cheeks flushed, and he let out a series of excited exclamations, “Oh! Oh! Eden! Wow, that was amazing!”“…Thank you.”Doha brushed aside the hair stuck to his forehead and glanced at Tristan. Though Jean, the secretary, and Hazel were all still showering him with praise, Doha felt like it was just the two of them locked in a gaze.When their eyes met, Tristan quietly asked, “May I request a piece?”Doha blinked at his more formal tone and replied, “Yes, if it’s a piece I know.”“I’d like to hear Chopin’s Nocturne.”“…Which one?”“Hmm… No. 15. Or No. 12 would be good too.”Doha looked down at the keys, thinking for a moment. He was more familiar with No. 15, but the issue was with the piano. The string for the F key that his left hand frequently touched in No. 15 had snapped, leaving the key sunken.After some thought, he placed his hands on the keys. The dining hall, warmed by the heaters Hazel had set up in advance, was cozy, and his fingers had loosened up. Doha leaned closer to the piano. His hands began to throb, and he was too focused on the piece to think about anything else.After the final note resonated, Jean clapped enthusiastically with a wide grin. “That was amazing! Even without lyrics, it wasn’t boring at all!”Doha instinctively looked at Tristan. Tristan’s eyes were narrowed, his brow slightly furrowed as if deep in thought. He then asked, “Isn’t the original mood of No. 15 different?”“Ah—” Jean, mid-exclamation, clamped his mouth shut. Even Hazel turned to look at Tristan. Doha blinked a few times before understanding what he meant.“Sorry. I played it in G minor… a key higher than it should be. It’s originally in F minor, but that string is broken.”From where Tristan sat, the keys might not have been visible, so Doha pointed to the lower F key with his left hand.“I can play it in the original key, but the missing notes might be distracting.”If Tristan had an ear sharp enough to notice the altered atmosphere from changing the key, he surely wouldn’t enjoy a performance where notes from the left hand were missing or substituted.Listening to Doha, Tristan nodded once without much disappointment.“That makes sense. It’s fine, then.”“…I’ll play it properly for you next time, with a better piano.”Even as he said it, Doha doubted such a day would come. It would only be possible if a better piano were brought into the mansion since he wasn’t likely to see Tristan anywhere else. Could that day ever come? Realistically, Doha couldn’t keep practicing on this piano, but he wasn’t sure he’d even be visiting the mansion a few years from now.***The weather forecast was spot on. The temperature that had started to drop with the evening twilight plummeted overnight. By morning, the forest outside was covered in a fresh, pristine layer of white snow.That meant Doha wouldn’t be returning to London until after the New Year, but now that he had a piano, he no longer felt anxious. At night, he slept in Tristan’s bed, and during the day, he practiced surrounded by the heaters Hazel had provided on the first floor.The day after they had brought in the piano, after having lunch with Jean, Doha returned to the hall and noticed that one of the four chairs, which had been set up like a mini audience, was missing. In its place, directly facing the piano, was the large armchair from Tristan’s music room upstairs.“…….”Doha stood staring at the empty chair for a long time. His throat felt tight, and an odd feeling crept over him.That afternoon, after finishing his work, Tristan entered the hall naturally and sat in the armchair. He didn’t request a specific piece, didn’t say a word, and simply sat there, silently observing as Doha practiced. When their eyes met after Doha finished a piece, instead of clapping, Tristan would lightly tap the armrest with his fingers. His pale, refined face remained fixed on Doha at the piano.Tristan wasn’t the only one visiting Doha’s practice space. Jean would peek in while waiting for something in the oven, and Hazel dropped by at least once a day.On the third day since Doha had gotten the piano, Jean suddenly spoke while preparing lunch.“Eden, I owe you an apology.”“…An apology?”Wiping his wet hands, Jean leaned his elbows on the counter. His bearded face was unusually serious, causing Doha to set down his spoon.“Of course, I knew early on that you were a pianist.”Jean paused for a long time, resting his chin in his hand.“But I always thought of classical music as just background noise for restaurants… It’s not as universally famous as pop music, the pieces are long and boring, and I had the impression that it was something for pretentious people to lock themselves away with.”“That’s understandable.”Doha tore a piece of bread and dipped it into the warm soup before taking a bite. Encouraged, Jean continued.“And you look so young, Eden. It was hard to really grasp that you were a professional in your field.”“…I see.”“Frankly, I never quite understood why you’d come all the way here to suffer just to play the piano. Sometimes you seemed a bit reckless, too… Those were my thoughts, though I kept them to myself.”With this level of honesty, there was no room to feel offended. As Doha stopped eating and looked at him, Jean awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.“But when I actually heard you play and saw how much you practiced, I realized I was wrong. I never imagined human fingers could move so fast. I still remember when my pinky could barely move one joint… I’m sorry I didn’t fully understand the hardships you’ve faced as Eden.”“…It’s fine, Jean.”Doha felt as though both giving and receiving apologies were unbearable. He blinked down at the soft white interior of the baguette.Jean reached out and patted Doha’s shoulder with his large hand.“Next year, things will go well. When you return to the stage as a world-class pianist and perform somewhere like the Royal Albert Hall, make sure to invite me to your concert.”“…Yes. When that time comes, please come and listen.”After finishing the meal and before returning to the dining hall to begin practicing, Doha stood for a moment, staring at the worn-out piano that had become familiar over the past few days. The old, empty hall had already lost the warmth of the heater, and a chilly air lingered.Doha recalled the London stage at the Royal Albert Hall, bathed in white light, a memory he had briefly forgotten. Standing beside Mrs. Murray’s piano, he had looked out at the hall, where only four empty chairs and Ulysses’ cushion remained.***The moment he plugged his phone into the charger and pressed the power button, it vibrated multiple times. Doha, intending only to check the time before heading back to the dining room, sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the screen.4 missed calls.Opening the call log, he saw Niklas’s name three times. There was also a text from him that began with, “Eden, why aren’t you picking up…?” The other missed call was from Daniel Hunt.Niklas wasn’t answering his phone either. After listening to the ringing for a while and hanging up, Doha dialed Daniel’s number.“Eden!”His voice was cheerful. Doha’s fingers flinched reflexively, as if recalling the countless brutal rehabilitation sessions.“Did you have a good Christmas, Dr. Hunt?”“Yes, I did. I spent time with family and rested as much as I wanted. How’s your hand?”“It’s fine. I’ve been keeping up with the rehab every day.”Doha briefly explained the weather and that he’d been staying at a mansion in Scotland for the past ten days, which seemed to surprise Daniel.“Wow. That must’ve been tough.”“I don’t think I’ll be back in London until January 4th or 5th, so could we reschedule the appointment set for the 3rd?”“Of course. We can have the appointment whenever you’re back. Just come home safely.”“Thank you. I’ll call you when I’m back.”As he was about to hang up, Daniel spoke as though something had just come to mind.“Oh, by the way, I called not only to check on your hand but for another reason.”“Yes?”“I have a fun story for you. My great-aunt knows who you are.”There was a hint of laughter in his voice.“I couldn’t tell her that I’m your doctor, of course, but during Christmas dinner, I mentioned I’d started listening to classical music recently… and it turns out my great-aunt is quite the expert. We ended up talking by the fireplace late into the night, and she recommended a lot of great albums.”“That sounds nice.”“Yeah, it was. When I mentioned your name, she had such an enthusiastic reaction. Apparently, she even saw you perform a few years ago. I was itching to tell her I actually know you.”Doha opened his mouth but hesitated. It wasn’t surprising that anyone in the UK who followed classical music would know him. After all, during his absence, his name had been treated like gossip in various publications, and he had been criticized by everyone from music critics to fellow pianists.“My great-aunt talked a lot about your playing style, but unfortunately, I couldn’t quite understand it all. I just wanted to let you know there’s a fan of yours close to me who finds it a real shame that you stopped performing.”His voice was gentle. After taking a breath, Doha thought back to his conversation with Jean and replied lightly.“Next time, come to the concert together. I’ll give you both good seats.”“Really? She’d be thrilled to hear that.”The conversation felt natural, as though it was about something that would eventually happen. After hanging up, Doha didn’t immediately head to dinner. Instead, he collapsed onto the bed. The bright light from the guest room ceiling brushed against his closed eyelids like a spotlight.***As the night deepened, the large dining hall grew eerier. Beyond the old velvet curtains, the damp darkness of the forest spread out, while the flickering shadows clung to each chandelier bulb. Jean and Hazel, who had come down to sit briefly after dinner, had both returned to their rooms by now.“…Oh, thank you.”Doha had nearly dropped the sheet music while hurriedly turning a page between left-hand chords, but someone had caught it just in time. Without even having the chance to properly look up at Tristan, Doha offered a quick thanks. The armchair had been empty whenever Doha glanced at it during practice, so Tristan must have entered unnoticed.He gave a slight nod, as if telling Doha to focus. Doha turned his gaze back to the new page, while Tristan silently took on the role of page-turner, standing far enough away not to obstruct his view or movements. His timing was impeccable, neither too early nor too late, as he reached out to turn the pages. He seemed to have no trouble keeping up with the complex sheet music. His skills rivaled those of Doha’s fellow students, who sometimes helped with this role.When Doha pressed the final chord and lifted his hands from the keys, he turned around.“Thank you… for your help.”“Did it help?”A faint smile played across Tristan’s pale face. Embarrassed at the delayed realization, Doha nodded, and instead of returning to the armchair, Tristan leaned on the old piano with his elbows. Even Mrs. Murray’s worn piano seemed like an expensive antique with him standing beside it.Watching Tristan rest his chin on the piano and gaze down at him, Doha got the feeling he was waiting for a more proper thank you. Searching for words, Doha finally spoke.“You’re as good as any page-turner I’ve ever worked with.”Only after saying it did Doha realize that wasn’t much of a compliment for the former chairman of the Locke Foundation, but to his surprise, Tristan laughed.“Eden, you can hire me.”“…Yes.”“But I might be a bit pricey.”“I usually play without sheet music unless it’s chamber music.”This time, he chuckled softly, bowing his head. The chandelier’s light flickered in his brown hair. He wore a white bathrobe, and his curly hair was still damp. It seemed he had just washed up on the third floor and come down immediately.“Your hair…”Doha murmured without realizing it. He raised his eyebrows with that still-laughing face.“It’s cold out, and you might catch a cold if you stay with your hair wet.”“…Ah.”Tristan brushed his bangs up and winced slightly at the dampness on his hands.“I didn’t realize. I hurried down too quickly.”The simplicity of his words seemed vast and deep, as if they could trip someone up. He hadn’t said he was in a rush to come to his practice room, nor had he mentioned that he hadn’t dried his hair properly just to hear his piano. Suddenly at a loss for where to look, Doha stared intently at the sheet music. He mindlessly sketched the rising and falling notes like black bean sprouts. He could feel the warmth of his flushed face where Tristan’s gaze lingered.His hand came down to adjust the sheet music on the stand, gently brushing the yellowed edges of the old paper with his fingertips.“Surprisingly, 20th-century pieces suit you well. Are you thinking of expanding your repertoire?”“…Yes.”His voice was low and kind, as if it were digging deep into every little crevice and indentation. Doha barely managed to reply, squeezing his throat.“I’m trying various styles. Even if my hand recovers, I can’t just go back to how it was right away… It will be difficult to play technique-heavy pieces for a while, so I should focus on other areas.”His white fingers came to the edge of his vision, picking up the sheet music one by one. He stacked the old papers noisily and spoke absentmindedly.“You’re surprisingly aware of reality.”“Denial would only waste time. I know the state of my hands very well.”Having lived since childhood with a keen sensitivity to the sensations at his fingertips, how could he not know? The two years of absence wouldn’t just vanish without a trace. Maybe much later, but for now, his fingers couldn’t perform with the same technique as before. He was no longer the pianist who was unafraid of any level of difficulty.“You should start with slower pieces. I’m lacking in study, and it’s hard to research unfamiliar styles on my own…”The man above his head remained silent. Doha repeated the words he had been mulling over while checking the weather forecast.“When I return to London this time, I plan to contact the professor who taught me in college. I’m not sure if he’ll welcome me… but whether it’s for private lessons or enrolling in a formal graduate program, I think I need consistent guidance.”“…….”“They say the roads to Inverness should be safe around January 4th, and since today is the 30th… I’ll just stay at the mansion for a few more days.”“Okay.”Tristan stood up. He placed the neatly stacked sheet music on the piano and returned to the comfortable chair in the audience area. Doha watched his straight and tidy back, then lifted his hands from the keyboard.“Are you tired? Would you like to go up first? I’ll only be here until eleven—”“Keep playing. I’ll stay here.”His hair fell over his face, making it hard to see. Doha opened the sheet music and placed it back on the stand, then paused again. The sound of the paper rustling seemed unusually loud. The previously comfortable atmosphere had become uncomfortable, as if a thorn had been inserted. Doha couldn’t figure out why and simply stared at the first measure of the sheet music.Between the audience and the stage, a silence had opened up like a crack between the man sitting in the armchair and himself. In the past, he might not have felt it, but now he could easily read his changing moods, like fickleness flipping over.At the end of the long silence, Tristan Locke spoke lightly.“I’ve realized something from listening to Eden’s practice these past few days. No matter how good the speakers are, they can’t replace a live performer. If this level of piano can’t do it, orchestras are out of the question.”He didn’t know whether “this level of piano” referred to his own performance level or Mrs. Murray’s old instrument. While Doha remained silent, Tristan continued to speak lightly, his gaze fixed on the worn curtains.“While an orchestra might be difficult, having a resident pianist here wouldn’t be a bad idea.”“…Someone other than me…”It was a thought that slipped out before he even realized it. Only then did Tristan’s gaze return to Doha. With his beautiful and cool face still unchanged, he replied softly.“Because you spend most of your time in London.”“…….”“You should be able to hear them whenever you want if they are the resident pianist. Just as Jean gave up his restaurant in London to come here and be my chef, I need someone who will play the piano solely for my enjoyment, without engaging in other performance activities.”“…Then…”“Don’t worry. It has nothing to do with our contract, right? You can use this piano while you’re here for the three days. The pianist can rest their hands during that time. They’ve probably worked hard to play for me for ten days.”“…….”A black mass slowly ignited in Doha’s belly. The image of someone other than him using the guest room, talking with Jean in the kitchen, holding and petting Ulysses, and performing in this dining hall for Tristan filled his mind vividly.Someone who belonged to this place more completely than he did, who would be far more skilled than his own clumsy fingers, and who could play any piece Tristan wanted to hear. If such a person existed, then during the three days he was there, Tristan’s armchair would be empty. Jean would feel less lonely, and dinner would be lively every evening.It was, as Tristan had said, completely unrelated to him. There was no reason why such a person shouldn’t be here, but a sense of rejection choked him.Tristan, who had been watching Doha quietly, added as if to extend a kind offer.“You can recommend a suitable pianist if you know one.”“…….”“Someone who is discreet, has a wide repertoire, and doesn’t have family living with them. Lowell will probably find someone well enough even if you don’t look for them.”Having said that, he stood up as if he had finished his remarks.“If your practice is over, let’s head up now.”His face was neat and cool. The bangs that covered his forehead had dried by now.Doha didn’t stand up, instead staring blankly at Tristan, the man from Jean. Did this mean they would go up to the third-floor bedroom together and he would fall asleep beside him? What had once felt normal now seemed strange and perplexing. The piano in front of him, the warmth he shared with him every night, was nowhere mentioned in their contract. It was his gesture of kindness toward him.As he was helplessly dragged along, Doha regained his senses and found himself in a landscape he didn’t recognize. He was not in the safe confines of his room with just a piano, but rather left in the middle of a forest where wild beasts howled and blizzards raged. This was not where he had intended to come. He hadn’t sought his peace in a place like this.Desperately taking a step back as if to reverse everything to the safe and dry terms of the contract, Doha opened his mouth.“I’ll go wash up.”The man turned back, resting his hand on the armrest of the armchair. A sneer flickered in his eyes, as if he understood the implications of Doha’s words.Unfazed, Doha continued.“It’s been ten days since I arrived, and I’ve already strayed from the planned schedule, but… even if it’s not today, could you please give me a few treatments before I go back to London?”He would need to visit his mentor upon returning. He could feel his hands stiffening bit by bit even now; in this condition, he wouldn’t be able to practice properly in London. The words he had hesitated to voice every night flowed out easily today.Tristan Locke, who had been listening silently, spoke with a serious expression.“Is that the attitude of someone making a request?”Doha froze in the bitter cold of winter that even the heater’s warmth couldn’t fend off.The man, who had been looking down at him impassively, turned away without a trace of reluctance. Passing by the shabby audience area and the empty wooden chairs, he spoke coldly over his shoulder.“I’m not feeling great today.”“…….”“If you’re leaving on the 4th, I’ll give you treatments from the 1st to the 3rd. Until then, you can sleep in the guest room, and come up to my room on the night of the 1st.”“…Yes.”He did not look back for the last time. His tall and straight figure disappeared across the hall, and the sound of the closing door echoed dryly against the high ceiling. Doha stood motionless beside the piano, as if about to follow.The winter wind that had cut through the forest buzzed as it shook the window frames. The heater surrounding the piano was blasting warmth, yet the fingertips resting on the keys felt as cold as ice.Was it just because they had shared a meal during Christmas, or because he had held him by the fireplace in the dead of night, that he had mistakenly thought they had become close? The impenetrable and solid fortress that surrounded Tristan Locke remained unchanged. Between him and Doha was a vast distance, just as it had been on the day he first arrived here.