Silas sat in his manor, the hearth cold. He didn’t believe in wasting wood on warmth he didn't think he deserved. To Silas, Christmas was a ledger—a day where people spent money they didn't have to buy feelings that didn't last.
The wind didn’t just blow in Oakhaven; it bit. It was Christmas Eve, but there were no glowing windows or sounds of caroling. The town was under the rule of Silas Vane, a man whose heart was rumored to be carved from the very granite of the mountain he lived upon. A Stone Cold Christmas
It was a stone-cold Christmas, but as he dropped the first bundle of wood at a neighbor's door, Silas felt the first stirrings of a thaw. Silas sat in his manor, the hearth cold