You Are Gentle, But You Don’t Love Me - chapter 17

‘Don’t cry, Julie. Arborea isn’t that far. I’ll visit often.’

Contrary to her bold promise, after her marriage, Rosalyn never returned to Caligari. The previous Marquess, who had eagerly awaited his only son’s wedding, abruptly handed over the title to Romeo.

Romeo suddenly became the Marquess, and Rosalyn, by extension, the Marchioness. Naturally, they became too busy to leisurely visit Caligari.

Juliet found herself oddly relieved.

To my beloved sister, Juliet Caligari.

In place of visiting, Rosalyn sent letters from time to time.

Their contents were mundane—Romeo had made another mistake, it would be better if she were the Marquess with Romeo as her consort, and other small frustrations mixed with snippets of daily life.

Even so, it was surprising.

Considering Rosalyn’s nature, which detested sitting still to scribble down letters, the fact that she consistently wrote was proof of her effort.

From the Arborea Marquessate office, Rosalyn Caligari Arborea.

The letters always ended the same way. Occasionally, the location would change to the drawing room or bedroom, but her name remained constant.

Rosalyn Caligari Arborea.

It was a sign—a small declaration that she still cared for and loved Juliet. The daughters of Caligari, Rosalyn and Juliet, remained sisters, each the other’s only one.

Juliet often stared at the length of her sister’s name before slowly penning a reply.

To my beloved sister, Rosalyn.

Her responses were equally mundane, filled with the same trivial details.

Today, I had tea with Father for the first time in a while, took a walk in the garden, and read a book. That was all she had to share.

Today, I snapped at the maids without realizing it. Father scolded me for it, but I didn’t want to hear it, so I stormed out of the room.

Today, the third son of Rogudoro came by again—Elijah, I think. We walked in the garden for quite some time without saying a word. Romeo would’ve been different.

Mother doesn’t seem pleased with him. If this continues, I might be sent to some foreign land no one’s even heard of.

Today, I got angry at Mother. I asked if she truly wanted to get rid of me… I shouldn’t have said that. I locked myself in the study and cried for hours, pretending to read.

The sentences she wrote in a moment of carelessness were often crossed out in haste. The ink smudges and scribbles were the remnants of words too raw, too revealing to be sent.

Her first brushes with resentment and envy were harder on her than anything else. The bitterness wasn’t directed outward—it burrowed inward, cutting her from within.

After crying herself to sleep while clutching her pillow, she’d wake the next day with a pounding headache, snapping at everyone around her.

That, in turn, brought guilt, resentment, and an unending cycle of self-loathing.

Today, Mother asked if I wanted to see the sea in Naples. Perhaps she intends to marry me off to a nobleman there. Or maybe she simply wants to rid Caligari of me altogether.

I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go anywhere. But I was never meant to stay in Caligari. I was always supposed to leave. You were meant to stay, Rosalyn.

I was supposed to go to Arborea. But unfortunately, Rosalyn, you are there. So I cannot go anywhere. And yet, I must go somewhere.

The unsent letters piled up. Lines she could never show anyone filled pages, only to be burned in the fire, reduced to ash.

I know I’m not fit to be the heir of the Caligari Duchy. But watching Mother tirelessly arrange matches for me makes me feel like I have no value beyond becoming someone’s wife.

Unlike you.

Her nerves grew more frayed by the day, her mind circling endlessly with negative thoughts that always came back to stab her in the heart.

It would be better if I just disappeared.

One day, she burned a letter containing nothing but that single sentence. Juliet realized she was utterly exhausted.

Perhaps, to some, what she endured was trivial. Just a broken engagement, nothing more.

Others might say she should simply shake it off and move on to find a brighter future.

But the heart, the soul, is not the same for everyone. Juliet’s soul was undoubtedly small, fragile, and jagged.

Otherwise, how could something so trivial as—

You must become a proper lady. If you want to live proudly as the Marchioness of Arborea someday.

While Rosalyn leads Caligari, you will support Arborea. That is how it will be.

—the loss of a future decided for her at the age of five—

Who could’ve predicted this would happen? But it’s out of our hands now. You have to understand, all right?

Keep yourself together. Rosalyn seems to be doing well in Arborea.

—or the fact that her bl00d sister had taken that future instead, cause her to deteriorate so completely?

Arborea is as busy as ever, and Romeo is still a bit of a fool… But we’re making it work. To my beloved sister, Juliet. I hope your days are as joyful as mine.

Something so trivial shouldn’t have aged her soul this much.

And so, Juliet decided to put a lid on her heart, hiding the pale, brittle fragments of her soul from everyone.

“I’m sorry. She didn’t know and thought it was trash… She threw it out by mistake.”

“I’m so sorry, miss. I had no idea how much it meant to you…”

“…Miss?”

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”

Juliet had placed a lid over her heart and surrounded herself with walls. She pretended not to see or hear, even when she could.

To protect herself from being hurt by others. And to ensure she didn’t hurt anyone else.

She drifted through her days, moving as though she weren’t really there. Like a ghost tethered to life, but no longer a part of it.

“Miss Juliet seems lost in thought lately.”

“She doesn’t smile or cry… Honestly, I wish she’d just get angry instead.”

“Juliet, what’s wrong? Are you really okay?”

“I’m fine. Really, I am.”

As she let everything pass her by, time flowed quickly. Winter gave way to spring, and before she realized it, summer had come and gone.

Just as the seasons passed without meaning, Juliet’s life drifted along aimlessly.

“A proposal has come from the royal family of Aragon. But the match is…”

“…”

“Juliet? Are you listening?”

“…Yes. Please, go on.”

Juliet observed everything from behind an invisible barrier, like a rose growing in a glass case, gazing out at the windswept world while avoiding it all at once.

“It’s best to decline. Even if Sardinia is somewhat isolated from the mainland nobility, you’re still the daughter of a duke…”

“I’m fine with it.”

“…Are you certain?”

Inside the glass case, she wouldn’t grow larger or bloom more vibrantly. But at least—

“Yes. In fact, I prefer it. It means I can stay in Sardinia.”

“Juliet…”

—she could live quietly, fading away naturally. She wouldn’t be uprooted, her stems snapped, or her petals torn by pests. She wouldn’t be hurt by her own thorns or left ragged by insects.

Just quietly… quietly…

But there was one thing Juliet hadn’t realized.

The heart she had locked away and ignored wouldn’t simply dissolve or disappear on its own.

The Night Before the Wedding

Cassio Bellanea finally arrived in Sardinia. However, due to the old custom that forbade the bride and groom from meeting before the wedding day, Juliet couldn’t see him.

Instead of her soon-to-be husband, she received an unexpected visitor.

“Julie!”

No matter how busy she was, Rosalyn wasn’t the type to skip her beloved sister’s wedding.

Of course, as the Marchioness of Arborea, she also couldn’t miss the establishment of a new noble house in Sardinia.

But above all, Rosalyn simply wanted to see her sister again. With a joyful smile, she burst into Juliet’s room unannounced.

“…Rosie?”

“Oh my! It’s been ages since anyone called me that!”

Laughing heartily, Rosalyn stepped into the room, but Juliet’s face froze.

“I thought we’d inevitably meet tomorrow… but I didn’t expect you to show up here tonight.”

Without any time to prepare herself, Juliet now faced the sister she both deeply resented and loved with all her heart.

“It must be overwhelming, right? Weddings are like that. They drain every ounce of energy… But I wanted to talk, even if just for a little while.”

“…”

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll be a duchess. But before that happens, I wanted to talk to you just as my beloved sister.”

At that moment, Juliet had no idea what she would end up saying to her.

“Ta-da! I even brought tea! It’s great for relaxation and your complexion, so don’t refuse, okay?”

“…All right. Come in.”

And so, Juliet let Rosalyn into her room. It was a decision made almost carelessly, though perhaps, in some ways, it felt inevitable.