You Are Gentle, But You Don’t Love Me - Chapter 3

The entire scene was awash in shades of green and white, with a vivid crimson glow swaying gently in the center like red wine swirling in a glass.

Faint golden light clung to the tips of his red hair, shimmering as though it defied the shadows draped around them. Despite the blue-hued shade enveloping the surroundings, that spot alone seemed to catch the sunlight. Below the gleaming hair, soft green eyes sparkled like the delicate shoots of freshly sprouted grass.

Cassio Bellanea Escalus.

“Hello, Juliet.”

His pale lips curved upward into a charming and deliberate smile.

“A fine afternoon for a stroll, don’t you think?”

Juliet, who had kept her gaze lowered until that moment, suddenly looked up in surprise. Her eyes wavered, revealing her unease.

“…”

Cassio’s shoulders were still tightly wrapped in pristine white bandages. Her gaze faltered, snagging momentarily on the stark brightness of the fabric.

“Oh.”

Noticing her focus, Cassio shifted slightly, tilting his body with casual ease as though redirecting her attention. Juliet’s gaze instinctively followed, sliding upward to meet his face.
“Did I startle you?”

For anyone observing a man, bound in bandages, moving so effortlessly, the answer would have surely been yes.

‘He looks… thinner.’

Her thoughts wandered back to the time they had spent together—five days and five nights that had left fragmented yet vivid impressions. Above all, she could distinctly recall his face as it had appeared back then, framed by the pale light of late winter or early spring, when the clouds had parted just enough to let through faint rays of sunshine.

‘Yes, he’s definitely thinner.’

The Cassio who now stood before her seemed leaner than she remembered. His skin appeared rougher, his jawline sharper.
‘And his hair…’

The once-vivid red strands seemed lighter, almost faded. Perhaps the golden hues she’d noticed weren’t just a trick of the sun but a sign of change. Could it be the constant exposure to the sea breeze and sunlight? Had that vibrant red finally dulled?
Yet his untarnished, pale skin—a mark of his northern lineage—remained flawless. Or was it simply that his injuries had not yet fully healed?

“Juliet, if you keep staring at me like that, I might start to blush.”

“Ah…”

Juliet snapped out of her thoughts, realizing she had been silently scrutinizing him without even acknowledging his greeting.

“My lord.”

Placing one hand lightly on her chest and the other on her skirt, she bowed formally. As she lowered herself, her gaze fell to the moss growing between the white stone steps beneath her feet. Yet, even with her head bowed, the crimson hue of his hair seemed to flicker persistently in her vision, like an afterimage burned into her mind.

“It’s not… No, it’s nothing. Please, rise.”

Juliet straightened herself slowly, but her eyes remained fixed on the moss-covered stones. She didn’t dare meet his gaze.

She was at a loss. Encountering Cassio Bellanea here of all places, in this quiet corner of the estate, was entirely unexpected.

‘Why is he here…?’

The faint dizziness she felt wasn’t merely from standing under the glaring sunlight. She bit her lip and stood frozen, her mind scrambling for what to do next.

‘I don’t know.’

How should she act in this situation?

“How long do you plan to stand there? Come up here.”

Had Cassio not spoken, Juliet might have remained rooted in place, staring downward. She might have even turned and retreated into the estate, feigning nonchalance.

But now that he had addressed her, retreating was no longer an option. Besides…

“It’s been three days, hasn’t it?”

“…”

“Even though we live under the same roof, it’s hard to run into you. Oh, don’t get me wrong—I’m not blaming you. If anything, I should apologize for not even joining you for a meal.”

His tone was warm, without a trace of reproach.

‘If anyone’s to apologize, it’s me… I haven’t visited him even once.’

Her heart twisted with guilt.

Resolving not to avoid him any longer, Juliet ascended the gazebo steps.

One, two, three steps. Halfway up, a large hand suddenly appeared in her line of sight.

Juliet hesitated briefly before accepting it.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

As soon as Juliet reached the top, Cassio released her hand quickly, as though the gesture had been entirely formal.
Juliet stood a step or two away from him, unsure of where to place herself. Cassio, meanwhile, turned back toward the garden, his gaze drifting over the sprawling greenery below.

Perhaps he had been standing there the entire time, even before she had emerged from the manor.

Following his lead, Juliet looked out over the garden as well. The golden rays of the summer sun bathed everything in a dazzling brilliance.

“Sardinia calls summer the season of blessings,” Cassio’s low voice brushed against her ears—soft, yet strikingly clear.

“They say the sunlight, the breeze, and the sky are as serene and beautiful as blessings themselves.”

His voice was like foam dissolving into mist upon a seaside cliff, fleeting yet unforgettable.

“It truly seems so, doesn’t it?”

Perhaps it stayed with her because of the way he said her name.
“Juliet.”

Hearing her name, Juliet realized with a start that it had been a long time since anyone had called her that.

“For the past three years, have you enjoyed peaceful, blessed summers in this place?”

At last, Cassio turned from the garden to look at her. Their gazes met briefly, but it was enough to stir something inside her.

“I hope you have,” he added softly, as if his hope stemmed from the fact that he had not.

A silence hung between them.

Juliet’s heart, however, was anything but still. It had been churning restlessly for the past three years. While her surroundings remained calm and tranquil, her inner turmoil never ceased.

“Juliet!”

Her thoughts drifted, flipping through frayed pages of memory. Over and over, she revisited them, until they were worn thin.
“Come here.”

Like a floating leaf, unmoored and directionless, she had spent a thousand days and nights lost in endless ruminations.

“But…”

The man standing before her, however, had lived those thousand days and nights genuinely unmoored—out at sea.

While Juliet basked in Sardinia’s tranquil sunlight, Cassio had weathered harsh winds on the open ocean. While she sat by the fireplace soaking in its warmth, he fought against towering waves.

The weight of those years finally sank in. More than when he had first appeared at the castle gates, bearing unseen wounds, his presence now struck her with a sobering clarity.

An overwhelming sense of guilt washed over her, tinged with a vague sense of shame. She couldn’t find the words to respond.
“…”

She lowered her gaze first, breaking their brief connection. Cassio turned back toward the garden.

Even then, she couldn’t bring herself to answer.

“I missed you so much it hurt.”

Such words felt too bold, a sentiment too far removed from where they now stood.

“It was unbearable.”

She couldn’t say that either. Compared to Cassio Bellanea’s three years, Juliet Cagliari’s life had been serene and idyllic.
“It was wonderful.”

To say that with a smile felt equally impossible.

“…”

She didn’t know how to respond.

But for the past three years, every summer, Juliet had made her way to this gazebo.

Set several steps above the garden path, it offered a clear view of the lush grounds below. Behind it, a grove of white poplars formed a natural wall, their leaves shimmering between deep green and silver as the wind passed through, producing a sound like waves.

“Juliet, I’ve been looking for you. Didn’t we plan to visit the sea today…?”

The Escalus estate didn’t offer a view of the sea. But here, under the white gazebo’s shade, staring out at the sunlit garden, it felt as though she were on a hillside, the ocean at her back.

At least in moments like these, she could convince herself:
“Perhaps I do lead a blessed life.”

Even if no one remained by her side. Even if she were the only one left in the castle.

“Yes,” Juliet finally whispered, her voice soft yet deliberate.
The past three years hadn’t been purely beautiful, nor had they been entirely happy.

But at the very least, she had basked in the summer’s blessings—the sunlight, the breeze—and found moments of peace.

“So you’ve had peaceful summers,” Cassio said, chuckling faintly.

Despite his lighthearted tone, the laugh barely reached his lips. The corners of his mouth twitched briefly before settling into a neutral line. His pale green eyes reflected the sunlight, shimmering faintly.

It reminded Juliet of a time long ago. Beneath heavy curtains, amidst the flicker of candlelight, she had seen his eyes gleam like this before.

“Juliet.”

His voice, soft and gentle, echoed faintly in her memory.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“But…”

“There’s no need to worry. I promise everything will be fine. So don’t push yourself too hard.”

His tone had always been soft, flowing like honey, unlike the sharp and clipped speech common in Sardinia.

It sounded kind.

That gentleness had never changed, even with the passing years.
“That’s a relief,” Cassio murmured suddenly, breaking her reverie.

A breeze stirred behind him, rustling the poplar leaves in a cascade of green and silver.

The rustling sound, like waves crashing, filled the space between them. Cassio stood amid the golden light filtering through the trees, his crimson hair glowing faintly as the sunlight kissed its strands.

Surrounded by the sound of leaves and sunlight, Juliet’s husband smiled faintly and said, “Truly, that’s a relief.”
That smile seemed laced with sorrow—though perhaps it was just her imagination.

Lowering her gaze, unable to meet his eyes, Juliet couldn’t be sure.