You Are Gentle, But You Don’t Love Me - Chapter 43

Juliet took slow steps forward. One step. Two.

Cassio, who had been gradually nearing her at the same unhurried pace, suddenly stood before her in an instant.

The night remained silent. So still that even the rustling of leaves in the faint breeze was strikingly clear.

Yet she had not heard the sound of his footsteps as he approached.

And so she thought,

“Ah, this must be a dream after all.”

A midsummer night’s dream—where the darkness was light, but the silence was deep.

Cassio stopped just in front of her, barely a single step away.

“Good evening, Juliet.”

The greeting was the same as always.

His voice drifted through the air like a whisper—soft, scattering like petals in the wind. He spoke her name as if reciting an old poem, making something so simple sound achingly beautiful.

It was the same gentle greeting Cassio Bellanea always offered her in this place.

“What brings you out at this late hour? And in such light clothing, no less.”

“…”

“Were you out for a midnight stroll?”

Juliet gazed up at him in silence. Cassio’s pale green eyes gleamed vividly even under the moonlight, clear as dewdrops on fresh blades of grass.

Beautiful.

The thought barely formed before he smiled, his eyes folding gently.

“Juliet, you don’t seem fully awake.”

That’s not true.

“It is, though.”

Could he hear her thoughts?

“You’re speaking, aren’t you?”

No, I’m not…

“Yes, you are.”

She had only thought the words, yet Cassio responded playfully.

Yes—this had to be a dream.

“What an interesting dream,” she mused.

“Shall we call it that, then? If that’s what you prefer.”

Cassio whispered with a smile, his voice warm and syrupy. A small sound echoed in her chest, as if something had softly clicked into place.

“But if you stay like this, you might catch a cold.”

No, I won’t.

“Is that so?”

You can’t catch a cold in a dream.

“I see.”

His tone was utterly unconvinced. He shrugged lightly, as if humoring her.

“Well… Juan did mention that the Duchess is surprisingly sturdy. Rarely gets sick, hardly catches colds.”

Juliet nodded quietly.

Because of her small and slender frame, people often assumed she was frail. But in truth, Juliet was rather resilient.

Of course, this was a dream, so it hardly mattered.

“A short walk should be fine, then. Shall we?”

She nodded again. Cassio grinned and took her hand—just as he often did when they walked together.

His hand was large, firm, and rough.

And yet, when he intertwined his fingers with hers, it always felt strangely gentle.

Perhaps it was because he was always so careful. Even after all this time, each time he took her hand, he held it as though she might shatter.

“…”

Juliet tightened her grip ever so slightly.

Cassio’s fingers stiffened for a brief moment before he, too, held her hand more firmly. His warmth enveloped hers.

Hand in hand, they began walking slowly through the garden.

“For a moment, I thought I was dreaming,” he mused. “Seeing you here… Ah, but that’s right. This is a dream, isn’t it? You’re the one dreaming.”

“…”

“Is that why you’re not speaking?”

Juliet hesitated before shaking her head.

Even without words, he seemed to know her thoughts. There was no need to say anything.

Besides—

What if I wake up?

Somehow, it felt like the moment she spoke aloud, Cassio would disappear.

I don’t want that.

Cassio let out a low chuckle.

“I take it this isn’t such a bad dream, then?”

Without a second thought, Juliet nodded.

It was a lovely dream.

The tepid summer night, the cool glow of the moon. The lavender in full bloom, shimmering under the moonlight. The cypress trees, their leaves kissed by tiny beads of dew.

And Cassio Bellanea, walking beside her.

A kind, beautiful person.

“What an honor.”

The courtyard, filled with lavender and cypress, was not particularly large. Walking a full circle around it did not take long.

Yet even after completing a round, Juliet did not stop. She simply kept walking, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Cassio walked beside her, matching her pace. He did not stop her, nor did he let her walk alone.

He spoke to her now and then, his voice laced with amusement, like a quiet breeze.

“Are you cold?”

A nod.

“Still lost in your dream, my Juliet?”

Another nod.

Even to his idle, nonsensical questions, Juliet simply nodded.

She was content.

A beautiful place, a beautiful person, walking together in slow, endless circles.

If this were the dream, she would gladly remain trapped in it forever.

At this moment, no matter what Cassio said, she felt she could simply nod along.

Even if he told her he loved her.

Even if he told her he loved someone else.

“Juliet, why…?”

…Huh?

But the moment the thought crossed her mind, something shifted.

The soft glow of moonlight fractured into scattered fragments.

The garden, which had been still, wavered like a reflection rippling upon shallow water.

“Wait—hold on. Juliet.”

Their slow, steady steps came to an abrupt halt.

Cassio had stopped her.

Juliet staggered slightly before regaining her balance, looking up at him.

Her vision wavered, blurred, then cleared—again and again.

Cassio’s face, too, flickered in and out of focus.

And he—

He was wearing an expression of uncharacteristic rigidity.

Why?

“You… right now…”

He didn’t seem angry. His furrowed brows and slightly creased forehead might have appeared cold at first glance, but—

The pale green eyes gazing down at Juliet looked more concerned than anything else.

“Juliet, we should go back now.”

Ah, of course.

It must be time to wake up.

That’s why…

No.

She didn’t want to wake up.

Because the real you would never be this kind to me.

“Why do you think that?”

The real Cassio never smiled at her so gently.

Never slowed his steps to match hers.

Never laced his fingers through hers as if he wanted to hold on.

Never spoke her name with such warmth.

The real you isn’t like that.

“Wait, hold on. Juliet.”

The real Cassio would walk ahead without a second thought, never looking back when she stumbled.

Would only question her sincerity when she gathered the courage to whisper a confession.

Would only look down at her with that cold, rigid expression—

“…Juliet?”

But here, in this beautiful dream, you are kind to me.

Here, you laugh playfully, saying it’s your duty to catch me if I trip.

Here, you whisper sweetly that you’ll go anywhere with me.

Here, you act as if—

As if you love Juliet Cagliari.

So I don’t want to wake up.

But… it wasn’t real, was it?

Not even in a dream.

“…Juliet.”

Cassio was still holding her hand.

Still touching her so carefully.

Juliet clenched his fingers tightly.

“Your Grace.”

For the first time that night, Juliet spoke his name aloud.

Her voice, slipping between her lips, was strangely low and hoarse.

It didn’t sound like hers at all.

But Cassio didn’t answer.

His lips moved slightly, hesitantly—but no words came.

—Because you call my name.

Suddenly, the voice in her mind was her own.

The real voice of Juliet Cagliari.

Not the low, rough voice escaping her lips now—

But the voice of the girl she once was.

—Yes. That’s why. Because only you call my name.

“…Cassio.”

The name left her lips without thinking.

And at that, he shut his mouth completely.

Cassio, who had been silently parting his lips, finally pressed them together.

His faint smile wavered, and his brows creased ever so slightly. A thin shadow fell across his pale forehead.

That expression again.

The one he wore when he thought of someone else.

A face twisted with pain, yet at the same time, alight with joy.

Looking straight at her—yet seeing someone else.

“No.”

The word slipped out before she could stop it.

Juliet tilted her head slightly, frowning just as he had.

A single tear, hot against her cool skin, rolled down her cheek.

“Don’t make that face.”

Don’t look at me and think of someone else.

Don’t grieve for another while I stand right before you.

Don’t smile for someone else.

Don’t love someone else.

“Why…?”

But Cassio still wore that same expression.

One of resignation and longing, of despair and desire—

A face both utterly lost and yet unable to let go.

The same face he had made before.

When he reached for someone who was not her.

“Why, Juliet?”

His voice, so gentle just moments ago, dropped low.

Rough, edged with something sharp, like metal grating against stone.

As if the words had been clawed from deep within him.

“Why…?”

“…”

Juliet parted her lips to speak—

And then hesitated.

Somewhere along the way, the haze in her vision had cleared.

Is this… really a dream?

“It is.”

“…”

“This is a dream. It must be. Because otherwise—there’s no way you would…”

Cassio had begun speaking as if answering her thoughts, but his voice trailed off.

As if he had started talking to himself instead.

His words, muttered in urgency, dissolved into silence.

And then—

Cassio collapsed.

“So please… keep saying it, Juliet. Keep telling me this is a dream. That when we wake up, everything will return to how it was. So please…”

He fell.

Not like a man fainting, but as if his body had simply given out.

Sinking before her, Cassio knelt, looking up at her in desperate plea.

“Please…”

It was strange.

Looking down at him, she felt something unfamiliar stir inside her.

Cassio Bellanea, always so composed, always standing tall—

Now, with that powerful frame bowed before her, he looked unbearably fragile.

Yet…

She didn’t like it.

Juliet leaned forward.

Cassio’s face, so close now, was framed by the earth beneath them.

The fine fabric of his clothes brushed against the dirt, but he paid it no mind.

Even from this close, she couldn’t smell his scent.

The scent that always clung to him when she stood near.

Of ripe fruit and flowers, of tobacco leaves and musk.

And of the sea.

Because this is a dream.

She whispered.