You Are Gentle, But You Don’t Love Me - Chapter 49

“Juliet?”

“…Ah.”

At the sound of his worried voice, Juliet blinked slowly, as if waking from a trance.

When she finally came to her senses, her cheeks were wet.

So, in the end, she had cried.

After wandering the entire castle just to avoid doing so.

“Are you okay?”

She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand and nodded.

But Romeo still didn’t seem reassured, shifting uneasily as he watched her.

Juliet gave him a bright smile.

“I’m okay. I mean—”

She was aware that it must have looked ridiculous—smiling like that with her face soaked in tears.

But she couldn’t help it.

“I cried because I was happy.”

Because tonight, she was in love.

And the sheer happiness of it was overwhelming.

“So… Romeo?”

“Hic… Julie…”

She might have been able to savor the moment a little longer—if Romeo Arborea hadn’t suddenly started crying.

“Hic… Thank goodness… Hic… I’m so relieved… Hic… You…”

As he buried his face in his knees and sobbed, her own tears immediately dried up.

A fully grown man, a marquis no less, curling up like a child and crying his heart out—it was absurd.

“Romeo, have you really not changed at all?”

“Hic… Julie…”

Romeo Arborea was exactly the same.

She had lost count of how many times, even when they were younger, he had suddenly burst into tears in front of her, leaving her to console him.

“Please, stop crying… I don’t want to comfort a man I don’t even love anymore…”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

Before she ever harbored feelings for him, little Juliet used to think about it often.

If Rosalyn was the kind of sister one couldn’t help but admire, then Romeo… was dependable at times but mostly just a bit pathetic, like an older brother.

“Hic… I’m so relieved… Hic…”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.”

In the end, Juliet couldn’t help but laugh.

Reluctantly, her hand moved to pat his shoulder—just as Romeo Arborea had once done for Juliet Calliari when they were children.

“Ahem, we should head back now. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, we should.”

After sniffling for a while longer, Romeo was the first to stand up.

As Juliet busied herself gathering up the hem of her dress from where it had sprawled over the grass, a hand suddenly appeared in front of her.

“Come on. Be careful not to trip.”

Juliet stared at Romeo’s hand for a moment, then took it, rising to her feet.

“Romeo, you still haven’t made up with Rosie, have you?”

“……”

“Idiot Roro.”

“I told you not to call me that…”

Their footsteps felt light as they walked back, talking about nothing in particular.

＊ ＊ ＊

That night, Juliet returned to her room in surprisingly good spirits.

Her meeting with Romeo had been entirely unexpected, and their conversation had taken turns she could never have predicted.

But in the end…

‘Maybe it was for the best.’

It had helped her settle her heart.

Far better than letting herself be swept away by her emotions, flailing helplessly.

Of course, the moment she saw Cassio again, she would probably feel as though she were drowning in the deep sea once more.

One moment exhilarated, the next inexplicably melancholic—then suddenly, out of nowhere, giddy with joy again.

But that was fine.

Because all of it was proof of her love.

‘Tomorrow, I’ll go find His Grace first.’

She made a small resolution.

She would be the one to seek him out first, just as he had done for her.

She would be the first to greet him.

And if Cassio happened to smile at her…

Then she would be sure to smile back.

‘And… and…’

Juliet mumbled to herself for a long time, tossing and turning.

Until, eventually, she drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

But two days and half a morning later—

“…I’m not okay.”

With a dull thud, she flopped onto the drawing-room table and murmured softly.

The summer banquet was fast approaching.

So far, only three guests had arrived at Escalus.

Of course, the only one who had come with an official invitation was Romeo, but soon, many more would follow.

The preparations for the banquet were nearly complete.

Juliet didn’t have much left to do, but there were still a few things she wanted to check, which was why she had come down to the drawing room.

Yet instead of looking at the documents the butler had placed before her, she remained slumped over the table.

She pressed her forehead against the cool wooden surface—then, suddenly, she lifted her head.

“…Phew.”

Only to collapse back down again.

The maids watching her exchanged glances.

She didn’t seem to realize it herself, but for nearly an hour, she had been repeating the same actions.

Slumping onto the table.

Lifting her head abruptly.

Muttering something to herself.

Then flopping back down with a groan.

The maids struggled to hold back their laughter.

Not because they found their mistress’s distress amusing—of course not.

It was just…

“I’m fine.”

That was the phrase they had heard most often from Juliet Calliari Escalus.

She was a good mistress.

She never threw tantrums for no reason, nor did she lash out at her servants without cause.

“It’s really fine.”

But for years, every time she said that, the maids had worried.

Because they knew she wasn’t really fine.

Her expression, as lifeless as a doll’s.

As if she had no interest in the world.

Speaking in a dry, indifferent tone, calling everything ‘fine.’

She had been like a flower left to wither on the stem.

A bloom that had long passed its season, unable even to let go and fall.

There had been many who feared she might crumble at any moment.

“…It’s not fine. Not fine at all…”

“Juliet?”

“…Ah.”

At the sound of his worried voice, Juliet blinked slowly, as if waking from a trance.

She hadn’t even realized she was speaking aloud.

The murmur of her own voice drifted absently through the air, as if she wasn’t aware of it herself.

The maids exchanged glances once more, struggling not to smile.

Because for the first time in a very, very long time, Juliet had said she wasn’t okay.

But Juliet, the one receiving those gentle, affectionate looks, was too lost in thought to notice.

‘He’s driving me mad.’

It had been two days and half a morning since she resolved to seek Cassio out first and greet him properly.

Yet she had never once had the chance to put that resolution into action.

“His Grace has gone shooting with Sir Elijah Logudoro.”

“His Grace has gone horseback riding with the Marquess of Arborea.”

“His Grace has…”

The moment Cassio was free from his sickbed, he had become someone Juliet could never seem to catch.

And so, she was reminded—quite painfully—that the man she loved was not just kind and beautiful but also tall, strong, and very much a soldier.

Shooting, horseback riding—things she neither knew how to do nor had any intention of learning.

She hadn’t even thought of following him there.

But even after he returned to the castle, she couldn’t find him.

‘How does he never stop moving?’

She would hear he was in the courtyard, only to find he had gone to the stables.

By the time she reached the stables, he would be at the annex.

And after making her way across the entire estate to the annex, she would hear that he had already returned to the main castle.

A true hero of the Aragonese navy—his ability to vanish was nothing short of remarkable.

After searching for him all day, night had fallen before she knew it.

And somehow, by then, Cassio had already retired for the evening.

With no choice left, Juliet had sighed and gone to bed, promising herself she would try again the next day.

But the next day was exactly the same.

“Has His Grace been seen anywhere…?”

“I’m sorry, my lady, I wouldn’t know…”

“Then…?”

By now, not even the servants knew where he had gone.

And so, after giving up the search, Juliet had left word to inform her if anyone found Cassio—then promptly collapsed onto the drawing-room table, where she had remained for an hour.

‘No matter how big the castle is, how could no one know where he’s gone? With all the eyes and ears in this place… Where is he…?’

She pressed her forehead against the now lukewarm wood, sighing in frustration.

Then, suddenly, her head snapped up.

But this time, she didn’t flop back down.

Still unaware of the maids quietly watching her, she abruptly stood from her seat.

‘A place in the castle where someone could hide from everyone’s eyes…’

If there was anyone who knew such places well, it was Juliet Calliari.

If Rosalyn Calliari had a knack for tearing through the castle on wild adventures, then Juliet Calliari had a gift for slipping away into the most secluded corners she could find.

A tiny attic at the very top of the main keep, a place no one ever looked.

A forgotten library filled with nothing but old, strange books.

A remote drawing room no one ever entered, or a hidden grove tucked within the overgrown gardens.

And among those places, there was only one Cassio knew.

The library.

A vivid image flickered in her mind—Cassio, dozing off the moment he was made to sit still.

Juliet didn’t hesitate.

She bolted from the drawing room, leaving behind a careless wave.

The maids, who had barely managed to suppress their laughter, finally let it slip as they watched her disappear.

She ran past the voices of servants shouting outside as they moved things around.

Up the sunlit staircase, where golden afternoon light streamed through the tall windows.

And then, nearly running, she arrived.

“Haa…”

At the heart of the afternoon, deep within the old library—

There, in the corner, Cassio sat on a small sofa, his back turned to her.

“…Asleep again.”

His broad shoulders slumped against the backrest, his fiery red hair nodding dangerously forward.

If he was going to fall asleep, he might as well lie down properly.

Instead, he sat haphazardly, his head tilted to the side…

As if he had left room for someone to sit beside him.

“…Hoo, ha, hoo, ha…”

Juliet took a few deep breaths, steadying herself before approaching him.

She gazed at his peaceful, sleeping face and smiled faintly.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”

The words she had repeated in her head for the past two days finally tumbled from her lips.

Of course, to the sleeping Cassio, they would be nothing more than a fleeting whisper.

But those few simple words—

They made everything that hadn’t been okay… feel okay again.

At least, to Juliet.