You Are Gentle, But You Don’t Love Me - Chapter 50

“Good day, Your Grace. Did you have a pleasant afternoon?”

Juliet’s handwriting was poor. The pen she held, at first, traced the letters in a somewhat neat fashion, curling gracefully, but after writing a few lines, ink would inevitably splatter in random directions.

She attributed this to a lack of strength in her grip. Such things are innate, she reasoned, and no amount of practice would improve her writing. She had never truly had the enthusiasm to practice in the first place.

Among the Sardinian nobility, half of them could not even write. Having poor handwriting was no matter for criticism.

“Yet, seeing you so drowsy, I wonder if perhaps you are not sleeping well at night.”

For the first time, Juliet found herself somewhat frustrated with her inability to write beautifully. She regretted not having practiced more earlier.

As she wrote a mere note, which could hardly be called a letter, intended for her husband, she tried hard to make it look a little more refined, despite its brevity.

“If that is the case, do let me know. I have a gift that might help you sleep more soundly.”

While writing such a simple thing, she did her best to form the letters as neatly as she could. She tightened her grip to ensure that even the brief words did not appear unsightly in his eyes.

Juliet Calliari Escalus.

As she wrote Escalus, that still unfamiliar name, the ink spilled uncontrollably, but the name alone felt like a confession of love. Her eager hand had moved impulsively, and the ink splattered without control.

She placed the note, now stained with ink, into the sleeping Cassio’s hand, her heart pounding as she did so. Juliet hurriedly left the study, almost running away from the scene.

The night passed, but no reply came. Nor did he come.

Instead of feeling disappointed, Juliet placed a well-dried bundle of lavender on the handle of her husband’s bedroom door, accompanied by a card even shorter than the note she had placed in his hand earlier.

“I hope you have a peaceful sleep, free from dreams.”

Even after drying it, Juliet found herself unable to deliver the bundle right away, and it sat for a long time, adorning a corner of her own bedroom. The fresh scent of newly cut flowers had faded, replaced by a sweet, honeyed floral fragrance.

After briefly holding the lavender in her hand, the fragrance lingered faintly on her fingertips. Juliet inhaled the scent before returning to her room, hoping the fragrance would bring Cassio a peaceful and restful night.

However, despite Juliet’s sweet wish, Cassio could not sleep that night. Nor could she.

＊ ＊ ＊

At some point, Juliet suddenly awoke.

Her head was foggy. It felt as though she had just woken from a very long dream. There was a vague sense of déjà vu, as though this had happened before.

But as soon as her eyes opened, the memories of the dream dissipated into the air.

“Ugh…”

Only the feelings remained. A heart filled with sorrow, distress, and pain. Her chest felt heavy, as if it could hardly hold the weight of everything, and the breath was tight. Unable to hold back, tears began to roll down her cheeks.

At that moment, as though by magic, Cassio appeared.

“Juliet?”

His pale green eyes peered down at her through the door, which he had suddenly thrown open. The position of his eyes seemed unusually high, and Juliet, dazed, realized that she was sitting on the floor.

She saw the white soles of her bare feet exposed beneath the blanket that had carelessly covered her legs on the cold corridor floor. When she looked up again, Cassio stood on the other side of the door, looking down at her.

“Why…?”

The question, not even fully formed, was swallowed before it could be voiced. The sorrow surged once more, bringing tears to her eyes.

In the green gaze that looked down at her, Juliet could faintly see the cold, glaring eyes of another person overlapping with Cassio’s.

Ah, yes.

Those same beautiful pale green eyes, now cold and piercing as they stared at her.

He must dislike me…

“Ugh…”

Juliet, who had been looking up at Cassio with her head tilted back, dropped her gaze back down. She could no longer meet his eyes through the veil of tears that blurred her vision.

It’s strange.

She could not understand why she felt this way. Just before falling asleep, everything had seemed fine. Even if Cassio were avoiding her, she would have thought it didn’t matter.

Even if he did not love her, she was happy just knowing she loved him.

She had fallen asleep feeling at peace. But when she opened her eyes again, the joy was nowhere to be found, as if it had been nothing more than an illusion. An inexplicable sense of anxiety rose up to her throat.

It feels like this person dislikes me. Perhaps he will always feel this way. And in the end…

She had the strange, unshakable feeling that he would leave her, leave the Sardinian lands, and never return.

It was a peculiar, unshakable certainty, a feeling deeply embedded within her. If Juliet Calliari’s instincts had first recognized the past in the gaze he lingered on at sunset, and if her irritation at his absence in recent days had been the anxiety and restlessness of a one-sided love, now, it was her intuition engraved in her soul.

Cassio Bellanea would eventually leave Juliet Calliari alone.

And she would once again be left all alone, until her body sank into the deep ocean and her life faded away.

This is so strange.

It was an anxiety without foundation. She had never even been submerged in water up to her head. The deepest water she had ever known was only the warm water filling her bathtub—a life sheltered and comfortable.

Yet, why did she feel as if she knew it? The deep, dark water that sunlight could not penetrate, the moment of sinking below it. The weight of the water pressing down on her body, suffocating her, preventing her from even breathing.

What had she been thinking when she closed her eyes that time?

Had she resented him for never returning?

“Save me… The water, the ocean…”

“Juliet!”

The desperate voice calling her name fell down from above her head. Almost at the same time, Cassio reached out and grabbed Juliet’s cheek.

The grip that lifted her chin was more forceful than ever. His firm fingers pressed her cheek, forcing her mouth open. Yet no air passed through her lips. It felt as if her throat was completely blocked, as though she were underwater, suffocating.

Or perhaps, as though she were dying, sinking into the deep ocean.

“Breathe, please.”

“…”

“Please, Juliet…”

Even as Cassio whispered with such urgency, Juliet couldn’t breathe.

It felt as if she had forgotten how to swallow or exhale. She felt like a corpse, long dead. The unfounded anxiety dragged her all the way to the bottom.

Perhaps the scene of Cassio anxiously holding onto Juliet and worrying for her was nothing more than a hallucination, a vision that comes before death.

After all, he had never returned to the Sardinian lands. Her body was already sinking, dying beneath the ocean, which is why she couldn’t breathe.

“…!”

But the sensation of his lips against hers was too real to be a dream.

It was a hurried kiss, lacking sweetness or romance, merely a desperate attempt to save someone who could no longer breathe. Cassio’s breath filled her throat.

Once, twice, and the breath she had swallowed forced its way into her chest. Again and again, five times, six times, seven times…

“Ugh.”

Finally, her breath returned. Cassio, having quickly realized her condition, pulled his lips away from hers.

“Ha, ah…”

But as soon as Juliet exhaled, their lips met again. This time, it wasn’t just his breath entering her mouth.

The rough force that had pried her mouth open had vanished, and what remained was the delicate touch of Cassio Bellanea, as if he were handling fragile glass.

His hand caressed her cheek, and the sensation of his lips exploring her mouth was careful, almost reverent. That tenderness made Juliet realize—he was here, by her side, with her…

He had returned and was staying by her side.

“…Juliet.”

A wave of relief flooded through her. Juliet’s body, which had been stiff, relaxed. She felt the firm embrace of his arms around her, pulling her close, even as her consciousness began to fade.

Ah, yes.

He had said his injury was fully healed.

After hiding his pain for a long time, he had finally collapsed from the fever and began treatment. It hadn’t been long before he was fully recovered. Juliet’s body could easily be lifted by him now.

But something felt strange about this. Originally, he…

He never should have been injured.

Unaware of the thoughts running through her mind, Juliet had no time to dwell on them. The realization quickly scattered, and she slipped into a deep sleep.

＊ ＊ ＊

Late at night. Cassio, holding Juliet, who had fainted, crossed her bedroom.

The room was stark and empty. It lacked any trace of its occupant. The furniture was all in place, but it felt like nothing more than an empty room. The air was dry, as though the space had long been abandoned, with no dust to disturb its stillness.

A crumpled bedspread and a dried bouquet on the nearby bedside table were the only remnants of him. Cassio glanced at them briefly before gently placing Juliet’s limp body on the bed.

He sat cautiously next to her and let out a long sigh.

“Juliet, you too…”

But the words he tried to speak never reached their end. Knowing that Juliet would never hear the answer, Cassio could not bring himself to finish the question.

He simply thought.

Did you remember everything, too?

Or perhaps, did you dream the same dream I had? A dream of past times, memories that have already passed, yet a dream of a future yet to come.

A vision as distant as the divine revelation that fell from above. Now, those days that no longer exist—did you realize them too?

If so, Juliet, why is it that even in your half-conscious state, you still search for me in your dreams?

Surely, Cassio Bellanea must be someone you could never want to see.