You Are Gentle, But You Don’t Love Me - Chapter 55

The early summer dawn had yet to bring its heat. Despite the dampness rising from the ground, his hands were dry—cold and parched.

As if he were tense.

As if he were afraid.

And yet, they were still the same gentle hands. Hands that never once hurt her.

Juliet knew—those hands had led her into a wider world.

“Your Grace.”

This time, Juliet was the one to hold him tightly, as if she would never let go. His hand trembled within hers. Or perhaps it was her own hand that was shaking.

But that was only natural.

All love carries fear.

It would be a lie to say she wasn’t afraid. A lie to say she wasn’t terrified.

But he wasn’t letting go of her hand.

Even as he trembled, even as his touch was chilled, he still held her gently.

So perhaps, just perhaps, this kind and gentle man—

Might love her.

And as for her—

“I love you.”

The words slipped from her lips in a soft whisper.

As light as the wind, as delicate as scattered sunlight.

The small confession tumbled down onto his bowed head.

“I love you… so much.”

Had it not been the same for Cassio?

His head snapped up in an instant, his eyes round with shock as if he had been struck by something immense.

Juliet was startled in turn. She had never seen him look so surprised.

Then, slowly, his gaze softened.

“Ah, Juliet.”

Hadn’t he said he laughed because he was happy?

Even if that had been a lie, she would have had no choice but to believe him.

Because the joy on his face was pure—radiant, like the early morning sun.

＊ ＊ ＊

“But really, why did you avoid me all this time?”

“I told you—I didn’t.”

Fallen leaves, dried under the sun, crunched beneath their steps. A faint tart scent drifted in the air, and it felt as though it was coming from her own heart. Sunlight streamed through the branches above, casting bright streaks of white like scattered joy.

It was a brilliant, beautiful morning.

As they walked side by side, their hands remained intertwined, as though they had never been apart.

Their light steps carried them around the garden, leading them back toward the castle.

“Liar.”

“Juliet, you really don’t believe a word I say, do you?”

“I do. I believe you, but…”

Her voice was light, lifted by the joy bubbling within her. Uncharacteristically talkative, she even went so far as to pout openly.

Cassio burst into laughter once again.

Compared to Juliet, who was practically floating with excitement, he seemed much the same as always.

His steps matched her naturally slow pace, adjusting to her rhythm. Whenever she stumbled in her eagerness, his hand caught hers, steadying her with a smile.

Everything about him was the same as ever—

And somehow, that made her heart race even more.

“Aha! Oh, Juliet.”

Yet she could tell—he was excited, too.

Because he kept laughing.

Louder and more often than usual.

Whenever he laughed like that, Juliet’s pout would vanish, replaced by a deepening blush.

Not out of embarrassment.

But because she was overwhelmed by the sheer joy of knowing that she was the reason he was so happy.

“You really did avoid me…”

Yet she couldn’t bring herself to say it outright.

So instead, she pressed him again.

“Why did you do it?”

“Well…”

Cassio hesitated, as he had several times before.

If he had simply given her any excuse—any halfhearted reason—she might have let it go.

But this was the third time she had asked, and still, all he did was smile.

And that, more than anything, made her stubborn.

Even if he gave her a completely absurd explanation, she could probably accept it. But the fact that he wouldn’t say anything at all—

That was what made her dig in her heels.

Chirp, chirp.

The morning birds called from the branches above.

At last, Cassio spoke, his voice slow, matching their unhurried steps.

“Juliet, I was afraid… that you—”

“Yes, I—”

“That you might hate me.”

His voice was calm.

As if he were stating something as simple and natural as the rising sun.

“I thought you might not want to see me anymore… that you might run away from me.”

“…….”

“That’s why.”

It was an utterly strange thing to hear.

Especially because Cassio was still smiling so gently.

How could anyone hate someone like him?

How could anyone dislike someone so kind?

He was someone who had likely never known hatred.

A man who had lived his entire life bathed in light, surrounded by admiration and adoration.

Cassio Bellanea was that kind of man.

And yet, he was smiling—saying, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, that he had feared she might hate him.

“Why would you ever think that?”

“Hmm.”

She couldn’t understand, so she asked again. But once more, Cassio’s answer was vague.

“It just… felt like you would.”

Yet, the way he added those words—almost like a sigh—carried a strange certainty.

Juliet still couldn’t make sense of it.

Where, exactly, was the reason for her to hate him? What had he done that could possibly make her dislike him?

Cassio had always been kind to her. He had always treated her with care. There was no reason for Juliet to hate him.

And yet, why did he think that? Why did he say it so naturally, as if it were inevitable?

Had something happened…?

Somewhere, in the gaps of a night she couldn’t remember.

Now that she thought about it, it wasn’t just last night that her memory was hazy. Even further back, on that dreamlike night filled with the scent of lavender and cypress, her recollection was just as unclear.

Juliet still didn’t know why she had gone there that night. She couldn’t remember what she and Cassio had talked about as they wandered through the courtyard.

Had she said something to him that night?

Or had Cassio said something to her?

But what could we have possibly talked about…?

Juliet strained to recall anything, to piece together even the faintest fragments.

But still, the memory remained shrouded in mist.

“Ah!”

“Oh dear.”

Lost in thought, Juliet miss stepped on a tangled tree root and stumbled.

Cassio caught her effortlessly, steadying her as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Then, in a playful whisper, he teased her.

“Juliet, are you that lost in thought?”

She instinctively widened her eyes and looked up—only to quickly lower her gaze again.

His face was closer than she had expected.

His breath brushed her forehead as he let out a small chuckle.

“It’s nothing…”

“Hmm. It seems like something.”

His voice, falling straight from above, was just as gentle as always.

If she stripped away the laughter from his voice, if she soaked it in uncertainty, guilt, sorrow, and anguish—twisting it as if it were breaking—

— I’ll figure something out. I’ll do anything. Just… don’t leave me. Not this time.

— Don’t die…

It would sound just like that.

Why…?

“Ahh!”

But Cassio gave her no time to dwell on it.

“Put me down! Put me down this instant!”

“Haha.”

“Your Grace!”

Without warning, he scooped her up and began walking.

Reflexively, Juliet clung to his neck.

Not that she needed to—Cassio’s arms would never let her fall.

“Eek!”

He moved with such ease, as if tossing and catching himself midair.

Juliet shut her eyes tightly, holding onto him for dear life.

“Don’t think too much. I must have said something unnecessary.”

His voice was still as gentle and soft as ever.

So much so that it erased the desperate plea that had just lingered at her ears.

His laughter vibrated faintly against her skin, rumbling from deep in his chest.

And yet—strangely, painfully—her heart ached.

Deep inside, somewhere near her heart, there was a sharp tugging sensation.

The tremor in his body—was it truly laughter?

Or was it closer to the quiet shaking of someone holding back tears?

Was this the lingering trace of a dream she had long forgotten?

Or was it the remnant of a night she could not remember at all?

“By any chance…”

“I don’t think you can ask that anymore.”

She had been about to ask—

What happened that night?

Or—

What happened last night?

But Cassio cut her off with a playful smile.

“Because my Juliet has already told me.”

“……”

“You said, I love you very much.”

This was already the third or fourth time Cassio had repeated those words.

Each time, he said them with a teasing glint in his eyes, as if he was having far too much fun with it.

And then—

“Or did I just hear what I wanted to hear?”

“……”

“If that’s the case, say it again. This time, I promise not to misunderstand.”

“You…!”

He was teasing her again.

And subtly—so very subtly—he was coaxing her.

Say it again.

Tell me that Juliet Calliari loves Cassio Bellanea.

And of course, Juliet could do nothing but blush furiously and lower her head.

“Hmm? Juliet?”

But then—

When Cassio pressed a soft kiss to her forehead—

When he carefully pulled her closer into his arms—

No—

Even just the warmth of his shoulder brushing against hers, healed now without a trace of his old wound—

“…I love you.”

“…….”

“I love you very much…”

The words slipped out as if she were enchanted.

In the end, Juliet completely forgot what she had meant to ask.

And so, nestled in his embrace, she was carried back to the castle.