You Are Gentle, But You Don’t Love Me - Chapter 60

Flowers carry their richest fragrance just before they wither, and fruits taste their sweetest just before they soften. So it was with the seasons. Once summer ripened to its peak, autumn arrived in an instant.

The final celebration in praise of the season of blessings was always held at the height of summer—lavish and grand.

This three-day celebration held special meaning for the people of Sardinia—not just for the nobles, but for the citizens of each estate as well. During this time, food and resources were distributed to help them through the coming autumn and winter, and the luxurious food and drink leftover from the nobles’ feasts were shared generously.

In this way, all of Sardinia indulged in the waning blessings of summer for three days and nights.

“…Yes, that’s right.”

Juliet had decided to host that celebration—for Cassio. She had never hosted a ball before, nor did she particularly like them. And yet, she did it for him.

Because…

“I heard you never had a proper victory banquet.”

Cassio Bellanea was, without a doubt, the most renowned war hero of the moment. On the mainland of Aragon, it was said that even the housewives and beggars in the streets knew his name.

The only reason he could enjoy peace now was because he was in Sardinia. Had he been on the mainland, he would have been endlessly occupied, meeting people who sought him out each day without fail.

“There might have been a banquet thrown for him every other night… if he were still staying at the capital.”

In truth, that would have been expected.

He had vanquished countless pirates and paved the way for Aragon’s name to spread across greater seas. He had led from the front lines, taking up arms and fighting alongside his soldiers.

And yet, Cassio had never once attended a proper victory banquet. Many had been held, yes—but he himself had never stood at the center of one.

“Elijah… I should’ve shut his mouth sooner.”

“I was the one who asked.”

“Still, you didn’t need to know something so trivial.”

At those words, Juliet’s gaze briefly landed on his shoulder—then quickly fell away, pretending not to have seen.

It was because of the bullet wound that had once pierced it. The wound that tore through flesh and shattered bone. The ever-present fear that, though the danger had passed for now, death might still one day claim him again.

Despite having endured all that and becoming the most celebrated hero of his time, Cassio Bellanea had never received the proper praise—or blessing—that he truly deserved.

And so, Juliet wanted to give him all of it. Even if belatedly.

“I was happy.”

When she turned to look at him, there was no trace of injury left on his face. No shadow of death. Only the expression of someone firmly planted in life—radiant with vitality, gleaming like sunlight.

“Because it gave me the chance to hold a celebration for you.”

Perhaps Cassio didn’t need such a blessing from Juliet. At least, she had thought so until now. But even if that were the case, she still wanted to do it. She wanted to say thank you for coming back safely—to say she was happy. To tell him that, on the most radiant day of the season of blessings.

She wanted to say it: I love you. That Juliet Calliari loved Cassio Bellanea.

That was what had started it all—the thought behind the celebration.

“I wanted you to be congratulated. To be joyful. Because you, more than anyone, deserve to be blessed.”

But in the time since, so many things had happened—unexpected things.

She had reconciled with Rosaline, then suddenly collapsed from a fever. At one point, Juliet had avoided Cassio, and then it seemed he was avoiding her. In between, she had spoken with Romeo about the past.

And in the end, she had confessed to him—despite all the careful planning, it had come out in the most absurd way.

Looking back on it, not a single thing that summer had gone according to plan.

“When did it all start going wrong…?”

When had everything begun to fall apart? Was it the day she realized she loved him? Or the day he collapsed before her eyes? Or maybe the moment she started to believe he might love her back?

“I feel the same.”

“…”

“I want the same for you, Juliet. I want you to be happy. I want you to be joyful. Because you, more than anyone, deserve it.”

Hearing Cassio’s voice wash over her like the tide, she understood it clearly:

Everything had been wrong from the start.

From the very beginning—on the day he returned.

That day, Juliet had treated him like a guest who would stay briefly and leave again. She’d told herself it didn’t matter if he never came back.

She had only prayed for his journey to be peaceful. Only so her summer could be peaceful.

Her plans had been doomed from that moment on.

“Goodbye, Juliet.”

That one farewell had been enough to shatter everything. And she hadn’t even realized it.

It was all because of him. The man who arrived like the early summer sun and soaked her like a sudden rainstorm. The one who was endlessly gentle, at least to Juliet. Cassio Bellanea of Escalus.

“On the sunniest day, when the air is sweetest, on the brightest day of summer… I wanted you to be able to laugh in a place you love, with the people you love.”

“…”

He always overturned her plans, broke them, and shook her to her core. Just like her heart.

It was a summer utterly wrecked.

And so, it was the happiest summer of her life.

“Because I thought… that way, even after this summer ends, you’d remember that day—and smile.”

Now, she found herself regretting that summer was beginning to wind down.

“…Thank you.”

Her throat tightened, and Juliet spoke in a voice so soft and slow it barely qualified as speech—short and fragile, as though she had pushed the words out with great effort. And yet, Cassio simply smiled, full of joy, and took her hand in his.

Juliet and Cassio stood for a long time, side by side, gazing out at the sea. It wasn’t until the sun had begun to sink, bathing the sky in red, that they finally returned to Escalus Castle.

＊ ＊ ＊

The grandest banquet hall in Escalus Castle was opened.

The banquet table was filled with dishes made from the day’s hunt. The large stag and wild boar that Cassio had caught alone would have been more than enough, yet more than a dozen birds of all sizes had been added to the feast.

As a result, the table overflowed with abundance.

Perhaps due to exhaustion from the daytime hunt, nearly half of the guests staying at the castle didn’t attend the banquet. But the remaining half sat at the table with bright, eager faces.

Rosaline was among them.

“Romeo, I want that—some of the venison.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course I am!”

At last, she had reconciled with Romeo.

Perhaps that was why her appetite had suddenly returned. After descending to the banquet hall, she now barked orders at Romeo, even with several attendants behind her ready to serve.

“Are you really okay?”

“Mm, it’s delicious. You should try it too. The venison.”

“All right, all right. I’ll help myself, so slow down a bit. Here’s some water.”

“Thanks.”

“What do you want to try next?”

Of course, Romeo was more than happy to serve her. He hadn’t even touched his own meal—just watching Rosaline eat seemed enough to satisfy him.

And there was someone else doing the same.

“Juliet, is it good?”

“Yes…”

“I’m glad. Please, have a little more.”

“…Okay.”

Cassio wasn’t exactly doting on Juliet like Romeo was. But he, too, had barely touched his own food, simply watching her eat with a warm smile, no different from Romeo.

I think I’m going to get indigestion…

Juliet couldn’t help but think so. Cassio was smiling at her so sweetly, his eyes never leaving her face. She had nearly forgotten that ticklish gaze—how it felt to share a meal with him—after so long apart.

Even so, she didn’t stop moving her fork. In fact, she ended up eating much more than usual. As she always did when eating with Cassio.

“Ahh, that was so good!”

By the time everyone set down their forks, Juliet felt completely full. Perhaps all the bland food she had eaten while cooped up in her room had left her with a craving. Rosaline, who had focused intensely on her meal as if making up for lost time, finally scooted close to Juliet.

“Juli, Juli.”

“Rosa. I told you not to call me that in front of other people.”

“You heard her, Marchioness of Arborea.”

“Tch…”

Rosaline pouted on purpose, then cast her gaze sideways. Her bright blue eyes rolled from Juliet to Cassio, then back to Juliet again.

Then, without warning, she turned her question directly to Cassio.

“Your Grace, the Duke of Escalus.”

“Yes, Marchioness of Arborea?”

“Did you tell her?”

The tone was oddly sharp. Though the meaning behind her words was veiled—something only the two of them seemed to understand—the tension in her voice was so apparent that both Juliet and Romeo instinctively glanced at Cassio to gauge his reaction.

“…Thank you.”

But Cassio only smiled pleasantly and took a dessert plate from a servant’s hand, as if he hadn’t heard her pointed question at all.

“…Did he just ignore me?”

“Rosie, no—it’s not like that.”

Juliet gently took Rosaline’s hand to keep her from leaping to her feet in protest. At that moment, a servant placed dessert in front of them.

Today’s dessert was sherbet topped with summer peaches and sugared lemon slices. Cassio poured syrup generously over his and scooped up a spoonful. The silver spoon disappeared into his mouth, and a look of sparkling delight spread across his face.

Only then did he speak again—his tone cool and detached, in stark contrast to the satisfaction still lingering on his face.

“Don’t worry. I’ll tell her soon.”