You Are Gentle, But You Don’t Love Me - Chapter 8

Juliet thought to herself, entirely forgetting how she had earlier likened him to a boy with cream smeared on his lips.
Well, in truth, he had always been an adult—not just in age but in every sense.

“Be careful.”

The caution in his touch as he steadied her arm when she stumbled over a broken branch spoke volumes.

His escorting was effortless, natural, and perfectly measured. Cassio never crossed the line, never allowed himself to get too close to Juliet.

What could he be thinking?

“What are you thinking about, staring at me like that?” she asked.

“…I wasn’t.”

“Sure looked like you were.”

“…”

Compared to him, how childish she must seem.
Before long, they neared the fountain. The moon reflected on the rippling water, distorting and regaining its form repeatedly. Instead of continuing to walk, Juliet stopped beside the fountain.

Before Cassio could intervene, her fingertips dipped into the water.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying to sober up a bit.”

Just moments ago, she thought she was fine.

But her flushed cheeks and the way the ground seemed to sway beneath her told a different story.

I must be drunk.

As the lingering haze of intoxication crept in, she swirled her fingers in the water, causing droplets to splash onto her sleeves. Ignoring the mess, she let her hand sink deeper—fingers, then palm, then the back of her hand. She stopped just before her wrist submerged.

“Your clothes will get wet,” Cassio said as he grabbed her wrist.

Her hand, which had been stirring the tepid water, was suddenly pulled into the air. Cassio rummaged through his pocket, frowning slightly when he couldn’t find a handkerchief. Without hesitation, he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt.

“Wait, that’s not necessary…” Juliet started.

But he was already using his shirt sleeve to dry her hand.

“It’s fine. All done.”

Cassio smiled brightly. His shirt, made of fine linen suited to the season, was too delicate to fully absorb the moisture from her hand.

Juliet glanced at the damp cuff clinging to his wrist, then at her still-glistening palm. With a sigh, she muttered to herself, That was unnecessary. Both her action and his.

“Don’t worry about it. At least I got to hold your hand,” he quipped.

“…”

“Haha, just pretend you didn’t hear that.”

“Sure.”

“Let’s keep walking.”

Their silent stroll resumed.

Cassio’s relaxed footsteps followed behind her as she led the way. The moonlight glinted off her swinging hand, cool and serene.

After a few more minutes of quiet walking, their destination came into view.

Underneath the gazebo, familiar white marble columns gleamed an unfamiliar blue in the night light.

Swoosh…

The grove of silver poplars swayed in the night breeze, their rustling reminiscent of ocean waves. Beneath the lofty clouds drifting across the sky, blue moonlight and soft shadows alternated, shifting like the tide.

The night was like the sea.

“Do you feel a bit more sober now?”

Cassio’s face, bathed in that same blue light, looked almost foreign as he gazed down at her.

“Yes, I’m fine now.”

Another stretch of silence. Then Cassio, as if following her lead, leaned against the rail beside her. Their shoulders brushed lightly.

For someone as familiar with the sea as he was, perhaps the night didn’t feel strange to him at all.

“You wanted to talk about the invitation, didn’t you?” Juliet asked, her voice slightly awkward, a touch hurried. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt oddly embarrassed.

“Yes,” Cassio replied, nodding easily. Whether he was pretending not to notice her unease or genuinely unaware, she couldn’t tell.

“You passed it on to me, didn’t you?”

Letters sent to Escalus Castle first passed through the hands of the stewards, then the chief steward, before being delivered to Juliet. She would then sort through them, deciding which to handle herself and which to pass on to the duke.

If there had been other family members, she would’ve had to manage their correspondence as well. But as it stood, she only ever had to decide between two categories: letters for herself and letters for the duke.

“Yes,” she admitted softly.

Until now, there hadn’t been any letters for Cassio. But yesterday, for the first time, Juliet had left a sealed envelope for him.

Inside the elegant envelope was an invitation subtly scented with roses. The sender was the Countess of Rogudoro, addressed to the Duke and Duchess of Escalus.

You are cordially invited to the first soirée of summer.
The invitation was succinct, devoid of flowery greetings or lengthy preambles, sticking solely to the point.

On the back, however, a brief postscript was written in a different hand:
Please do come, Colonel. My mother is greatly looking forward to it.

There was only one person in all of Rogudoro—or perhaps all of Sardinia—who would address Cassio as “Colonel.” It was none other than the youngest son of Rogudoro, who had served as Cassio’s lieutenant during their campaign.

That the young man, despite his age, had been appointed as Cassio’s lieutenant owed much to political maneuvering. Yet it seemed the two had grown genuinely close over time.
“Come without fail,” he says.

It was an unusually familiar invitation.
Still, it’s not a bad thing.

In fact, it was fortuitous—perfect timing, with just the right pretext.

The lingering triumph of victory still hung in the air. An invitation from a subordinate who had stood alongside Cassio on the battlefield held undeniable weight.

Furthermore, the first summer soirée at Rogudoro was a must-attend for Sardinia’s high nobility. For the Duke and Duchess of Escalus, who had yet to make a public appearance, it was the ideal debut.

If the invitation had been addressed solely to Juliet, there would’ve been no need to consider such things.

“I didn’t expect him to issue the invitation first,” Cassio remarked.

After all, he wasn’t just a noble of Sardinia—he was a member of the Aragonese royal family.

Sardinia was small, and its noble families were few. In fact, the island’s four representative noble houses were so intertwined that their family trees inevitably connected at some point.

The island was a tightly woven, closed world. And Cassio was an outsider who had come from beyond that world.

After much consideration, Juliet decided to deliver the invitation to Cassio.

“I wasn’t particularly sociable when I was in the military.”
“But the Count seems to enjoy social activities.”

“They say lions don’t birth dogs, but it seems there’s an exception nearby. Even on the ship, he kept us all on edge.”
Cassio’s voice carried a hint of amusement as he spoke playfully about the son of Rogudoro. It seemed her decision wasn’t a bad one after all.

Before their marriage, when Cassio lived on the mainland of Aragon, he was known to be the life of the social scene, creating quite a stir.

“They even called him the libertine of the royal court.”
If he had been quiet all this time, it was probably only because he hadn’t had the opportunity.

…Given the chance, he’d quickly make a wide circle of friends.
And what better place to build connections than a soirée hosted by someone already familiar and trusted?

“Wouldn’t you be happy to see him after so long?” Juliet asked.
“Well… I don’t know. Rogudoro, huh…”

Setting aside the complicated reasoning behind it, one thing was clear.

In this narrow, closed world, having even one close acquaintance is a good thing.

Accepting the invitation was almost a given.

“What about you, Juliet? Do you want to go?”
So, when Cassio asked, Juliet nodded easily. Though she wasn’t entirely sincere—Juliet hated crowded places.

Still, soirées at Rogudoro were tolerable. They leaned more toward calm social gatherings than rowdy balls.

“The Countess is a good person, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Then… I’ll consider attending.”

Cassio seemed to be leaning toward a positive decision, though there was a hint of hesitation in his tone.

Perhaps he was a little nervous about returning to social activities after such a long time. His previously distant gaze seemed to shift, pausing momentarily to his side.

A strand of red hair swayed at the edge of Juliet’s vision. It felt, for some reason, like he had taken a step away.

“Shall we head back?”

Was it just her imagination?

Cassio turned and extended his hand to Juliet. The moonlight didn’t quite touch his face, leaving a faint shadow over his expression.

But his lips, curving into a soft smile, shimmered unusually bright.

“…Yes.”

Juliet pushed herself off the marble column she had been leaning against and lightly placed her hand on his arm.

The walk back felt surprisingly short.

Once inside, the night that had blanketed the garden seemed to disappear, as if it had never been there. Cassio, deep in thought, remained silent the entire way.

Even so, his escorting was flawless—Juliet ascended the stairs without missing a step.

Finally, they reached the floor where the Duke and Duchess’s chambers faced each other across the hall. Only then did their gazes meet again.

“Well, then…”

“Juliet.”

Just as Juliet was about to wish him a good night, she blinked in surprise.

It wasn’t his interruption that startled her, but the oddly serious expression on his face.

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s just…”

“Please, go ahead.”

It might be something important, she thought. Juliet pressed her lips together and waited for him to speak.

“…Did you know that, in Rogudoro, married couples share a single bedroom?”

The words felt like a small wave—gentle but swelling larger the closer it came.

“If we attend the soirée, we’ll likely stay for at least a day or two.”

“…”

“Do you think we’ll share a room?”

After dropping this line, Cassio smiled—a smile so beautiful it felt infuriating.

“Good night, Juliet. Sweet dreams.”

With that, he left her with a casual evening farewell and walked away without a trace of regret, as if nothing had happened.
“Ha…”

Juliet stared blankly at his retreating figure until he disappeared beyond the door to his chambers. Only then did she let out the breath she had been holding.

“I must be drunk.”

That had to be it.

Her lingering intoxication was why her cheeks felt so warm, why it was suddenly so hard to breathe, and why the ground beneath her feet felt so far away.

“I’m definitely drunk…”

Muttering to herself in the empty hallway, Juliet stood frozen for a moment, as if caught off guard by a sudden wave lapping at her feet—unsure of what to do next.