“I don’t know. Please stop talking about it. I’m afraid of love. Perhaps love can bring joy and sweetness, but after knowing the truth, all that’s left is pain and hurt.”
“Gianna, listen to me. The fault doesn’t lie in ‘love’ itself, but in the fact that you entrusted this precious love to someone who doesn’t know how to cherish you…”
Those dark eyes gazed at him, and he couldn’t help but gently cup her cheek in his hand. He could hear her breathing and smell the faint jasmine scent behind her ear. He longed to embrace this lovely girl and kiss her lips passionately.
He struggled to express the words he wanted to say, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to speak. What should have been a simple confession of love to a girl felt incredibly heavy at that moment.
He wasn’t concerned about who she had loved before or what emotional entanglements she was in. He wasn’t particularly troubled by the original revenge plan being entangled with this troublesome relationship. What he truly worried about was the situation; as an officer of the Empire, he shouldn’t confess his love to an Eastern girl at this moment.
Amidst the smoke of peace, a great war was imminent. The entire Empire was restless, the army waiting for the right moment, and the young soldiers were filled with passion, eager to redeem the shame of previous defeats for the Empire. He understood that love during wartime is often fleeting and cannot last, even being illusory and hopeless.
He also knew she was a girl of a different ethnicity, which was not just a matter of ideology and aesthetic preferences. The authorities’ policies toward these ethnic groups were becoming increasingly harsh, shifting from hostility to suppression and persecution, issuing decrees declaring they did not possess the status and rights of Imperial citizens. In some concentration camps in the south, where political prisoners were held, they had become factories for the expulsion and persecution of ethnic minorities, seeking a final solution… In short, there were far too many obstacles in the way, and the cost of pursuing this love was too heavy and expensive. He didn’t know if he could afford it.
In his lake-blue eyes, ripples danced. Khanyi looked at him for a moment, then lowered her head and took out the small red velvet box from her coat pocket, placing it in his palm. “This is the pair of earrings you gave me. Now I want to return it to you. Actually, I shouldn’t have accepted it back then.” She spoke with a shy yet somewhat apologetic tone. “Marcus, you’re really a good person—gentle, considerate, understanding, and sincerely kind. I feel very comfortable and warm with you, unlike him, who is always full of hypocrisy and deceit…”
He gazed at her, feeling guilty for the words he had almost blurted out. In fact, they were not a match; she didn’t even understand him, naively believing that the real him was just as she saw in her eyes. The truth was cruel; they were like two stars, forever unable to cross paths. Even if they met, it would be fleeting. He struggled to suppress his inner thoughts. “Doctor Gianna, would you like to join me for a drink?”
“But your wound…” Khanyi didn’t understand why he suddenly made this request. Was her previous refusal too harsh, hurting his feelings? Did he want to drown his sorrows in alcohol?
“Today is a very special day…”
“No, you can’t. You’re injured.” She still insisted on her opinion.
“You won’t refuse me again, will you?” He poured a shallow glass of red wine and handed it to her, then poured another glass for himself.
…
“I should be the one to apologize,” his fingers gently brushed her cheek. “Have sweet dreams, my pure and beautiful little swan.” He couldn’t bear to destroy her beautiful dream; perhaps this was the only thing he could do for her.
She felt drowsy, not knowing when she fell asleep. When she woke up, she found herself lying in the apartment bed. First, she panicked and touched her chest, realizing her clothes were intact, but he was already gone. She only remembered drinking the glass of red wine he had handed her, those lake-blue eyes gazing at her intensely, and the rest was a blur. The bedside lamp was on, casting a warm yellow light on the nightstand, where a small red velvet box lay, pressed under a neatly folded note.
She moved the box aside and unfolded the note. The dark blue handwriting was elegant, just like him. It was a short letter, but she read it carefully for a long time.
