There Is No Paradise Where I Ran Away To (14 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 12
Edwin grabbed a servant on his way to his room and ordered him to bring Charlotte to his room in thirty minutes. Afterward, he took a light bath and changed his clothes. Charlotte arrived just as he was adjusting his cuffs in front of the mirror, and the disgruntled girl sat down without even glancing in his direction.
Staring at Charlotte’s stiff reflection in the mirror, he let out a quiet, mocking laugh. Once he had finished with his cuffs, Edwin turned to face her sullen expression.
“Care for some tea?”
She responded only by turning her head away. Unbothered by her stubbornness, Edwin instructed a servant to bring a cup of coffee—his voice clear and even, his smile flawless and serene.
“So you called me because of a marriage that includes none of my opinion, and you’re certainly not the one who’d apologize for not taking me to the royal event.”
“You’re the one who said you couldn’t handle Mother.”
Charlotte’s lips pressed tightly shut, wounded and resentful. The freckled skin around her eyes reddened, on the verge of tears at the slightest provocation—yet Edwin remained silent, watching her as if she were a painting framed on the wall.
“And I’ve decided to ask your opinion about this marriage. Didn’t I tell you I invited him to Rodinia?”
“That’s not what I meant at all! I—I just don’t want to get married! That’s what I truly feel. I’m not ready yet, so why must you, Your Grace…?”
Overcome with emotion, Charlotte’s voice trembled. Afraid her un-ladylike behavior would count against her, she bit her lip hard, holding back her tears. Even in this moment—when her feelings were being so cruelly dismissed—she still desperately wanted to appear composed in his eyes.
“So what do you propose?”
But holding back tears was beyond Charlotte’s ability. She finally dropped her head and let them fall freely.
“That we stay unmarried and keep living together like this?”
Charlotte looked up abruptly, her eyes filled with naive hope.
“I’m not your husband. Which means I have no obligation to support you once you’ve come of age.”
She knew.
If she refused to marry, the Duke of Beitnes would hand her the modest inheritance left by Baron Beitnes and send her away from the mansion. And even that small inheritance might not be granted, if Baroness Beitnes refused to allow it.
And then what?
A penniless woman with no parents, no guardian, and no husband had no proper place in society. Wasn’t the perfect example standing right beside her?
Vivian Ebelline.
Even after moving to Newway and receiving noble treatment, once she was left alone, Vivian became prey to all the beasts of Newway.
Would she fare any better?
She’d likely suffer an even worse fate than Vivian. The world certainly wouldn’t treat someone even less significant than Vivian with any kindness.
“When your guardian offers you marriage to Newway’s finest man—when he promises a dowry and a respectable union—that’s when you say yes. Not later. Charlotte.”
He planted a seed of unease: as long as she held the weapon of being the Duke of Beitnes’s prospective bride, she remained the most eligible woman on the marriage market—but that advantage could vanish at any moment.
“You now owe me for defying Mother’s opposition and naming you my ward, as per Father’s final wish.”
“Your Grace, I—I… I really…”
She couldn’t bring herself to say it: that she couldn’t marry another man while her heart belonged to someone else—that her feelings ran so deep, she couldn’t even see other men.
But the words stuck in her throat.
The reason she couldn’t reveal her true feelings was simple: to Edwin Beitnes, Charlotte Windler was not a woman. Any confession now would be nothing but childish infatuation in Edwin’s eyes.
“And Charlotte.”
Just then, a servant arrived with coffee, momentarily lifting the heavy atmosphere between them. Embarrassed to show her tear-streaked face, Charlotte roughly wiped her cheeks and sniffled loudly. Once the servant departed, the oppressive silence settled over them again.
“I dislike it when anyone touches my belongings without permission.”
Edwin’s voice had never sounded so low. His face, now cold as frost, sent a shiver down her spine.
He wasn’t affectionate, but he’d never been indifferent—until now. She tried to recall what might have angered him so deeply, yet found no adequate cause. It wasn’t just her stubbornness or curt tone—this chill was far beyond that.
“And that includes you—no exceptions.”
He slowly rose from his seat and walked toward somewhere. Charlotte didn’t follow. She couldn’t muster the courage to face his cold expression again.
“You offered to embroider this scarf?”
The approaching footsteps halted beside her, making her shoulders flinch. She looked up to see what he held out before her—and it was Vivian Ebelline’s scarf.
“Embroider it and bring it back.”
This was the very scarf Edwin had carried everywhere during his absence from the mansion—the one that disappeared from Vivian’s neck late at night—the one he’d claimed he’d embroider to test Vivian’s sincerity.
“Never touch my belongings again, Charlotte. This isn’t advice. This is…”
She numbly accepted the scarf—now transformed from Vivian’s to Edwin’s.
“A warning.”
[This is the timeline separator]Spring deepened steadily into the threshold of summer. On the road leading to Rodinia’s ducal residence, sunlight filtered through translucent, fresh leaves, brightening the long journey. Gideon halted his horse and took a deep breath, savoring the green-scented air.
“I’ve heard Rodinia’s garden is so stunning, it’s as if every flower in Newway was gathered and planted there. Could that really be true?”
Beside him, James Zimmermann scowled and raised a hand to shield his eyes. He was so worried the intense sun would make his hair fall out completely that he couldn’t understand how Gideon, seconds from being roasted alive by his blissful communion with nature, could so obliviously leave his cousin behind.
“Are flowers really that important? I’m roasting! We’re going to be cooked alive! My flesh will end up as meat on someone’s dinner table! So let’s not stop—just ride faster! If I gave up the carriage, at least let me gallop! If we’re on horses, let the horses gallop!”
“Cousin, let’s not live so harshly.”
Ugh. James shook his head in exasperation and, unable to bear it any longer, spurred his horse ahead of Gideon. Only then did Gideon finally pick up speed and chase after him, grumbling all the while that James should’ve done this from the start.
“Besides, that rumor about the mansion originates from when Lawrence Ebelline owned it. Ever since Lawrence died, the garden’s reputation has long hit rock bottom. Who knows how the Duke maintains it now.”
“Lawrence Eelline is dead?”
Gideon distinctly recalled hearing that Lawrence had founded a gold mining company, only for the discovered gold vein to be exposed as a fraud—leaving him branded a swindler before vanishing without a trace. Dead?
For someone who prided himself on never being behind on information, Gideon almost heard the sound of a crack forming in his pride.
“Or maybe he’s dead?”
Thankfully, James cast doubt on the information, allowing Gideon’s bruised ego to mend slightly.
“If creditors had captured him, would they have fed and sheltered him all this time? They’d have worked him to death. And if he were alive, he wouldn’t stay hidden.”
“…But his daughter is still alive. Maybe that’s why he’s hiding?”
“Exactly—it proves he’s dead. Think about it. Say his daughter is alive, as you claim. Then why would creditors leave his daughter unharmed? Doesn’t that seem odd? It means they’ve already squeezed everything they could from Lawrence and washed their hands of him.”
The House of Ebelline had once been Preston’s sun—a single ray of light piercing storm clouds. They were once seen as heaven’s will itself. How had they fallen so far?
Facing such an ending made the beautiful world seem like a complete illusion.
Nothing lasts forever.
Anyone who witnessed the deep-rooted House of Ebelline collapse like this would surely agree.
“By the way, didn’t the Duke of Beitnes take in Ebelline’s only daughter at his mansion?”
After acquiring the mansion at auction, people began referring to the Duke of Beitnes and Ebelline’s only daughter like this:
That Vivian Ebelline was saved upon meeting the Duke of Beitnes. That the poor, homeless Ebelline girl was taken in, fed, and sheltered—and that this kindness was as vast as the heavens.
“Exactly. I wouldn’t have found it easy myself. He truly is someone worth learning from. Just look at how he offered his villa to flood refugees recently. Such a warm-hearted, compassionate man—he probably couldn’t bring himself to turn away Ebelline.”
It would’ve been strange for any citizen of Newway not to hold the Duke of Beitnes in high regard. Gideon was no exception—he belonged among those who sang the Duke’s praises.
From the days when he was a minor noble bowing low for every coin to the present, the Duke of Beitnes had inspired him through every moment of his life. When he first received a letter from the Duke, he couldn’t sleep for a week, unable to believe it.
“Gideon, listen well. In a wife, money matters more than beauty—money. In this world, even the most stunning woman is plain without wealth, and even the plainest becomes beautiful with riches. Therefore, you must absolutely make this marriage happen.”
The terms the Duke proposed when offering Gideon his ward’s hand in marriage were extraordinary:
An enormous dowry from the ward, investment capital to expand the Zimmermann carriage business, and even a joint development project with Beitnes Arms. Missing this marriage would draw so much public scorn it would be unbearable.
“Money isn’t everything, James.”
Though the Duke of Beitnes had profoundly shaped his life, he hadn’t altered Gideon’s core values about building a family.
He’d raced breathlessly to reach this point. He had worked his whole life, and that wouldn’t change in the future. Thus, he hoped his future home would be filled only with people he loved—people with whom he could finally rest his weary heart.
[This is the timeline separator]Walking through the lively garden, the vitality of nature took root deep within her chest. Even if the world collapsed, there was still room to appreciate the sweet fragrance of a single flower. It was the seemingly useless, futile things that gave life meaning in a broken world.
“Whenever you come into the garden, Miss, your expression brightens a hundredfold—you look like you’re glowing from within, even more radiant than usual. Honestly, you become far more beautiful than normal.”
“Thank you. For saying that.”
Vivian blushed shyly and bent down toward a flowering shrub, hiding her flushed cheeks by inhaling the blossom’s fragrance.
“By the way, about the guests arriving today—what time do you think they’ll get here? Oh dear, I’m really worried about Miss Windler.”
Sophie, crouching beside her, pursed her lips anxiously. Vivian’s expression wasn’t much different from Sophie’s.
She’d heard from Sophie about Charlotte being deeply upset.
Having passed her nineteenth birthday, Charlotte was now being gently—but firmly—urged by Edwin into marriage.
Though it wasn’t her place to interfere, from piecing together what she knew, Vivian was certain Charlotte bore a clear duty to marry. And having endured everything herself to reach this point, Vivian firmly believed this marriage would benefit Charlotte.
“But why won’t Miss Windler agree to marry?”
“Exactly! She just keeps saying no without reason—His Grace must be incredibly frustrated. I’m getting worked up just thinking about it!”
Vivian sighed deeply and gently brushed a fully bloomed petal, feeling equally frustrated.
If Miss Windler marries, she’ll leave the mansion, won’t she? Then it’ll just be the Duke and me—alone?
The thought unsettled her. Though they rarely crossed paths in the mansion, mealtimes were the one guaranteed meeting—and she remembered the moment recently when Charlotte left the table early, leaving her alone with Edwin.
Vivian abruptly stood up and walked through the garden, weighed down by deep thoughts. Worrying about a future that hadn’t even arrived was useless—but anxiety made her fixate on such futility.
Just then, the distant sound of hoofbeats drew closer. Turning her gaze, she saw two men on horseback, wide-eyed as they took in the garden. Instinctively, she knew they were Edwin and Charlotte’s guests.
The visitors to the ducal residence arrived with surprising simplicity—unlike typical suitors who tried to win favor with ostentatious carriages, entourages of servants, and lavish gifts.
The contrast between the meticulously groomed man and the one whose buttons seemed liberated hinted at which was Charlotte’s suitor. When her eyes met the sharper-looking man’s, Vivian offered a light greeting. He returned it with a small, polite smile. Having briefly encountered the guests, Vivian promptly returned to her room.
As an outsider in the mansion, it was both considerate and proper to quietly disappear whenever official guests arrived. The thought of spending just ten days quietly confined to her room felt surprisingly light.
It helped that she wouldn’t have to face the Duke of Beitnes—until an unexpected knock suddenly echoed at her door.
“Oh? Who could that be at this hour?”
Curious, Vivian gestured for Sophie to open the door. Sophie hurried over and swung it open. Beyond her stood another servant, who addressed Vivian directly.
“A visitor has come to see you, Miss.”
The servant’s unexpected words left Vivian stunned once again.
“A visitor? I don’t have anyone coming to see me. You must be confusing me with Miss Windler.”
Surely it was just a small misunderstanding—a simple mistake.
“No, that’s not it. A gentleman named Theo Evans is asking for you.”
Though she’d assumed that, the name ringing through the air and striking her eardrums froze Vivian’s thoughts completely.
“T-Theo?”
Strangely, the ducal residence was unusually busy with visitors today—and that fact planted a quiet unease deep within Vivian’s heart.
Male lead fell into her trap — and shattered when she walked away
This is also on my reread list!
This one is a slow burn, but when it burns, it burns hard.
Definitely worth a read, y’all!
The story follows a thousand-year-old seductive spirit who, on a bet, sets out to charm the male lead—a once-promising but unfortunate cultivator.
But just when she succeeds in making him fall for her, she heartlessly leaves, driving him to madness.
Determined to find her at all costs, he captures her, keeping her by his side no matter what, even if she hates him.
I love this kind of trope—I enjoy watching the male lead suffer in agony.
The ending drags a bit with unnecessary filler, but that’s fine.
As long as I enjoy the beginning, I’m good.
Intro
As an enchantress, Su Heng possesses captivating eyes and charming beauty, easily manipulating the joys and sorrows of living beings at her fingertips.
But to enchant a god, making him taste the bitterness of love’s separation, long-lasting resentment, unattainable desires, and inability to let go…
Do you dare?
Su Heng assists a divine lord in his cultivation, aiming to make him experience all the sufferings of love, so that he can attain the Great Dao.
Only after being chased down from the heavens by the divine lord, confined and completely possessed by him, does she realize how successful she has been.
The once gentle and polite youth has transformed into someone she no longer recognizes.
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
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