I Became the Heroine’s Stand-in - Chapter 49

Time always seems to pass more quickly when you wish it would slow down.

The pre-wedding banquets, held to entertain the guests, had concluded successfully. Everything Diana and Ersivan had painstakingly prepared over the past few days had finally come together.

Now, in stark contrast to the lively afternoon, the tranquil dawn approached.

The warm hues of sunset had long faded, carried away by the cold evening breeze, leaving behind a deep, star-dappled night sky.

Much like the old legend that spoke of the god of the sky secretly stealing a handful of seawater to hang upon the heavens, tonight’s sky was an exceptionally deep shade of blue.

Diana rested her chin against the window frame, admiring the scenery—until a wave of nausea suddenly hit her.

A suffocating tightness gripped her chest, as though her lungs were collapsing, struggling against an invisible weight.

Her breaths grew shallow, her head pounded from lack of oxygen, and her throat convulsed with dry, choking heaves.

Her body took on the form of someone on the verge of death, gasping for air as if it were her last.

Diana leaned against the window, holding her breath, trying to regain control.

The pain gradually began to subside as time ticked by.

She swallowed, forcing down the thin thread of saliva that had gathered between her lips. Her throat burned from the repeated dry coughing.

With a deep breath, she stretched, arching her back as she slowly straightened herself.

Her golden hair cascaded smoothly behind her, fluttering in the cool night breeze, occasionally tickling the nape of her neck.

The wind grew stronger, whipping her long strands into a tangled mess. Diana instinctively turned away from the breeze, shifting her gaze back inside the room.

And there, her eyes landed on the wedding dress.

The gown, designed months ago by one of the empire’s most renowned designers, had been crafted exclusively for Lillian.

It had been meticulously tailored to match her figure, every stitch and fold designed with her in mind.

A one-of-a-kind masterpiece, never to be replicated in the past or the future.

Diana approached the dress, her fingers grazing the delicate sleeve.

“They say it’s made of the finest silk and fabric…”

The texture was softer than she imagined.

“…I’ll be wearing this tomorrow.”

Even if it doesn’t truly belong to me.

A strange tightness welled up in her chest, but the feeling was indistinct, unspoken, like a wordless sigh drifting into the autumn air.

Even to an untrained eye, the dress was undeniably breathtaking.

Even Lillian, who had never known a day of deprivation, would have been overwhelmed with gratitude to wear such a gown.

And Diana…

She, too, was glad to wear it.

But that was all.

Because this dress, this wedding, would change everything.

Because no matter how long she had been preparing for this, all the struggles of the past year and a half paled in comparison to what awaited her tomorrow.

Because tomorrow’s task would decide her fate.

‘Are you really ready for this, Dian?’

And if I’m not?

Would I leap out of this window and run?

Would I really find freedom in escape?

No.

If I run… Father will find me and end me.

Her warring thoughts clashed violently in her mind.

Just then—

“I thought you’d be here.”

A voice intruded, cutting through the turmoil in her head.

The low cadence of his words silenced the countless voices screaming in her mind.

Her scattered thoughts dissipated, leaving behind only clarity.

Diana instinctively released her grip on the dress, preparing to respond—

But Ersivan spoke first.

“Nervous?”

She must have seemed anxious, pacing instead of resting, lingering here instead of lying in bed.

“I thought you’d be fine, but it seems I was mistaken.”

“What is there to be concerned about? Just go through the procedure and it’ll be over.”

She met his gaze with a calm, unbothered smile.

It was obvious, really.

Even Ersivan couldn’t see through everything she felt.

After a long pause, Diana spoke again, breaking the silence herself.

“…Evan. Do you remember?”

She didn’t specify what, but he only stared back at her in silence, not responding.

That was his way of conversing—wordless patience, waiting for her to elaborate.

So she continued.

“The first night I arrived at the duchy, you made me a wager.”

‘Shall we make a bet?’

‘Let’s see whether you’ll be spending the night in this room or not.’

That night, three months ago, on the evening of their first meeting, he had proposed a pointless gamble.

Diana, hesitant at first, had eventually accepted the wager—

And won.

“I won that bet.”

“And I promised to grant you anything in return.”

“I plan to use that wish tomorrow.”

Ersivan raised a brow.

“That makes me nervous,” he teased. “Are you planning to call off the wedding?”

Diana didn’t laugh at his joke.

Her violet eyes were unnervingly calm.

A subtle unease crept in at her quiet gaze, but it quickly dissipated as she smiled.

“You already know that’s not the case,” she said softly.

“It won’t make things easier for now, but it will complicate things in the future. I don’t even know if you’ll grant my request…”

“As I promised, I’ll grant you anything.”

“Your words are reassuring, but it’s not something simple.”

She exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening ever so slightly at her sides.

“If I weren’t so uncertain, I wouldn’t be bringing up a mere joke from that night.”

Her tone was firm, drawing an invisible boundary between them.

Ersivan stiffened slightly, his composure wavering for the first time.

Then, he stepped forward.

A dark shadow loomed closer, making her instinctively retreat a step back.

But the moment she moved away, he deliberately stepped closer again.

“…Ah!”

With nowhere left to retreat, Diana’s back collided with the window frame.

A quiet gasp escaped her lips at the unexpected pain.

“Be careful…!”

The once impassive expression on Ersivan’s face had vanished, replaced by genuine concern.

Diana watched in disbelief as his hand hesitated near her back, as if uncertain where to touch.

The arrogance that always lingered beneath his gentle demeanor was now nowhere to be seen.

For the first time, his face was marked by unfiltered worry.

His palm rested between her and the hard wooden frame, shielding her from the impact.

Even through the layers of her gown, his warmth seared into her skin, as though there was nothing between them at all.

“Lillian.”

His grip on her waist tightened slightly, pulling her forward just enough to close the distance.

Suddenly, there was no space left between them—close enough to feel each other’s breath.

Diana instinctively held hers.

“I am not,” he murmured, his voice steady, “so unfeeling that I would fail to understand my own wife.”

His tone was soft, yet unyielding.

Ersivan was not one to leave his sentences open-ended, yet now, he clipped his words deliberately, sealing off any possibility for further discussion.

His manner of speaking was rigid, every syllable precisely measured.

“So keep that wish of yours,” he continued. “Save it for something more important.”

He wanted to keep that card in her hands, to make sure she could use it when she truly needed it.

“Are you not going to answer me?”

Diana did not respond.

She simply stared back at him in silence.

Tomorrow, she would no longer be Lillian.

Tomorrow, Ersivan would be the first to learn her true identity.

To survive, she was prepared to use any means necessary—even if it meant invoking his parents and hers, even if it meant touching upon the Empress, the very person who could wound him most deeply.

If he knew that…

Would he still be able to speak to her like this?

No.

If she weren’t so foolishly desperate, she might have even laughed at herself for expecting anything from him.

The realization disgusted her.

Her eyes stung.

She had wasted too much time in this moment—and now, the burning sensation at the corners of her eyes betrayed her.

The sting was sharp, reminiscent of a splash of lemon juice seeping into an unnoticed cut.

A memory resurfaced—Count Mernard’s cold words from long ago:

“You cry too easily.”

Perhaps, for the first time, Diana agreed with him.

Tipping her head downward, she forced her emotions into submission.

By the time she lifted her gaze again, her face was composed.

“I understand,” she said, her tone light, as if the conversation had never affected her at all.

“You should return to your room now. I’ll finish up here and join you shortly.”

“What if I insist on escorting you?”

“Then I’ll insist that you leave first.”

“As expected.”

Ersivan was not foolish enough to miss the act she was putting on.

But he chose to overlook it.

The tears that had shimmered at the edge of her lashes were nothing more than scattered stardust, remnants of a fading night.

And so, he let them disappear without a word.

The chirping of birds and the resonating chime of the grandfather clock stirred Diana awake.

Rubbing her eyes, she reached for the small silver bell beside the table and rang it once.

The soft jingle was immediately met with a response from Daisy.

“You’re awake, my lady?”

The moment the words left the maid’s lips, the door swung open.

One by one, a procession of attendants entered the room in perfect coordination.

“What is all this…?”

“We are here to assist you, my lady.”

Unlike Diana, who blinked in surprise, the maids remained composed—

As if this was the moment they had been waiting for their entire lives.

They moved with a sense of solemn duty, as if preparing for a battle rather than a wedding.

Before she could fully process the sheer number of them, her bed was already being tidied, the linens smoothed and folded within seconds.

A moment later, a pair of hands gently guided her upright, and her transformation for the day began.

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