I Became the Heroine’s Stand-in - Chapter 53

 

A soft chuckle broke the tense atmosphere.

“So, when exactly do you plan to let go of my arm?”

Ersivan’s voice was laced with amusement as he glanced down at her grip, prompting Diana to follow his gaze.

One of her hands was still clutching his wrist tightly, while the other rested flat against his chest.

It was only then that she realized the situation.

Not only had she thrown him to the ground, but now she was straddling him without even noticing.

No wonder he found it amusing.

Startled, Diana immediately released her hold.

Her first mistake was not thinking ahead—her second was not bracing herself properly.

With no support on her other arm, she lost balance, her body tipping dangerously to the side.

Ersivan caught her by the waist just in time, preventing her from falling flat on her face.

But the sudden shift in weight threw her even more off balance, and before she could react, she collapsed forward, pressing into his chest.

His grip tightened instinctively, steadying her.

She had now owed him twice in the span of seconds.

The firm touch of his calloused hands against her waist was undeniably intimate.

The heat of his palm, the pressure of his fingers—it was as if he were touching bare skin instead of fabric.

Her cheeks flushed at the thought.

“…Then when exactly do you plan to let go, Your Highness?”

“If I let go now, you might find yourself in quite the predicament.”

His playful smirk was infuriating.

He pretended to loosen his hold, and Diana frantically shook her head.

“Now that you mention it, perhaps you’re right.”

“See? But alas, I can’t ignore a direct command.”

“…We have a contract. You agreed to keep me safe.”

Her voice turned small, barely above a whisper. The desperation in it embarrassed her.

Perhaps she should have just let herself fall—anything was better than this.

Ersivan let out a low chuckle.

“Of course,” he murmured. “I did promise that.”

With deliberate ease, he loosened his grip, carefully lowering her to the floor.

As soon as she stood upright, he followed, his tall frame unfolding effortlessly.

The movement caused the large rug beneath them to shift slightly.

“Shall we move to a more comfortable place?”

Both their gazes drifted in the same direction.

The enormous bed took up a significant portion of the room.

It was only then that reality set in.

The bridal chamber.

Everything—the room, her delicate attire—had been prepared for him.

There was nowhere else to sit—the only option was the bed.

Was he suggesting rest?

Or did he intend to finish what they started?

Uncertain, Diana hesitantly asked,

“So… are we… supposed to…?”

The words trailed off as embarrassment stole her voice.

Ersivan, ever perceptive, understood immediately.

“There’s no need to worry,” he reassured her smoothly.

“Nothing will happen tonight.”

“…Are you disappointed?”

Her head snapped up.

“W-what kind of ridiculous—?!”

His lips quirked.

“If not, then there’s nothing to worry about. Now, come. Unless you plan to sleep standing up.”

His teasing made her huff in frustration, but ultimately, they both moved toward the bed.

Diana reclined halfway, resting her head against the ornate headboard.

Ersivan settled beside her, pulling the blanket up to her waist.

As fatigue weighed down on her, her eyelids drooped.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips.

“Diana.”

“…”

“Dianne.”

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of her real name.

She turned to face him, violet eyes wide with surprise.

“We’re not done talking yet.”

“…What?”

Ersivan watched her closely, clearly amused.

If he was going to provoke her, he might as well do it properly.

He knew she would force herself to stay awake, despite her exhaustion.

And as expected—She did.

“What… do we need to talk about?”

Diana tilted her head slightly, strands of golden hair slipping forward.

Ersivan reached over, tucking them behind her ear.

“Our relationship.”

She froze.

“Why discuss that now?”

“Well, it has changed, hasn’t it?”

“I don’t see how.”

He chuckled at her blatant denial.

“Whether you accept it or not, we’re married now, DiAnne.”

“Ah—!”

She slapped a hand over her mouth, as if that would somehow erase the name from existence.

Even her breath came in short, sharp bursts, as though she had just been caught committing a crime.

“For now,” she whispered, “don’t call me that.”

Ersivan raised an eyebrow.

“My real name,” she clarified.

“But weren’t you the one who asked me to use it?”

“T-that was—!”

“You even thanked me for it.”

His smirk deepened as he casually tucked another strand of hair behind her ear.

His fingers brushed against her heated skin, and she flinched.

Her ears burned.

The memory of that moment made her want to disappear.

She had been grateful when he first called her by her true name—Because no one else in the world remembered it anymore.

Diana lowered her gaze.

Hiding behind her hands, she mumbled,

“D-don’t tell me… you knew even then?”

“No,” he admitted.

She sighed in relief.

“But—”

His voice dropped slightly, sending a shiver down her spine.

“It was thanks to that moment that I figured it out.”

His words held weight—a hidden meaning she couldn’t quite grasp.

Diana’s lips parted slightly, then closed.

“…Either way, you can’t call me that.”

“And why not?”

“Someone might overhear.”

Ersivan waved off her concern.

“Don’t worry. I’ll only use it when we’re alone.”

Diana pouted.

He was being needlessly stubborn.

And for some reason—That bothered her more than it should have.

 

“If you’re asking why I call my wife by name, I’m not quite sure how to answer. Let’s just call it my naïve sense of romance for now.”

Naïve.

To describe Ersivan with that word?

It was as absurd as calling a genius foolish or filth pure—a contradiction in itself.

“You look like you don’t understand. That expression is a little hurtful, you know.”

“Ah—”

“And now you’re making an even more obvious face.”

Diana, who had been wearing the expression of someone who just bit into a stone, quickly corrected herself.

Normally, she would have masked her emotions with ease, but today, even the smallest things made her fumble.

Perhaps the shock of the night’s revelations had yet to fully settle.

Seeing her so genuinely flustered, he belatedly realized how foolish he had been not to notice sooner.

“Diana.”

“…”

“DiAnne.”

“Yes.”

Ersivan lowered his voice, calling her name softly.

As expected, she didn’t answer.

But when he switched to the name only he used, she reluctantly responded, as if she had no choice.

“…What exactly is your intention?”

She sounded exasperated.

Which was understandable—

He had just taken hold of her chin.

“Look at me,” he said.

“You, Your Highness?”

“Do you really not know who I am?”

It was a pointless question, the kind that had only one possible answer.

Diana blinked, furrowing her brows slightly.

“You’re the Duke of Valencia.”

“Not that.”

“…Then, you’re my husband now.”

She hesitated, then tried again, but still didn’t seem to reach the answer he wanted.

“Try looking a little closer,” he murmured.

Following his lead, Diana studied his face intently.

His sharp features, which might have been overwhelming on someone else, only enhanced his striking beauty.

Every little detail—his piercing red eyes, the noble arch of his nose, the perfectly sculpted lines of his jaw—were all part of what made him the most breathtakingly regal person she had ever seen.

But this wasn’t the answer he was looking for.

Aside from his extraordinary face, what else was there?

“…I don’t know,” she admitted at last.

At that, Ersivan lowered his head and laughed.

Having her cheeks cupped in his hands while he laughed at her felt strangely humiliating.

Though it had never happened before, she was certain it should never happen again.

“You must be completely confused,” he mused.

“Well, of course I am. I have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

“And I suspect this won’t be the last time.”

He said it as if making a bold declaration, but Diana wasn’t sure whether to find it brazen or appreciate the warning.

“And if I ask why, will you finally answer me?”

“What do you think?”

She sighed, already knowing the answer.

Of course not.

“I, on the other hand,” he continued, “will understand you, no matter what you do. Even if your actions go against my beliefs.”

“…I suppose that means I won’t have much to bargain with.”

It wasn’t as if she could afford to test his patience while hanging by a thread herself.

“When the time comes,” he said, his voice low, “don’t refuse me.”

“As if you’d ever give me the chance to refuse.”

“You know me too well. That’s a problem.”

Her petulant tone made him laugh again, and as he tilted his head, strands of his midnight-black hair brushed against her neck.

Was this really happening?

After all the worry, after all the fear— This night had been shockingly quiet.

Too quiet.

For a man like Ersivan Valencia, who was neither kind nor naive, to let things end like this—

Something didn’t feel right.

“Your Highness.”

“My name.”

“…”

“Call me by my name.”

Since revealing her identity, she had only addressed him formally.

Apparently, that didn’t sit well with him.

There was no room for argument in his tone.

Unable to find a reason to refuse, she relented.

“Alright, Ersivan. What is it?”

A faint smile curled his lips.

“I know what you want.”

She froze, choosing her next words carefully.

She couldn’t lay all her cards on the table.

She needed him to believe she was only vaguely aware of his plans.

He still didn’t know what she knew.

That was her only advantage.

“Yes,” she said cautiously. “So don’t cast me aside.”

“As if I ever would.”

A soft smirk graced his lips.

“This hair of yours…”

His fingers slipped through the golden strands, which had been meticulously cared for.

A faint herbal scent clung to the silk-like locks.

He slowly brought them to his lips, inhaling the scent deeply.

If hair could sense warmth, he thought idly, it would shudder under his breath.

“We’ll be together until it turns white.”

That night, Diana thought his words were like a flower without fragrance— Beautiful on the surface, but ultimately meaningless.

She had no idea how wrong she was.

And for a long time, she tormented herself over it.