I Became the Heroine’s Stand-in - Chapter 55

Leaning against the railing of the bridge, she savored the rare moment of peace. The occasional water droplets carried by the wind were pleasantly cool against her skin.

When they had first set out, the evening sky had been a bright golden hue, much like the buds of forsythia preparing to bloom. But now, standing on the bridge, she looked up to find that the colors had faded into a dusky twilight.

Ersivan lit the sparkler, and bursts of tiny flames scattered in all directions. The golden light mirrored the hues of the sunset they had admired just hours ago.

Diana closed her eyes, focusing on the sound.

Sometimes, when one cannot see, sounds become clearer—more vivid. The crackling of the sparks resonated within her, dancing through her ears like nimble feet gliding across glass.

Pop. Crackle. Snap.

The fierce, fiery sparks sent sharp, stinging bursts of light into the night. But their brilliance was softened by the gentle rush of water below—a rhythmic lullaby that soothed the intensity.

As the wind brushed against the river’s surface, forming tiny ripples, Diana felt her own emotions stir, mirroring the movement of the water.

When she finally opened her eyes, the sparks were still dancing in the air—scattering, flickering, dazzling in their ephemeral beauty.

For a moment, they reminded her of the stars in the night sky.

She had once read that stars burn themselves away to create their dazzling display.

Looking at the fiery embers, she had the strangest thought—perhaps these little flames would ascend and take their place among the stars.

But before she could indulge in the fantasy, the sparkler began to dim.

Like all things, its time came to an end.

Diana watched as the final flickers faded into darkness, leaving behind nothing but a cold, lifeless metal stick.

She stared at it absently. Had she been able to hold the fire in her hands, she might have endured the pain just to keep it.

“…It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

Hearing her quiet admiration, Ersivan smiled, his own sparkler still burning beside him.

“I knew you’d like it.”

Not I thought you might like it—but I knew.

His certainty was so casual, so unshakable, that it bordered on arrogance. But somehow, it suited him perfectly.

“You always seem to know what I like,” she noted.

“Do I?”

“Yes. The lavender, this… I feel like you’re uncovering my tastes before I even realize them myself.”

“…Finding your preferences, huh?”

Ersivan repeated the words slowly, then dropped his gaze toward the railing.

She had no idea how naive she sounded.

Her gentle voice, filled with genuine wonder, tugged at something deep within him.

“These are simply things I like,” he admitted. “It’s just fortunate that we share similar tastes.”

“You have… a rather unique taste, then.”

“Do I?”

“I mean… at our age, playing with sparklers seems a little childish, don’t you think?”

The thought amused her.

For someone who looked like he could set an entire battlefield ablaze, it was funny that he enjoyed something so simple.

Even the fact that he could wield magic didn’t change the fact that, deep down, he hadn’t lost all his childish wonder.

“Ah. Mine’s gone out too.”

As she spoke, the last ember of his sparkler flickered and died.

They exchanged glances, then burst into carefree laughter.

“This really is childish,” Diana admitted.

The deep tolling of the clock tower’s bells rang out in the distance.

Three chimes, followed by the soft hum of string instruments—a half-hour warning before the hour struck.

“It’s almost time to leave.”

Their carriage was scheduled to arrive soon.

The wistfulness in her voice did not go unnoticed.

“There’s still time,” Ersivan replied. “No need to rush.”

Enjoy the moment—don’t dwell on what’s coming next.

Understanding his meaning, Diana gave a slight nod and turned her gaze toward the night sky.

Without the glow of the sparklers, the world seemed much darker.

Only the reflection of countless stars upon the water provided light, like nature’s own glimmering lanterns.

It felt… unfamiliar.

Was it truly okay to stand here like this?

To be at ease with someone who knew who she really was?

Some people might not have cared.

But Diana was not one of them.

She had always been someone to whom happiness felt foreign.

“Ersivan,” she murmured.

“Hm?”

“Do I… really belong here? Beside you?”

She wasn’t sure why she was asking.

Perhaps it was the night air, or perhaps it was the way he treated her with such gentle familiarity, but for some reason, she couldn’t hold back her thoughts.

“…Is it really okay for me to call you by name?”

“For me to stand by your side as the Duchess of Valencia? To play the role of your wife?”

He had an agenda, of course.

If she asked, he would surely affirm it without hesitation.

She wasn’t foolish enough to believe otherwise.

But what was she really hoping to confirm?

No matter how much she pondered, she found no answer—only a sinking feeling, as if she were being swallowed by her own thoughts.

“…It’s okay,” he said simply.

The hush of the night made his voice all the more strikingly clear.

She could hear nothing else but the sound of his breath, steady and unwavering.

“No matter who says otherwise—don’t listen to them.”

“……”

“I made it so, Diana. In this empire, there is nothing that cannot be.”

His voice carried into the night, warm and resonant.

It was warmer than the sun that proudly blazed at noon in midsummer, softer than the hearth that soothed a frozen body in the dead of winter.

“……Why.”

Her delicate features were contorted with confusion, her furrowed brows betraying her emotions.

“Why…?”

“……”

“Why are you being so kind to me?”

She couldn’t comprehend it.

In the past, it had made sense—he had mistaken her for Lillian, and so, naturally, he had treated her well to win her favor.

But now, he knew the truth.

He knew she was Diana, not Lillian.

She held no particular significance in his grand scheme of revenge. There was no longer any need for him to continue this charade—and yet, he still wore the same mask, still feigned affection, still acted as if he cared.

Why?

If it had been in his nature to be gentle, she might have understood.

But Ersivan was not that kind of man.

So then, why?

Did she still hold some use to him?

But that didn’t make sense either. If her life was already at his mercy, there was no need for this—no need for warmth, for kindness.

Her gaze lingered on his lips, as if willing them to part and give her the truth.

“…If our relationship were to suddenly change, wouldn’t it cause unnecessary suspicion?”

It was the most convenient excuse he could offer.

Diana nodded, reluctantly accepting his reasoning.

“I believe we have shared a certain closeness, after all,” he continued smoothly.

He spoke as if they were old acquaintances—as if the intimacy between them had been natural all along.

“So, even in private, you should call me by name. If you cannot be comfortable with me, then when the time comes to act, it will feel unnatural.”

If their relationship had been just a little closer, if some of the falsehoods had already been cast aside, Ersivan might have told her the truth.

But there was nothing for her to gain from hearing it now.

If she learned too much, she might panic and try to flee—and that would be troublesome.

“And as for my kindness…”

“……”

“I owe you something in return.”

He reached out, then hesitated.

He had intended to brush away the strands of hair dancing in the wind, but recalling how she shied away from unnecessary touch, he refrained.

But then, as if by chance, a golden lock drifted across her cheek.

Taking the opportunity, he gently swept it away, his fingers brushing against the delicate skin of her face.

Her lashes fluttered slightly at the touch.

“…Do you remember what I said before?”

“That love is not the most burdensome thing?”

He had spoken those words once before.

At the time, they had both been too preoccupied with hiding their own secrets to truly understand one another.

Of course, even now, he was still withholding many things.

But his feelings toward her—at least those were real.

In the past, he had resented her.

Now, he found himself smiling in remembrance.

“Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, that burden seems to have lightened somewhat.”

“…Did that really help you?”

She was skeptical.

He had certainly not appreciated her words when she had said them.

Even after all these months, she still struggled to understand him.

Even if she gathered every fragment of truth he had revealed, she could not piece together a coherent answer.

If anything, it felt like she was the one who had been thoroughly exposed to him instead.

The distant ringing of the clock tower’s bells pulled her from her thoughts.

Five chimes echoed into the sky, accompanied by the resounding melody of brass instruments.

A messenger soon arrived with news—the carriage had arrived.

And just like that, their conversation was cut short.

They crossed the bridge, heading back toward the bustling city center.

Throughout the ride back to the estate, Ersivan once again practiced the art of enduring pain.

And once again, his condition was far better than expected.

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