I Became the Heroine’s Stand-in - Chapter 62

Due to the imperial palace’s strict rules prohibiting the entry of knights from other orders, Diana had to part ways with the members of House Valencia at the palace gates.

From there, she proceeded to the drawing room, escorted by the imperial knights.

For security reasons, Diana walked alone down the final corridor. As she reached the door the knights had directed her to, she came to a halt before knocking.

“I greet Your Majesty. I am Lillian Valencia.”

The moment she stepped inside, a cold draft greeted her. It wasn’t refreshing—it was chilling. The air seemed to mirror the atmosphere of the room.

Kain and Ersivan, who were already seated, turned their gazes toward her, while the Empress didn’t so much as glance in her direction. Keeping her eyes lowered the entire time, the Empress finally spoke in a dull tone.

“Sit down, madam.”

Diana gave a respectful nod before taking a seat beside Ersivan.

There was an indescribable strangeness in the air. She wondered if her presence had momentarily disrupted the mood, but Ersivan’s visibly relaxed expression suggested otherwise.

How could a family gathering feel so rigid? The sheer discomfort in the air made it seem more like a meeting between enemies rather than blood relatives.

“This is our first formal meeting, isn’t it?”

“It is an honor to meet the Sun of the Empire.”

“I recall seeing you at the palace a few times when you were younger. Back then, you were still a little girl, and now you stand beside my son as his equal.”

As any elder would, the Empress lamented how quickly time passed.

“How has life been treating you lately? My son hasn’t been giving you trouble, has he?”

“Not at all. If anything, he treats me so well that I hardly know how to handle it.”

“That is a relief to hear. That thoughtless child seems to have matured a bit.”

The way the Empress spoke so fondly to Ersivan sent shivers down Diana’s spine.

Watching them, she felt her perception of the Empress begin to blur.

How could this possibly be the same woman who once tried and failed to kill her own child?

“I suppose it is all thanks to you for guiding my son down the right path.”

The Empress smiled, her expression radiating elegance.

Though objectively speaking, she wasn’t more beautiful than Diana, there was an aura about her—an air of refinement and mystery that could only come with age.

“So she truly bewitched the Emperor, despite his existing commitments…”

Even women might be captivated by her charm. A man seated on the throne must have been an easy conquest.

“…Valencia.”

“…”

“Duchess Valencia.”

Diana had unknowingly lost herself in thought.

Fortunately, she wasn’t staring at the Empress when it happened; otherwise, she might have committed a grave discourtesy.

Snapping back to reality, she quickly masked her lapse with a poised smile.

“Your tea will grow cold.”

“Ah…”

“It was imported from the eastern seas. The scent is quite distinct, as one would expect from foreign tea. They say drinking it in a single gulp enhances its flavor. You should try it.”

At the Empress’s prompting, Diana reached for the teacup.

Even the porcelain bore intricate foreign patterns, as if chosen to match the tea’s exotic origins.

She first inhaled the aroma, parting her lips slightly as the rising steam brushed against her throat.

It was time to take a sip. Just as she brought the cup closer and tilted it toward her lips—

<Don’t drink it.>

A commanding voice stopped her in her tracks.

It wasn’t Kain’s or Ersivan’s.

Nor was it the Empress’s—the very person who had first offered her the tea.

<It’s poisoned.>

The voice warned her again.

The chilling words made her lips instinctively snap shut.

<If you drink it, you’ll die.>

Now, the voice was speaking as if it had the right to determine her fate.

Diana frantically searched for the source of the voice before finally lowering her gaze to the accessory hanging around her neck.

A faint breeze caressed the nape of her neck, as though something had just stirred.

“A spirit.”

The pendant, which had been inert ever since she forged a contract with Cardel, had finally activated.

“So this is what it does…”

It was a relief to have discovered its ability, but of all times for it to awaken, why now—at a moment like this?

For now, she heeded the spirit’s warning and set the teacup back down on the table.

The Empress, who had been quietly watching her, smiled faintly as if in understanding.

“It seems you aren’t accustomed to the scent. But the flavor is quite exquisite, wouldn’t you agree, Your Highness?”

“Yes. I’m sure my wife would appreciate it.”

Now, even Kain had joined forces with the Empress to coax her into drinking the tea.

But knowing what she knew, there was no way she would oblige.

<They’re lying. You must trust me.>

“Even if you don’t feel inclined to drink it, won’t you at least share the first cup with us? It was specially prepared for you.”

The conflicting voices overlapped in her mind.

The sheer mental strain was enough to make her head pound.

Of course, the liar here was the Empress.

“Poison.”

Since she had been instructed to drink it all in one go, the toxin likely wasn’t potent enough to kill instantly.

<If you drink the whole thing, you’ll die. Even if you survive, you’ll need a priest’s divine power just to endure the aftereffects.>

It was as if the spirit had read her thoughts—it provided a clear and detailed explanation.

Like anyone else, Diana valued her own life above all else.

There was no way she was foolish enough to knowingly ingest poison and risk permanent harm to her body.

It was a truly bizarre situation.

Instead of pretending to slip and shattering the cup, her hand kept gravitating toward it.

Why…

Why was she, of all things, tempted to play such a dangerous game?

After carefully deliberating, Diana narrowed it down to three choices.

First: She could break the cup and destroy the evidence entirely.

Second: She could claim that the tea was poisoned, ensuring her safety while exposing the truth.

Third: She could take a small sip.

Each option had its clear pros and cons.

The first would ensure nothing happened—neither gains nor losses. However, letting this incident slide so easily felt infuriating.

The second would require her to explain how she discovered the poison, but it would do little to punish the Empress. Instead, someone else—likely the servant who brewed the tea—would bear the consequences. A tongue cut out, a head rolling, and the matter would be neatly closed.

Even if Diana did drink the poison, the Empress would never be held accountable. She wasn’t a fool—she had surely prepared multiple escape routes well in advance.

And finally, the third option. It was similar to the second, except that if word spread that the Duchess of Valencia had suffered harm in the imperial palace, the rumors would cause a stir.

It was widely known that Ersivan had abandoned his family name in his youth, straining his relationship with the imperial family. This incident would only serve as fuel to further ignite speculation.

That could work in Diana’s favor when she decided to reveal the truth in the future.

Inevitably, the third option was the most enticing.

“Just a little… It should be fine.”

A single drop might not have any effect—perhaps a sip would be better.

“If a brief moment of suffering strengthens my contract with him, then maybe it’s a price worth paying.”

Perhaps Diana was far more calculative than she had realized.

No, she had always known that about herself. She just hadn’t expected to be this ruthless, even now.

To think she was considering turning today’s ordeal into a safeguard against Ersivan in the future.

Letting out a quiet scoff, Diana picked up the teacup once again.

The aroma had changed.

Now that the tea had cooled, the remnants of the poison had thickened, releasing a faint, foul stench.

“…Just a little. Only a little.”

She hadn’t even taken a sip, yet her throat bobbed in anticipation.

Was her own body siding with the Empress now? It felt parched, as though desperate for a drink.

Shutting her eyes tightly, Diana finally tilted the cup.

The tea’s lingering warmth enveloped her face—despite having thought it had already cooled.

However, just as she mustered the courage to take that sip—

“It’s so thoughtful of Mother to show such interest in my wife…”

Ersivan’s voice shattered the moment.

It had been a long time since she had heard that tone.

The unique way his words thinned at the end, like an unraveling thread.

But now wasn’t the time to admire it.

His grip had tightened around her wrist.

Her trembling fingers, barely holding onto the cup, seemed ready to drop it at any moment.

Diana shot him a warning look, silently chastising him for making a scene, but Ersivan returned her gaze with one of pure resentment.

“How could I not be suspicious?”

Without waiting for a response, he reached over with his other hand and snatched the teacup away.

Diana had lost her best move without so much as a struggle.

With no hesitation, Ersivan downed the tea in one go.

His throat moved in one fluid motion, swallowing every last drop.

By the time he set the empty cup down, there was nothing left inside.

“…Duke.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

His blue eyes gleamed coldly.

The Empress’s golden-brown hair, which usually resembled a field of wheat, swayed violently as her clenched fist struck the table with a dull thud.

“What do you think will happen?”

“…”

“My apologies, but I am not foolish enough to fall for the same trap twice. If you thought I was as incompetent as my imbecile younger brother…”

His slow, measured steps carried him forward.

By the time he stopped, he was standing right beside the Empress’s chair.

With deliberate ease, he turned her seat to face him directly.

It should have been heavy, adorned with extravagant embellishments, yet he moved it effortlessly, as if it weighed nothing.

“You were mistaken, Mother.”

I do not lose what is mine twice.

The last words never made it past his lips.

Instead, what spilled from his mouth was a stream of deep crimson.

Blood, the same color as his eyes, trickled down his chin.

His entire body convulsed as he violently coughed up thick clots, splattering the Empress’s face and hands.

“…Your Highness. Summon the physician.”

The Empress finally spoke as the weight of his collapsing body bore down upon her.

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