I Became the Heroine’s Stand-in - Chapter 65

The train station was as chaotic as ever.

Travelers bustled about, clutching their suitcases covered in stickers from the regions they had visited. In their other hand, they held their tickets, their eyes flicking between the platform signs as they tried to locate their train.

Diana moved away from the crowded areas, heading toward the ticket booth.

“May I help you with a purchase?”

“Oh, I’m not here to buy a ticket—I just have a question.”

The ticket agent tilted their head slightly, signaling for her to continue.

“I need to know which trains were operating on this day.”

She pointed at the small calendar pinned to the desk—the day Lillian had checked out of her inn.

“That was the day after the Subjugation Festival ended, so there were quite a lot of trains running. Do you know the destination?”

“No, I don’t. Could you at least narrow it down to trains that departed after noon?”

Most inns required guests to check out in the morning, which meant the majority of travelers would have taken earlier trains.

“That would definitely make it easier. One moment, please.”

Thanks to Lillian extending her stay until noon, Diana’s task had just become significantly simpler.

The agent compiled a list of all the trains that had operated in the afternoon and handed it to her.

It was a sheet of paper listing the departure times and destinations of each train.

Although the list was now considerably shorter, there were still far too many options.

Unlike an inn, she couldn’t just check each location one by one.

She needed a new approach.

“Let’s start by eliminating places that would have been more convenient to reach from the Mernard estate.”

Lillian wouldn’t have made such a long journey just to go somewhere she could have accessed more easily from home.

That removed five locations from the list.

“She wouldn’t have stayed somewhere expensive for long. But she also wouldn’t have gone somewhere too dangerous.”

That ruled out six more places—three on each extreme.

“And yet, I still have ten possibilities left.”

Diana felt overwhelmed.

Even as she carefully crossed out destinations with a red pen, the number of remaining options seemed daunting.

She rested her forehead against the paper, shaking her head in frustration.

Just then, a signal beeped from the communicator Cardel had given her.

When she pressed the button, his voice came through.

“I’m contacting you because your time’s almost up.”

“Oh, thanks. Honestly, I got so focused I completely forgot about our agreement.”

“Figured as much. Where are you?”

“The train station in the capital.”

“Well, at least you’re not lying.”

“…Wait, did you already know?”

“If you were really sneaking around with a lover, I would’ve given my poor friend a heads-up.”

He sounded just as smug as ever, ready to tease her at any opportunity.

“Has His Highness… still not woken up?”

“If he had, do you think I’d have the luxury of chatting like this?”

“That’s true.”

“Anyway, once the clock strikes the hour, the gate will open. Be on time.”

“Got it.”

Back at the estate, Diana made sure to dispose of all evidence.

She placed the train schedule in her jewelry box and burned the clothes she had worn on her trip.

This time, she dressed in expensive, well-tailored loungewear.

The contrast between poverty and luxury was jarring.

Feeling unsettled, she absentmindedly tightened the ribbon around her waist.

“Madam!”

Just as she was about to sit down and get to work at her desk, Daisy burst into the room without knocking.

Diana had no time to scold her for her rudeness—Daisy’s face was streaked with tears.

“His Grace has woken up!”

“His Highness is conscious?”

“Yes! Hurry, you must see him! Quickly!”

Daisy all but shoved her toward the door, urging her forward.

Diana hurriedly moved, but as she reached the doorway, she hesitated.

Just beyond this thin wooden door, he was there.

The man who had spent the entire day unconscious, his breathing slow and steady, had finally awoken.

She pressed a trembling hand to her chest before summoning the courage to open the door.

The first thing she saw was Ersivan Valencia, propped up against the headboard of his bed.

“You’re really awake.”

Her voice barely made it past her lips as she leaned against the doorframe.

The playful glint in his eyes, the way his lips had been curled in amusement as if he had been enjoying a joke just moments ago—it all vanished like a grain of sand swallowed by the tide.

That fleeting emotion gave way to something else.

Diana looked… different.

The gray hair, the bright yellow eyes—they were exactly as they had been that day.

The day he had taken her to the village to observe the knights training among commoners.

Her current appearance was identical to the image of someone he had longed to see.

As Diana stepped closer, Ersivan reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist.

Despite having just recovered from the brink of death, his grip was firm—strong enough to hold her in place.

“Evan?”

His hands were trembling.

His face, resting against her abdomen, was unsteady.

His breath, against the curve of her body, was uneven.

His lips barely grazed the fabric of her clothing before he finally spoke.

“I thought…”

“…”

“I was going to lose you.”

His words were raw, unfiltered.

The polished tone he always used with her was gone.

She didn’t even have the chance to push him away.

“Ersivan Valencia. Get a hold of yourself.”

Cardel’s voice, usually laced with humor, was now utterly solemn.

“Your Highness!”

It seemed Hyde had also just received the news. His voice carried an unusual urgency as he called out.

Ersivan startled like a child caught in the middle of some mischief.

For once, he seemed flustered, fumbling in a way that was entirely unlike him.

Then, without hesitation, he lowered Diana’s head and tucked her into his embrace.

Any fool would know that a mere change in hair and eye color wouldn’t be enough to hide the lady of the house.

Ersivan was no fool.

And yet, old habits were difficult to break.

The ingrained instinct of a boy who had once desperately hidden a girl with dark hair had resurfaced without warning.

His gaze toward Hyde was sharp, menacing.

It was the look of a man ready to gouge out the eyes of anyone who so much as dared to glance her way.

Hyde, visibly shrinking under that stare, quickly excused himself.

“…I see you were in the middle of a conversation with Madam. My apologies. I will return later.”

As the steward of the ducal house, Hyde had always wished for Ersivan’s happiness.

But now, watching himself be so easily discarded for the sake of his master’s wife left him feeling somewhat bitter.

Perhaps this was what it felt like for parents to watch their grown children find happiness in someone else.

Regretful but understanding, he saw to it that the other waiting servants were dismissed before retreating himself.

With the door now closed, only three people remained in the spacious room.

The first to speak was Cardel, who had been staring at Ersivan with an expression of pure bewilderment, as if looking at a complete lunatic.

“I don’t know whether to call this a relief or a joke.”

“…What?”

“But here’s the truth—you’re the only one who sees her that way.”

Ersivan’s eyes flickered in disbelief.

“I’m not that much of a scoundrel,” Cardel added, his smirk sharp as he leaned his head against his hand, tilting it mockingly.

Piecing together what he meant, Ersivan realized with horror—Diana’s altered appearance, the vision that had overwhelmed him—was something only he saw.

And yet, unaware of this, he had acted as though the past had come back to life.

“What the hell…”

Ersivan swore in a foreign language, his tone dark and menacing.

If anyone other than Cardel had heard it, they might have been terrified enough to wet themselves on the spot.

“You played with her appearance?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Her eyes, her hair—you changed everything!”

Diana, who had been following the heated exchange, suddenly caught onto a familiar word.

“Hair?”

It was a basic term she had learned while studying foreign languages at the count’s estate.

At her soft murmur, Ersivan’s grip on her loosened.

The tension in his arms relaxed, and she was finally able to lift her head.

“…Is there something wrong with my hair?”

Her innocent question made his breath hitch.

That moment, Diana recalled the afternoon’s events—the tea, the poison, the Empress’s invitation.

She carefully chose her next words, feigning ignorance.

Her deliberate reaction pushed the tense atmosphere to its breaking point.

Ersivan’s expression darkened further.

Was she trying to uncover the truth?

Growing anxious, he shot a glare at Cardel, his patience snapping.

“Get out.”

“I nursed you back to health, and this is the thanks I get?”

“I never asked for it. If you feel wronged, I’ll compensate you in gold—now get out.”

Cardel sighed in feigned disappointment but stood nonetheless.

On his way out, he patted Diana’s shoulder twice, as if offering her encouragement.

The moment the door closed behind him, her darkened hair shimmered and slowly returned to its golden hue.

“Dian.”

A much gentler touch ran through the strands, playing with the delicate golden threads.

Her fine hair, already wavy, curled further beneath his fingertips.

The sense of relief washing over her was unfamiliar.

But was it truly relief?

She wasn’t even certain what she was feeling.

She had no idea how to define it, why she felt it, or what it even meant.

“…Are you all right?”

The question was so absurdly misplaced that she was momentarily stunned.

Her curled toes, tensed with unease, finally relaxed against the floor.

“…Are you seriously asking that now?”

Ersivan did not respond.

She bit down hard, forcing herself to remain calm.

But she couldn’t.

Her anger—no, her fear—was bleeding into her voice, making it tremble at the edges.

“Why did you drink it?”

“…”

“Why the hell… would you do that?!”

Her voice broke.

She sounded foolish, unable to control the storm of emotions raging within her.

“And what about you?”

His reply was laced with quiet resentment.

“Why did you try to drink the poison my mother gave you?”

His words left her utterly speechless.

She couldn’t give him the real answer.

Part of it was because of the greater secret she carried—the truth she had to keep hidden.

But there was another reason.

She didn’t want to admit the real reason to him.

That if it had been for him, she would have willingly taken the poison.

“How could I?”

She had told herself it was just to strengthen their contract.

That she wanted to be useful, to survive.

But as she had watched him collapse—

As she had felt her own rising panic— She had realized the truth.

“How could I possibly tell you that I have come to care for you?”

She couldn’t.

She could never admit it.

And so, she remained silent.

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