I Became the Heroine’s Stand-in - Chapter 66

In the end, Diana chose the safest answer.

“I didn’t know it was poisoned.”

But the safest choice also came with the greatest losses.

As expected, her excuse did not sit well with Ersivan. His expression twisted in displeasure, as if he’d rather she had stayed silent than utter such nonsense.

“…I didn’t know, which is why I could act so recklessly. If I had known, do you think I would have tried to drink it?”

“You knew.”

She hastily added more to her defense, but it was useless.

Without a word, Ersivan reached out and grasped her wrist.

His large hand easily enclosed her slender arm, his thumb and fingers meeting with room to spare.

The delicate bones, the skin stretched thinly over them—he found himself unconsciously frowning.

“…So, when I grabbed your wrist and took the cup, you were startled because you had no idea, is that it?”

His gaze was heavy.

Feeling the weight of his stare, Diana turned her head away.

Her lowered eyes landed on the floor, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“I was just surprised because Your Highness suddenly took away tea given by the Empress.”

“Dian.”

“Or are you suggesting I was shocked for some other reason?”

“Diana.”

“Because Your Highness drank the poisoned tea in my place?”

“…Diana Valencia.”

Dian.

Diana.

Diana Valencia.

He called her by so many different names, yet every time, she wished he wouldn’t.

He spoke so carelessly, as if no words held any meaning.

And yet, whenever he called her name, his voice softened.

She didn’t want to welcome that kind of distinction.

She didn’t need it.

“…Fine. But answer my question first.”

She realized that no matter how much she tried to twist the conversation, she wouldn’t be able to escape his scrutiny.

“What were you thinking when you drank it?”

“…”

“You could have died. Even if you survived, you might have been left crippled! There’s no way you didn’t know that. So why—why would you do something so reckless?”

Emotions were difficult to control.

And when they flared up so suddenly, they were even harder to contain.

It was absurd to be the one yelling when she was the one in the wrong.

But she couldn’t help it.

For a fleeting moment, she caught sight of Ersivan’s expression.

It was unreadable.

He didn’t look angry, nor did he look guilty.

His face was utterly blank, like a pristine sheet of paper.

“If someone had to take the risk, it only made sense for it to be me.”

“…What?”

“There was no reason for you to suffer for the mistakes of my shameful family.”

He spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his voice devoid of any emotion.

Diana regretted asking.

She found herself speechless, waiting for him to continue.

“…And now, it’s your turn.”

Her turn.

Her thoughts tangled, one over the other, forming a dense thicket.

She hesitated for a long time before finally forcing herself to speak.

“I’d rather not explain how I found out.”

“That’s fine. I only care about why you were willing to drink it.”

“I just… I just wanted to help Your Highness.”

“By drinking poison?”

His voice was thick with disbelief.

He repeated her words, as if needing to confirm he had heard them correctly.

The coldness in his tone made Diana flinch.

She hadn’t meant to, but she found herself glancing at him hesitantly.

She hesitated again before answering.

“I… I didn’t have the courage to drink it all like Your Highness did. I was only going to take a sip and stop…”

“The quantity doesn’t matter. What I don’t understand is how you thought that would be of any help to me.”

“…Father once told me that Your Highness’s relationship with the Imperial Family wasn’t just strained—it was complicated. It wasn’t a simple dispute between parent and child.

So I thought… If someone completely unrelated to your conflict were to suffer, public opinion would shift in your favor.

If an outsider—someone with no connection to the tension between you and the Empress—were to be harmed, the people would turn against the Imperial Family.”

She couldn’t exactly tell him she had read his life story in a book from her past life.

So, she wove together the most plausible excuse she could think of.

Ersivan didn’t get along with Count Mernard, so he had no way to confirm whether her claim was true or not.

It was a convenient lie.

“This wasn’t something you needed to concern yourself with.

You had no reason to involve yourself in my affairs.”

“….”

“I appreciate the sentiment.

But I am not so weak that I need you to put yourself in danger for my sake.”

His voice was steady, each word pressed down with weight.

His clenched fist trembled slightly, veins rising against his skin.

“…If anything, I should be the one protecting you.”

He spoke like a parent scolding a reckless child.

His words made her feel small—so unbearably small.

Diana resented him for that.

For speaking so gently when he didn’t know anything.

She knew.

Even if she hadn’t stepped in, Ersivan Valencia would have endured.

He was someone who could stand alone.

Even in the short time she had observed him, she had come to understand that he was stronger than anyone she had ever known.

He didn’t need her help.

And yet— And yet, she had wanted to help him anyway.

If that were truly the case, then what value did Diana Valencia hold?

She had proposed a contract to ensure they both gained something from this arrangement.

But if she could no longer offer Ersivan any advantage, what would become of their agreement?

“If I can no longer fulfill my end of the bargain… do I still have the right to stay by your side?”

The unbidden thought sent a chill down her spine.

And in that moment, Diana realized something.

“…To think I would fear this more than death itself.”

It was almost laughable.

“That I don’t want to be cast aside by you.”

Understanding dawned upon her, piece by piece.

Her desperate search for Lillian wasn’t solely for Ersivan’s future.

It was because she feared what would happen to her once Lillian arrived and she was no longer needed.

She hadn’t told Ersivan about Lillian’s existence—not just because doing so would mean revealing how she had learned about her.

It was because she feared that, once he knew, he would no longer need her.

“Ah.”

It was absurd.

Realizing such a trivial emotion had made her fear her present more than her future.

Diana had spent her entire life living for the future.

This kind of concern should never have even occurred to her.

She lifted her head and looked at him.

A man fated by destiny.

A man with a match chosen by the gods.

And yet, she had been foolish enough to develop feelings for him.

It was infuriating.

Perhaps she should just confess everything now, make things difficult for him.

Perhaps she wanted to see that calm, composed expression falter because of her, even just once.

Her pride nearly won.

But her reason…

Her reason screamed to stay by his side, even a little longer.

And so, in the end, she backed down.

“As Your Highness says, it was nothing but useless meddling.”

“Dian, that’s not what I meant—”

“But Your Highness, you wouldn’t understand.”

Her voice, like the strands of her hair slipping down her cheek, sank quietly.

“You don’t know how afraid I am.”

“…”

“How often death reaches for my ankles.”

Even now, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth.

But she could at least tell him what had once been true.

Contrary to her expectations, he didn’t respond immediately.

When she finally raised her gaze, she found Ersivan staring at her, his expression heavy with something she couldn’t quite place.

“…That’s why I tried to make myself useful.

Because no matter how comfortable things seem now, I could be discarded at any moment.”

She let those words slip out, as if throwing away a burden.

She emphasized death—her fear of it—over anything else, afraid that, if he were perceptive enough, he might see through to her real feelings.

“You’ve been thinking that all this time?”

“…”

“That I would cast you aside?”

“…”

“…Why—why would you ever think that?”

She had anticipated many reactions.

She had prepared herself for cold indifference, for dismissive amusement.

But not for this.

His lips trembled.

His already pale face looked even weaker.

His eyes—red-rimmed, like he might cry at any moment—held a devastation she couldn’t comprehend.

Like he was watching the world collapse before his very eyes.

For a brief moment…

She allowed herself to hope.

“…Then, were you trying to protect me?”

But she quickly crushed that flicker of hope before it could grow.

She needed to ground herself.

She needed to remind herself of reality.

Hope was a cruel thing.

Even if she tried to shatter it on her own, the shards would only find a way to piece themselves back together.

She needed him to break it.

Him—the very source of these unbearable emotions.

And so, she pushed him further.

She needed to push him.

“Or is there even a reason for Your Highness to protect me?”

“…What?”

“I was raised in squalor, so I am nothing but lowly filth.

Everything about my life—my birth, the path I’ve walked, the stairs I’ve climbed—has been utterly different from yours.

I only learned the ways of nobility in adulthood, and even then, only because I had to pose as my sister.

I am always a step behind.

I have no extraordinary talents.

So tell me—what do I have to offer?”

“…”

“What do I have that makes me worth anything to you?

Why did Your Highness throw himself into death’s path for me?”

The question circled back to the very beginning.

She wanted him to say it was all because of their damned contract.

That she was necessary for the sole purpose of dismantling the Mernard family.

Nothing more, nothing less.

If he did, it would snuff out this painful, fleeting emotion before it could take root.

At the same time…

Some small, stubborn part of her wished—

Hoped—that everything he had done so far had been real.

That every action he had taken had been out of something deeper than just obligation.

“Emotions are too complicated… too contradictory.”

If only she had known that sooner.

If only… she had never started feeling anything at all.

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