I Became the Heroine’s Stand-in

“…Excuse me?”

Even when Diana questioned him, Ersivan merely tilted his head, as if genuinely confused by her reaction.

His expression was so innocently composed that it unsettled her.

No.

There was no way.

Ersivan had no reason to suspect Lillian’s existence.

“I shall believe that Your Highness did not fully grasp the implications of your words.”

Returning to reality, Diana reacted as any noblewoman would.

Most people would immediately take offense.

Because what he had just said—”You would suit having a twin”—was a veiled insult in the Empire.

It was no different from calling someone a witch.

Twins were considered an ill omen, a symbol of witches.

And this belief had roots—an infamous Imperial legend known as The Curse of the Twins.

The Legend of the Twins’ Curse

A century ago, the Empress had carried twins in her womb.

But only one of them was born alive—the elder son.

The Crown Prince was adored by all.

Until, one day, he betrayed them.

He led a rebellion, slaughtering his own family—the Emperor, the Empress, his younger brother, his cousins, and even his most loyal servants.

And then, he claimed the throne for himself.

He had been the first twin ever born into the Imperial family.

And because this anomaly had resulted in catastrophic ruin, people were convinced that twins were a witch’s curse.

**”Twins are evil.

Born by consuming each other in the womb, such beings can never bring light to the world.”**

“So that’s why you abandoned me.”

**”Had I not, you would have been doomed.

Branded a witch. Or a devil.

It is better to be forgotten than to become a disgrace.”**

The Count had never regretted his decision.

He had thrown away his own flesh and blood, and yet he felt no guilt.

He had looked down at her with nothing but indifference.

A single man’s actions had given birth to a superstition, one that still plagued the Empire.

And among those who fervently believed in it—

Was Count Mernard.

The Count had feared that the existence of twins would bring disgrace to his family name.

And so, he had made a choice—

He discarded Diana.

The only reason he hadn’t killed her outright was because of his so-called honor.

His bloodline was too “great” for him to imagine his own child’s death.

How utterly selfish.

Diana’s hands curled into fists.

Perhaps… it would have been better if she had never existed at all.

If she had to live a hidden life, forever unable to reveal herself—

Perhaps it would have been better to die as a nameless infant, knowing nothing at all.

“Judging by your reaction, I seem to have offended you.”

Ersivan’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts.

“To be honest, I worried I would leave a bad first impression.”

It was the kind of subtle, roundabout apology that only nobles could master.

Diana, still reeling from the memory, overcompensated—her response came out sharper than intended.

Fortunately, he was polite enough to apologize properly.

Ersivan bowed deeply, his silver-gold hair falling over his eyes.

A gesture far too exaggerated for the situation.

**”I must offer my sincerest apologies.

It is disgraceful that I have troubled you with my careless words.

I am ashamed to even lift my head.”**

**”I have heard that overlooking mistakes is a virtue.

So please, raise your head, Your Highness.”**

His formality was more intense than she had expected, making her uncomfortable.

She urged him to straighten himself.

When he finally did, his eyes met hers, as if silently asking—

“Are you truly alright?”

Of course, she had no choice but to nod in reassurance.

And with that, he conceded.

“It seems I have caused a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding?”

“I have never thought of twins as something… bad.”

Diana paused.

For a moment, she wondered if he was about to offer an excuse.

But instead, he simply continued.

**”Wouldn’t it be quite convenient?

Twins have their uses.

They could impersonate each other without anyone noticing.

They could cover for each other’s duties with small, harmless favors.

Or, perhaps… a would-be assassin might confuse them, killing the wrong one instead.”**

“…”

**”Or, who knows?

They could even switch lives entirely… and no one would be the wiser.”**

A cold, merciless chill settled over her.

As if the world were blooming into spring, yet she alone had been left in the dead of winter.

Her breath caught.

Could he… truly not know?

Her pulse thrummed against her skin.

Tension coiled tightly in her chest.

His words—so precise, so disturbingly accurate—echoed in her mind.

Did he know?

Or was this just… a coincidence?

**”That is quite a frightening thought.

Dangerous, even.”**

She forced the words out, keeping her voice steady.

**”Do you think so?

It would be rather sad if you believed me to be so heartless—someone who would use even his own kin as pawns.”**

She hadn’t meant him.

She had meant his words—how chillingly accurate they were.

And yet, his expression remained unreadable.

Had he truly meant nothing by it?

Or had he been testing her?

Diana swallowed the lump in her throat.

She had entered a game she hadn’t even realized had begun.

And in this game, She had to survive.

“So, you believe in that legend as well, my lady?”

“I believe, Your Highness, that you might be the only person in the Empire who does not.”

The tale of the mad tyrant was not just a myth—it was written in the history books.

Because of him, many came to fear the so-called curse of twins.

“It is far more advantageous not to believe in such things.”

“Advantageous?”

**”One day, perhaps, my lack of belief will prove its worth.

If those I love are ever revealed to be the remnants of that curse…

Then at the very least, they will not have to suffer because of it.”**

“Your Highness… are you saying that even if someone dear to you were part of that legend, you would not mind?”

**”What would trouble me is not the truth itself…

but the pain it might bring them.”**

Diana fell silent.

A man who would use even his own sibling for strategy—

Yet when it came to his people, he was endlessly kind.

Perhaps this was why he would one day accept Lillian without hesitation.

She gazed at Ersivan.

Did he even realize the weight of his own words?

To anyone else, it might sound like empty rhetoric.

But to Diana—

For just a fleeting moment, his words felt like a balm over a long-festering wound.

It was infuriating.

To feel even the slightest emotion toward someone she was supposed to fear.

“…Ersivan.”

Why?

She had spoken his name before she even realized it.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

**”You need not address me as ‘Your Highness.’

It feels far too formal.”**

“Then… should I call you Lord Valencia?”

“Valencia?”

“Your Highness—no, Lord Valencia—wait, that doesn’t seem to be what you want either.”

**”That’s not the issue.

You already called me by name, didn’t you?”**

By name?

…Ersivan?

The thought of saying it again was suddenly embarrassing.

Diana hesitated, lips parting and closing again.

Finally, she forced the words out.

“Ersivan…”

His name passed between them as naturally as the breeze, yet her cheeks burned.

Even such a simple act left her flustered.

“It sounds quite pleasant.”

His voice was smooth, but there was something unreadable in his expression.

“Though there is another name that might be even easier for you to say.”

“An easier name?”

Ersivan suddenly stepped closer.

The light shift in his posture cast a shadow over her face, making his towering height even more apparent.

“Evan.

How about that?”

A nickname.

One used only between those with a deep bond.

Had they truly reached that point?

She wasn’t in a position to refuse.

If Ersivan Valencia wanted this, there was no reason for her to object.

In fact, it was in her best interest to gain his favor.

So she complied.

“Evan.”

She looked up, as if to confirm that it was acceptable.

But his expression had shifted.

“…Your Highness?”

“Again.”

“…”

“Say it again.”

For the first time, his usually composed demeanor faltered.

He had tensed, as if bracing for something.

Even Ersivan Valencia, always so calm, could not completely mask his emotions.

So, she obliged.

“Evan.”

“…”

“Evan.”

She called his name three times in total, just as he had requested.

And then—

As she slowly lifted her gaze, he lowered his head.

His expression was hidden.

She could see nothing—

Except for the pale curve of his exposed throat, looking almost ghostly under the light.

The silence between them grew heavy.

At that moment, movement stirred ahead.

The shift in atmosphere was barely perceptible—

But Diana noticed it.

A large hand lifted, covering the lower half of his face.

And just between his fingers—

She caught a glimpse of something unexpected.

A smile.

He’s… smiling?

It wasn’t a mere smirk or a polite curve of the lips.

It was something deeper.

The kind of smile that left an imprint, lingering in one’s thoughts.

It unsettled her.

And then—

His voice, unexpectedly gentle, broke the silence.

“Then… what shall I call you?”

“You may call me Lily.”

“Lily.”

His voice, trailing off at the end, carried an odd hesitation.

Yet even that hesitation seemed effortlessly captivating.

**”I quite like it.

It makes us feel closer, doesn’t it?”**

His elegant fingers brushed lightly against his jaw, an absentminded motion—

Yet strangely sensual.

“Don’t you agree, Lily?”

His hand moved—

This time, gliding past the bridge of his nose, tracing toward his eyes.

And beneath his fingertips, his gaze curved into a smile.

“He was dangerous. But in an entirely different way.

It was as if he had an innate talent for ensnaring people.”

A passage from the novel surfaced in her mind.

**”If ever there was a true enchantress in this world…

It would be none other than Ersivan Valencia.”**