I Treated the Crown Prince as a Substitute

When I found the amnesiac Crown Prince, he was squatting in the snow, gnawing on tree bark.

The day he recovered his memory, I was using the imperial jade seal to prop up a table leg.

At his coronation, he asked me in front of all the civil and military officials, “My beloved consort, what title would you like?”

With trembling hands, I pulled out a divorce agreement. “Um... could I apply for early retirement?”