When my son and I were exiled for my family's crimes, my husband shoved divorce papers into my hands and cut all ties. I pulled my nine-year-old close and swore I would protect him no matter what. However, at dawn, when we were supposed to leave, I found a different child in his place.

Panic flooded through me. Then, strange text flickered into view: [The male lead paid 50 silver for a street boy who looks vaguely similar. He sent his real son to live in luxury with his beloved!]

[This cannon fodder ex-wife will waste her life searching for her real son, who'll only resent her for ruining his comfortable new life.]

[Once the lead couple rises to power, she'll conveniently 'fall ill' and die. Tragic, really.]

[Wait. That street boy is the deposed crown prince's orphan. The future emperor!]

I stood there for a moment, taking it in. Then, I crouched down and held out my hand to the scarred child trembling before me. "Come with mom, little one. It's time to go."

The child froze. His eyes reddened as he cautiously took my hand.

"Mother?"

I gripped his cold fingers and offered no explanation. The strange text flickered before my eyes again.

[Why isn't this cannon fodder ex-wife following the script? Shouldn't she be making a scene about finding her real son?]

[They only look 50% alike. She really doesn't realize it? What an idiot!]

[No wonder the male lead divorced her. She's completely oblivious!]

I lowered my gaze. My chest felt like it was being carved open with a dull blade.

How could I not recognize the son I raised for nine years? However, if my husband and son had both chosen the path of wealth and comfort, what right did I have to force them back?

A year ago, my father was still the prime minister. He fell from grace when he insisted on defending the deposed crown prince, enraging His Majesty. He was stripped of his title and exiled 3,000 miles north.

His Majesty had only meant to punish him, but my father refused to stay quiet even in exile. He sent three petitions begging for the crown prince's reinstatement.

The Emperor's fury knew no bounds. An imperial decree followed. I was to take my son and join my father. As a mercy, I was permitted to travel freely without chains.

That same night, my husband, Minister Roland Sacchetti, handed me divorce papers. "Elise, my career has been without blemish. You can do nothing for me now. Don't drag me down with you."

Every word was ice. Every syllable cut to the bone.

I turned and went back inside to heat water and wash the child.

He was filthy. Beneath his threadbare clothes, his ribs showed clearly. New and old scars crisscrossed his back in a shocking web of pain.

Strings of words appeared once again:

[This boy is the deposed crown prince's orphan! His name is Adrian Powell!]

[Before the crown prince was imprisoned, he entrusted a loyal aide to smuggle the child out. The aide was killed. The boy ended up a beggar on the streets. His life has been hell!]

My breath caught. Then, I smoothed my expression and continued my work, dressing him in old clothes my son Theodore had left behind.

They were slightly too large, but better than the rags he had been wearing.

I studied him. Though his features were gaunt, I could see that he resembled my son Theodore by about half.

At dawn, I led Adrian to the city gate. The donkey cart was already waiting. There, of all the wretched luck, stood the people I least wanted to see.

Roland wore a brand-new embroidered coat. He stood beside an ornate carriage. Next to him stood Lady Quincey Spencer, draped in jewels. Theodore clutched the hem of her skirt, hiding behind her.

He did not even glance at me.

When Roland saw me, he frowned and stepped forward.

"Elise, I see you know what's best for the boy. Good. Don't make trouble. Go quietly to your exile, and everyone will be better off."

My nails dug into my palms.

I looked down at Adrian beside me and smiled gently. My voice was soft. "Come, little one. Time to go."

Behind me, Theodore's clear voice rang out. "Mother!"

I stiffened. Then, I realized he was not calling me.

"Mother, when are we going to the jeweler's?"

He was calling Lady Quincey.

I did not turn around. I only tightened my grip on Adrian's hand. He looked up at me without speaking and squeezed my hand even harder.

[Strange. This cannon fodder ex-wife really does seem different now...]

The donkey cart jolted along the main road.

I held Adrian in my arms, shielding him from the biting wind. His body was stiff and motionless. "Your name is Theo. Remember that, all right?"

The small body in my arms trembled slightly. He lifted his head. His eyes were red-rimmed as he nodded hard. This child was unnervingly perceptive for his age.

When we stopped to rest, he went to gather firewood without being asked. His movements were practiced.

I built the fire. He quietly broke our rations into smaller pieces and handed them to me on a leaf.

"Mother, eat first."

His voice still held a childish lilt, but his tone was steady.

Text drifted past:

[This kid is a hundred times more thoughtful than her real son.]

[The deposed crown prince taught him himself. He could recite the classics at three. What a waste.]

I accepted the food. My throat felt tight. As I sat there, more words appeared.

[The female lead is hand-feeding real Theodore pastries right now. How doting.]

[She complained to her confidant that childbirth is too painful. She doesn't want to suffer through it. Perfect timing that the male lead sent his son over. A ready-made child, how convenient.]

[The male lead spoils the female lead so much. He's waiting on her hand and foot.]

I closed my eyes.

Years ago, Roland was a penniless scholar. Father had admired his talent and taken him under his wing. We met and got married. A year ago, Father was convicted and exiled.

Roland met Lady Quincey. He began to find me dull and awkward. He said my family had fallen too far, that I could never measure up to her.

That night, we stayed at a shabby roadside inn. Adrian fell asleep quickly, though his small brow remained furrowed.

I could not sleep.

Words suddenly flashed frantically:

[Holy hell! The female lead sent people to 'teach the supporting character a lesson!']

[They want her to have an 'accident' on the road. Ideally, she'll fall ill and die! They're almost at the inn!]

My heart clenched. A chill swept through me.

I shook Adrian gently. "Theo, wake up."

His eyes opened instantly. There was no grogginess in those dark eyes, only sharp alertness.

"Bad people are coming. We have to leave now," I said quickly.

He asked no questions, then climbed up briskly and helped me pack our meager belongings.

We led the donkey cart away from the inn without a sound, slipping into the dark and turning onto a rough side road.

Text scrolled past:

[Damn, this supporting character is pretty sharp and alert. She actually got away?

[Starting to respect this cannon fodder ex-wife. She really is the prime minister's daughter and not someone to underestimate.]

I let out a breath and kept the cart moving. We traveled for what felt like hours. Adrian's steps began to falter. I stopped and lifted him onto the cart, letting him lean against me. He was so tired his eyelids drooped, but he still fought to stay awake.

Half asleep, his small hand clutched at my sleeve. He murmured faintly, "Mother, when I grow up, I'll protect you."

My throat tightened. I pulled his thin shoulders close. "All right."

After months of hard travel, we finally reached the desolate exile settlement in the northern frontier. Father lived in two crumbling earthen rooms. He was hoeing the yard when we arrived.

When he saw me, the hoe fell from his hands with a clatter. His weathered face flushed red. His lips trembled. "Elise, I am so sorry... I brought this on you..."

I shook my head and gently pushed Adrian forward.

Father's gaze settled on the child. He studied him carefully. Tears welled in his eyes. "Theo... you've grown so much. You're so thin. You've suffered..."

He reached out to touch Adrian's head.

Adrian instinctively shifted to the side and looked at me.

I took his cold little hand and smiled at Father. "Father, Roland has divorced me. The three of us are on our own now."

Father froze. Then, he let out a long sigh. He crouched down and said gently, "Come here, Theo. Grandfather just wants to get a good look at you."

Text drifted past:

[The former prime minister still doesn't know his grandson was switched. Poor man.]

[Though if he finds out his real grandson is calling someone else his mother now, he'd probably drop dead from rage.]

The days passed like this.

Father took up his books again and taught Adrian to read and write himself. He quickly discovered the child not only had a flawless memory but could draw connections between concepts with ease.

Sometimes, the insights Adrian offered required even Father to pause and think.

"Remarkable! Truly remarkable!" Father's eyes lit up in a way I had not seen in a long time.

Adrian sat quietly, writing with careful strokes.

[Adrian really is the future emperor. His intelligence is on another level.]

[If the old man knew this was the imperial grandson, he'd probably upgrade his lessons to emperor-level tutoring on the spot.]

I cleared the wasteland behind the house and planted hardy vegetables.

After Adrian finished writing, he crouched by the stove to help me tend the fire.

When I was washing clothes, he would silently bring over a small stool. When I mended, he would bring me warm water.

The comments gradually changed:

[The supporting character's life is... more comfortable than it was in the capital.]

[I'm starting to think the male lead is a bit ungrateful, spurning such a gentle woman.]

Their way of referring to me changed from 'cannon fodder ex-wife' to 'Ms. Cadwell'.

I smiled faintly.

One day, I saw more strings of words.

[The male lead officially married Lady Quincey. What a grand ceremony.]

[The real son's identity was changed, and the lady is raising him as her own now.]

[The family of three is perfectly happy. They've completely forgotten about Ms. Cadwell.]

I was mending clothes when the needle pricked my finger. A bead of blood welled up.

Adrian appeared in front of me. He handed me a handkerchief, his dark eyes full of concern. "Mother, does it hurt?"

I took the handkerchief and shook my head, smiling at him. "Not at all."

The text went quiet for a moment, then jumped again.

[The Emperor's health has been poor lately. He keeps dreaming of the deposed crown prince…]

[Back then, the crown prince was deposed because when the fifth prince tried to assassinate the Emperor, the crown prince was too forceful in protecting him and crippled the fifth prince. The Emperor condemned him for not caring about his own brother.]

[Actually, the Emperor regretted it almost immediately. He just couldn't bring himself to admit it.]

My mending slowed. I sat lost in thought.

…

A year passed, and Adrian had grown taller. His gaze became even more composed. Father taught him everything he knew, and Adrian learned with astonishing speed.

One day, I was watching him practice his writing. Without warning, words exploded.

[Breaking news! The crown prince has died of illness! The Emperor coughed up blood from grief!]

[The Emperor issued a decree to reinstate the crown prince posthumously!]

[So now the key is finding the imperial grandson! The commander of the Imperial Guards is personally leading the search!]

[Minister Sacchetti is accompanying him by imperial order! They're coming to the exile settlement to search!]

The book slipped from my hand and landed on the paper with a smack.

Adrian looked up. His clear eyes held a question. "Mother, what's wrong?"

I took a deep breath and crouched down to meet his eyes.

"Adrian, you're ten years old now. You're nearly grown. Remember everything your grandfather has taught you this past year. Every lesson. Every word. No matter what happens, I'll be by your side."

He looked at me. It seemed he could read the gravity of an approaching storm in my eyes. Then he nodded solemnly.

"Mother, I will."

…

Two months later, the sound of hooves shattered the quiet of the desolate village.

Roland dismounted.

He wore a freshly tailored coat with polished buttons and fine leather boots. He looked far more respectable than he had a year ago.

When he saw me pulling weeds in the vegetable garden, a flicker of false concern crossed his face.

"Elise, it's only been a year, and you've... fallen so far."

Theodore followed behind him, dressed in fine clothes. He was plump and rosy-cheeked. He looked at me. His gaze was distant and complicated.

I stood and brushed the dirt from my hands. "I'm doing well. Is there something you need, Minister Sacchetti?"

Roland stepped closer and lowered his voice.