Empress Seijin had never felt an affinity with the Forbidden City, that enclave of intrigue and power which, for most noble houses, was the epicenter of their existence. Her family, in contrast, had maintained a solid bond with the Origin Islands. Generation after generation, her lineage had refused to abandon their roots, even when the rest of the nobility had succumbed to the allure of the mainland lands.

That rebellious blood flowed unbreakable in her veins. She had come into the world and grown up in the peaceful outskirts of Kiorin, in the distant east. There, the family palace stood as a cheerful and clear refuge, a haven of natural beauty amidst an increasingly dark and corrupt political world.

In her land, cherry blossoms bloomed splendidly in spring, casting a blanket of delicate flowers that turned the fields white and pink, like a dreamy painting. Chrysanthemums, lilies, and camellias filled the gardens with their colors and fragrances in the different seasons of the year, creating a floral symphony that radiated life.

There, rivers meandered gently, reflecting the blue sky and distant mountains in their serene waters. Golden fish swam gracefully in clear and crystalline waters, while dragonflies danced above the surface, like guardians of the peace that reigned in that place.

In contrast, the Golden City, despite its grandiose name, rose before the empress as a nightmare scene, steeped in shadows and primitiveness. Beyond the Inner Walls, its narrow and winding streets stretched out like an oppressive labyrinth, flanked by high stone walls that cast endless shadows. Dust and dirt accumulated in corners, and the heavy, stale air was saturated with a stench of decay and dampness that enveloped those who ventured into its twisted alleys.

The buildings rose in chaotic architecture, as if the city itself had grown without a defined plan. Constructed with aged and worn materials, the buildings seemed ready to collapse at any moment. The curved rooftops struggled to hold up, and the wooden structures emitted constant groans and creaks. The golden paint that once had given its name to the city had faded and chipped away, leaving only a pale reminder of its former glory.

The population, for the most part, lived in deplorable conditions. Crowded into miserable dwellings, the citizens struggled to survive in a hostile environment. Misery and suffering were palpable in every corner, as the destitute crowded into alleys, begging for a handful of rice or a sip of water. Desperation was reflected in the eyes of those who had been abandoned by a broken and corrupt system.

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Even the Forbidden City, located in the heart of the imposing Inner Walls, with its grandiose and majestic facade, resulting from the remodel carried out by the first Taiko, did not escape the corruption and decay that afflicted the empire. Advisors and ministers, greedy for power and wealth, wove conspiracies in the shadows, concocting twisted plots in their relentless search for favor and supremacy at the expense of the empire and its troubled people.

Empress Seijin understood that, to bring about the desperately needed change in the empire, she had to confront the rot that infected its foundations. The first and most urgent task was to put an end to the epidemic of Baku’s Dream, which meant it was imperative to defeat Catay, the source of that lethal hallucinogenic drug that ravaged the empire.

But to go to war against those savages, something drastic would have to be done. Prince Yoshito was right; the elimination of the Taiko presented itself as an inescapable necessity. Despite the radical nature of this decision, it seemed to be the only way to take control of power and begin the vital reforms the empire so desperately needed.

A creak made her turn her head. There was her brother, leaning against the trunk of a tree, with that haughty and mocking smile that so irritated and attracted her. Although five years her junior, Kaito had risen to the rank of General Commander, partly because she had favored him before her husband, the emperor, before he died.

He was a tall and handsome man, of near supernatural beauty. His short black hair framed fine and delicate features, and his grey eyes shone with a mischievous intelligence. Among the courtisans of the palace, he was adored as a god of desire, and there were not a few who had succumbed to his charms.

“Kaito,” she greeted him softly, trying to hide the tremor of her lips.

“Sister,” he replied, looking up at her. His voice, mocking and challenging, had a childish tinge. “Where’s my little nephew?”

She diverted her gaze to the sky, where the clouds seemed to form whimsical shapes.

“With his nurses,” she replied, avoiding eye contact.

Kaito approached her, gliding like a shadow until he stood right behind her back. She felt his warm breath on her nape, and a shiver ran down her spine.

“Are you worried about something?” he asked, his lips brushing the lobe of her ear.

She turned sharply, piercing his eyes with hers.

“Kaito,” she said, grasping his shoulders. “You love me, right?”

His arrogant smile faded. For a moment, he seemed to waver, but then he nodded firmly.

“Of course, I love you, sister,” he replied, caressing her cheek tenderly. “You are the only thing that matters to me in this world.”

She hugged him tightly, feeling the beat of his heart against hers. After a few seconds, she stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear.

“Then, I need you to prove it to me.”

She could not afford to remain passive as corruption and decay threatened to destroy everything.

It was time to unleash a series of events that would change the fate of the empire.