While soldiers on the front lines fought to defend their homes and country, there were always people weighing how much their status and position could fetch.
This battle was no exception.
Yizi had a highly prestigious surname and an even more illustrious birth. On this island nation, perhaps at least 99 percent of families could not compare to the family regarded as Living Gods.
Yet though she had been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, she had only caught the tail end of her family's glory.
Over the half-century dominated by modern nations, most countries had not only discarded so-called imperial power, but had swept monarchs and feudal systems into the dustbin of history. In the memories of those "born noble," they had still been a privileged class decades ago. Now, even venting their temper on servants required them to carefully avoid phones and cameras. They were no different from the common folk.
A mascot, an "antique" proving that its people had history and culture—that was how the Sakurajima imperial family positioned itself both internally and externally.
But Yizi did not see it that way. Her youth had fallen at the end of Sakurajima's golden age. As a child, following her uncle, she had seen a militaristic nation at war. Back then, the imperial family had possessed true imperial authority. When she walked outside, the cheers, the heartfelt frenzy, and the tears had all become a past she was unwilling to leave behind.
But do not misunderstand. She had ultimately embarked on this path not to revive her family or that era, but because—
"I haven't had enough good days yet. How am I already old?"
Her once-lovely face had begun to show wrinkles. By her late thirties, the "Princess" could no longer bear it.
She could accept