Years had passed since I became my Mistress’ ‘Lily’.

  She helped me understand what was happening in the world and our country, showed me numerous different experiences and helped me reintegrate into society, for what a forsaken, failed ‘Lily’ could.

  We were almost inseparable, even going to the bathroom together.

  She often spent hours dressing me up and reintegrating me into ‘how to look like a woman’. It was quite a lot of fun, I have to admit. If only the stylish choices she came up with didn’t restrict my movements so much, I’d have loved to wear them the entire day.

  I despised the dreaded high heels and the restrictive skirts the most.

  I wasn't required to do any form of training, but I had to keep my fighting ability and physical strength when I needed them to defend my Mistress. I occasionally trained my aim with the guards. They also advised me about firearms, modifications and positioning.

  The physical training and running weren’t as intense as they were when I was younger, but they were more than enough to maintain my form.

  On the other hand, the combat was harder to come by – no one from the staff wanted to spar with me. The head butler was an exception, but given his tight schedule, he rarely could entertain my plea.

  I never managed to defeat him. Most of my current refined combat skills are thanks to his guidance, but they paled in comparison to his.

  Occasionally, I had to beat up the representative of males who were asking to marry my Mistress. I felt like I was bullying them. They were so weak.

  They weren't bad fighters per se, but compared to the fights I had to face and survive, they lacked the determination and willingness to risk their life for victory.

  My life’s meaning was to serve my Mistress. Dying for her was something I gladly would do.

  “Your proposal… I’ll have to decline it. I cannot marry someone who’s weaker than my aide,” was the excuse she usually used and had me fight them.

  There is no need to doubt that I always won.

  We sometimes went to see Leonard and Richard or vice versa. They had less wealth and amenities than my Mistress, but lived decent lives.

  I could feel that they had a thing or two for my Mistress. Especially Leonard was head over heels. Richard was able to hide it better.

  Both of them had decided to become Mercenaries and often travelled around the country. When we came together, Leo loved to boast about their exploits.

  During the years, I told my Mistress little by little every night what had happened to me and the other girls.

  It was like telling her a bedtime story. It was her way of getting to know me better, allowing me to let all the pain I withheld within me during the hard years.

  The times she heard about what was going on in the “exhibition”, during the night “invitations” from the supervisors or what I vaguely remembered from my last “exam”, she had a face of shock, disgust and, for the last one, she hugged me tightly while my head was in her chest.

  The day when she informed me of what was actually happening and clarified why it was important, I realised something.

  Males must die!

  How dare those fucking pigs do that?! Do they think with their dicks?!

  I sometimes had to escort her around an undead-infested area while the military and Mercenaries were neutralising it.

  The nation had begun to win the fight against the undead in its territory. When a nest was discovered near a settlement, it was a top priority that was dealt with within five days.

  Due to the relatively high status of my Mistress and being a woman, someone who was eventually going to be forced to produce other humans, she was rarely in danger.

  In fact, she had yet to see an undead in the wild. Yet to see how those monsters tear humans with their teeth and eat them.

  The position of the aristocrats required additional clarification. It was more complicated than what I studied.

  Before the infection, the title often followed the place the aristocrat ruled. However, now, as a way to distinguish the new from the old, a name or surname is followed. It depended on the aristocrat’s preference.

  My Mistress’ father preferred the use of his surname.

  The aristocratic ladies were seen as “pleasure toys” or “baby-making factories”. The more children, the better. A family was supposed to have at least three children, whether from the main wife or a concubine, unless there was a strong excuse.

  Dickheads will be dickheads anywhere.

  My Mistress was an only child. Her mother died and neither she nor her father wanted another woman in their lives.

  The senior staff from the mansion said the two of them never overcame their loss. Her graveyard is filled with flowers and the maids care for it every day.

  Her daughter and husband went to her grave once. Afterwards, they didn’t have the strength to go back and remember the times when she was alive.

  They said that my Mistress cried herself to sleep when the grave was made and dreamed about her mother the entirety of the following week. She didn’t want to eat and they worried about her.

  It’s a sad story, the details of which only the family head and the head butler knew, but neither spoke of.

  I found the family head’s loyalty to his late wife to be admirable. However, after her death, he couldn’t look their only child in the eyes. He neglected my Mistress and focused on the project his wife led.

  I found him admirable because a male aristocrat could have a concubine or two and no one would have a problem with that. The more people they had to reproduce with, the better.

  However, only the children from the main wife could inherit the titles. No exceptions.

  As for how the titles were given… Here comes the complicated part.

  At the start of the outbreak, the world went into chaos.

  The nobility was initially useless and the nation was in crisis. The King and Queen of the country failed to solve this ordeal and lost their lives at some point.

  The nation was about to be overrun by the undead, but a group of people somehow managed to fight them off, making the war manageable. They made the hard decision to sacrifice millions of people to save millions of people.

  The same group became the first new aristocrats.

  The nation lost significant power, resources and population, but after the first decade, a stalemate occurred, with neither side being able to overpower the other.

  Half a decade before the current Monarch ascended to the throne, the human side began to overpower the infection. With the rule of the current Monarch, the undead are mostly annihilated within our country.

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  The first Monarch from the new aristocracy was the leader who saved the country and made the greatest contribution. He abdicated five years ago and chose the current Monarch.

  It is said that the first Monarch was nearing his 80s this year, while the new one looks younger than 30. The gossip my Mistress heard said he was single.

  Titles aren’t given just for being born into a family – they are a fruit of one’s hard work. Even beggars could get a title if they prove themselves.

  For a commoner to become an aristocrat, they have to perform a worthy deed and need at least one of the aristocrats, excluding the barons, as they have no such rights, to give their permission and support.

  As for climbing higher in the aristocratic ladder, the situation is similar, but the requirements are more demanding.

  Deeds and approval, but the approval needs to be from two or more tiers above the person’s current rank.

  For example, if a viscount had done enough deeds, he needed a marquess or higher to give approval.

  Only if someone had to be elevated from marquess to duke, a majority vote between the other dukes would have happened.

  Only the Monarch could promote someone to Duke without having to discuss it, but even he had to keep the nobility partially content. He risked a revolt otherwise.

  The possibility of losing status as a noble also existed.

  That happens on some rare occasions – mainly when botching something important or betraying the country.

  I fear that no matter how much I try to defend my Mistress from the unfair fate this society forced upon her, those evil males will get her eventually.

  I’ll do my best to keep her pure!

  I have to admit that there were occasions when she went somewhere without my escort for a day or two.

  She didn’t take me in there because I might be treated as an object and some might try to… be males with me…

  Most aristocrats think they could do whatever they wanted with me.

  In public, we had to maintain our master-servant relationship and even if something was making me uncomfortable, my Mistress would have had to let it be.

  Even if I were ready to kill them, I’d only do so if she told me to or if they dared to force my Mistress.

  Doing so would have brought penalties to both my Mistress and her family, whether I did it of my own accord or I were ordered to do so, unless there was a good reason that forced me to defend my Mistress.

  Luckily, such an occasion never happened.

  I wasn’t pleased with the order and insisted that I could endure the humiliation, but she insisted that she’d be fine and didn’t want me to be subject to insults.

  If she could, she wouldn’t attend those gatherings, but it was her due as a lady without a spouse to be on display. Most ladies marry before the age of 22 or are at least betrothed.

  This was why I agreed to stay in the mansion. I couldn’t disagree with her order, but her plea for my well-being was also making me feel appreciated.

  Still, when she had to go out unguarded, just having two of the mansion’s guards with her, I was so anxious about something happening to her that I had to do anything to pass the time!

  My most frequent activities were training and reading books from the family’s library.

  There were also some documents hidden here and there. Once I saw a troubling document…

  My Mistress didn’t disappoint me and kept her promise.

  Every year, she organised a birthday party for me on 14th October. All of the mansion’s staff congratulated me on that day. It made me happy.

  The first time, they almost made me cry from happiness.

  I also managed to understand the meaning of the colours of the lily on my back.

  Colourless, also known as ‘White Lily’ or ‘Madonna Lily’, is the first time we are marked with the accursed tattoo. It is a symbol that we were without a master and in training.

  Orange, also known as ‘Fire Lily’, meant we are guardians of our mistress. Only we, the females, could do so to other females.

  Red, also known as ‘Flame Lily’, is used to convey that we are a male’s toy and an object for “baby-making”. Such ‘Lilies’ are one of the most sought-after concubines.

  They are considered failures and are taken in for their superior genes and stronger bodies. Their only goals are to please their master's lustful desires and to give birth to healthier candidates to become a ‘Lily’ or a ‘Rose’.

  The last one is dark – ‘Black Lily’.

  They endure additional training after graduation to become stronger.

  They serve in the military and are recognised for their high combat abilities.

  They fight on the frontlines, are part of special units, guard very important people from the country or perform crucial long missions on their own.

  All ‘Liles’ can turn into black ones, but there aren’t many examples of that happening. There aren’t many ‘Lilies’ to begin with.

  I myself am a bearer of a ‘Fire Lily’.

  I was also part of the official third generation of ‘Lilies’. It was called Generation C.

  We were selected a few years before the incident with Generation Zero, the first attempt at creating us and our male version.

  Initially, we were supposed to grow a bit and combine with the third official generation or ‘Roses’, but…

  After the incident, most people wanted to discard the idea of our creation and the continuation of the project was put into consideration.

  The information that three other generations were already in production and that more were planned was kept hidden. After a few years, when the tension calmed down, the first Monarch gave a decree to resume the program.

  In the meantime, he continued to build more facilities for more generation.

  This had a massive backlash among a part of the nobility, especially the hidden continuation of the project, but after the display of might the few survivors from Generation Zero showed while fighting undead and other skilled warriors, most agreed on their worth and gave them another chance.

  The hate and fear still lingered.

  There wasn’t a standard when my training began. I don’t know if there is one yet.

  Until a set standard appears, every generation operates differently. The statistics showed that in the first few generations, from 100 ‘Lilies’ per generation, fewer than 10 survived.

  The current goal is to have 30 survivors per generation, with at least 10 becoming ‘Black Lilies’. In reality, the survivors are fewer than 20.

  In my case, only five survived.

  I also knew the origins of the ‘Lilies’.

  We were illegitimate or unwanted children of male aristocrats.

  Usually, our mothers were from low birth, but sometimes even from concubines if the number of children was already large. Maybe even children specially produced from ‘Flame Lilies’ are already subject to becoming ‘Lilies’.

  I hated to show my stigma to anyone but Mary. She allowed me to hide it, for which I thank her. No one from the staff discriminated against me and we showed mutual respect to one another.

  Normally, non-combat, also known as domestic, ‘Lilies’ are supposed to show their mark for all to see without explicit order from their master when they are within our country’s domain.

  How vile.

  One night, after a bath and dressing up, my Mistress gave me an … interesting order.

  “Lily.”

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to remove your clothes from above your waist and lie on the bed on your belly,” she said, her cheeks slightly red.

  I, on the other hand, was speechless. What was she intending to do?

  “Wha…”, I was about to ask, but didn’t finish.

  I did as my Mistress commanded. I don’t need to know ‘why’. I only have to ‘do’ as I’m told to.

  By then, I knew that for a child to be created, a man and a woman had to spend a night together while also discarding any resemblance of wear, but certain details were missing from my knowledge.

  I remember asking my Mistress what would happen if two women had spent a night together when they wore no clothes.

  She replied that nothing would happen and to never ask such strange questions again.

  She had her index and middle fingers going downwards from the back of my neck along the curve of my spine.

  I felt strange and I think I made strange sounds once or twice. It was a feeling I had experienced only when C11 had kissed me and played with my… groin.

  What was my Mistress doing? Was she intending to make me experience what C11 proposed for the two of us to do?

  I regret not allowing C11 to continue… It would have been one of our last memories together…

  I had a vague idea of what males did with women, but no idea about what women did with one another.

  Was my Mistress going to show what two women do when spending the night together when the fabric is unnecessary?

  She stopped moving her fingers when they were around my tailbone, touching part of my undergarment.

  I was in a bit of a trance and wasn’t wary of my surroundings. I surrendered myself to her.

  She also removed her clothes above the waist and leaned on my back, hugging me.

  I felt her pleasant softness and warmth, but soon, her tears fell on my skin.

  “Mistress?” I turned my head enough to look at her.

  Her eyes were filled with pure tears that were going down her cheeks and falling on me.

  “They did all that… and you don’t know what they even did to you. How vile… how pathetic of them… poor you. You didn’t deserve something like this… Neither one of you did…”

  We went to sleep after a while, my face between her bare chest.

  This was the same night I told her about my final “exam”.

  The next day, she explained to me everything and since that day, I acquired my hate towards the opposite gender.

  From time to time, we went out disguised to see how the commoners were doing.

  We wore clothes that even I would consider to be dirty rags. We also had to dirty our faces with earth to make our disguise realistic.

  My Mistress even had to wear something to reduce the bustiness of her breasts. They were too developed for someone of low birth, unless the woman had recently given birth and had to feed her children.

  I kept a firearm with me. It was for my Mistress’ protection.

  What I saw was a place of trash trying their best to survive, giving most of their production to the nobility, with close to nothing left for them to survive. They were slaves in everything but name.

  Still, they lived, no matter how pathetically. Something most ‘Lilies’ couldn’t.

  Unlike me, my sheltered Mistress wasn’t used to the hard and merciless reality of life and felt pity for them.

  Still, all she could have done was to spectate and pity them. She couldn’t do anything to help them nor reduce their burden.

  Those sights had a big impact on my Mistress.

  Maybe they were one of the reasons why we undertook this journey?