"Um... if it's alright, may I ask why the prince is investing so much in me?"

A chilly breeze slipped through the window, carrying floral scents that sent nearby curtains fluttering like rustling leaves. I lifted my head slightly, watching the maids before me—their faces suddenly stiffening.

Strange. Why did they all freeze like that? Did I say something wrong? Was this question too naive? Did everyone here value Contract Beasts that much?

Or... was this a forbidden topic? Did the prince’s Contract with me hide some unspeakable secret?

"So adorable... and that soft voice."

"Look at those eyes—like a teary-eyed little fawn. She’s staring right at you!"

Their words made me realize my question itself had been a mistake.

Thankfully, the maids snapped out of their daze when they caught a trace of displeasure in my gaze. The younger one cleared her throat. "Because you’re cute *and* capable. Of course the prince would invest heavily. You’re his only hope."

"Mhm! Sweetie, did you know?" the other chimed in. "The prince worried you’d feel cramped, so he turned this huge double room into a single just for you. I’m so jealous!"

*Cute and capable...* I pushed past the adjectives. "Only hope" had snagged my attention.

"Um, this might be sudden—but what does ‘only hope’ have to do with me?"

"Aww, that dazed look is precious!"

"Listen, little one," the younger maid leaned in. "The prince needs an *exceptionally* powerful Contract Beast for the Throne Struggle."

*Exceptionally powerful?* My mind reeled. What did that have to do with someone like me—a frail girl who couldn’t even fight a monkey? Unless this Throne Struggle was a pet beauty contest... then maybe my pink wings stood a chance.

"But... can she really beat the Third Princess?" the younger maid murmured doubtfully. "She’s adorable, yes, but the Third Princess’s Contract Beast is—"

"Nonsense," the older maid cut in firmly. "The prince *will* prevail. She’s just young. His Contract Beast will be the strongest."

I stayed silent, studying them. A strange, almost tragic determination colored their words—surely my imagination. Yet from their tone, and the prince’s earlier words, they clearly believed I was some mighty beast... not this tiny girl. If they discovered my weakness, would they abandon me? Or worse—would that master of mine break me first?

"You’ll become the strongest for your master, won’t you?"

A warm hand suddenly ruffled my hair, tickling my scalp. The word "*master*" pierced my thoughts.

Before I could stop myself—cursed by this damn Contract—I nodded. "Yes... I’ll help my master become the strongest."

Regret hit me instantly, but their hopeful stares glued the words to my tongue.

"Such a good girl! Open up for fruit~"

"No fair! You fed her last time! My turn—open wide, sweetie. Let me pet those pink wings~ So cute~"

"... ..."

"Sweetie, ignore her. One bite from me, *one* wing-pat."

"... ..."