If someone like me—a little girl barely able to stand—is an Angel, even a three-year-old wouldn’t believe it.

And now they expect this physically weak me to fight a Crimson Dragon? What a joke.

No, forget the dragon fight for a moment. Doesn’t she realize I’m weaker than an ordinary child? That these wings on my back are just useless decorations—too sensitive to fly with, let alone anything else…

Suddenly, it hit me: I should probably tell the person in front of me that I’m just a normal little girl with wings. Maybe, out of disappointment, she’d kindly break the Contract and set me free.

"N-no… Yiyi isn’t an Angel. Let go of Yiyi… please let go… don’t… Yiyi isn’t… don’t make a Contract with Yiyi!"

I hated to admit it, but under the Contract’s influence, my voice came out unnaturally weak—like a child whining. It held zero conviction.

But… wait…

As soon as those words left my lips, I recalled what she’d said when sealing the Contract.

A chilling thought struck me: What if they discover their long-awaited Angel is just a frail little girl? Would they be so furious they’d…

I shivered. The Contract’s power made fear coil inside me, whispering warnings: *Disappointing the master brings punishment. Never disappoint the master.*

Before me, her eyes—dark as the night sky—locked onto my face, making my heart race. No… why am I scared over something like this…

"Yiyi…"

Through her clear pupils, I saw my own reflection—eyes brimming with tears, a mist clinging to them. When had I look so panicked? I squeezed my eyes shut, but that only made me seem weaker.

No. I can’t be like this.

My lips pressed tight. A wave of humiliation washed over me. Just as confusion clouded my mind, her scent filled my nose, muddling my thoughts further. Deep down, an urge to snuggle into my master’s arms and seek comfort flickered.

But all I could do was press myself harder against the cold wall behind me.

"Repeat after me: ‘By my name’s plea, Frost Arrow.’"

Just as I stood frozen, lost, her voice reached my ear. Almost instinctively, the Contract compelled me to echo her in a tiny, trembling whisper:

"By my name’s plea, Frost Arrow."

"Your Highness, casting magic requires full concentration beyond just chanting the incantation. If you only recite the words, the effect won’t—" The maid named Miel’s lecture cut off into a gasp.

What happened…?

Before I could process her shock, I felt something connect with me—no, like a new limb I could suddenly control. And that wasn’t all. The room’s temperature plummeted instantly.

*Does this place have a voice-activated air conditioner that kicks in when people gasp?* Even modern AC couldn’t chill a room this fast. Let alone in a world where AC might not even exist…

Curious, I opened my eyes.

What I saw shattered my understanding completely.