Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

On the fourth day, after finishing the morning classes, there were no classes in the afternoon—just free time.

Hestia sat on the edge of her bed, her hands pressed beneath her thighs as her feet swung gently. Her gaze occasionally drifted to the courtyard outside the window.

The room was hers alone—a rare moment of ease and leisure. She had no desire to go out but preferred to stay in her bedroom, perhaps even nap later.

Outside the window, the leaves rustled in the wind. The sky was overcast, and it looked like it was about to rain. Hestia, however, was in a good mood.

She didn’t dislike rain; in fact, she rather liked it. When the rain poured down in torrents, drumming against the ground, it was as if the entire world fell into a tranquil hush, leaving only the sound of raindrops splashing on the earth.

Rainwater gurgled as it flowed into the drains, carrying fallen leaves with it. Cats and dogs would shake their wet fur before curling up nearby to wait alongside her.

It was already September, Hestia realized, calculating the time in her head. Her birthday wasn’t far off—it was in November. In just two months, she would turn seventeen.

Life had been hectic lately, filled with adjustments to her new environment. She hadn’t written in her journal in a long time.

Remembering this, Hestia got off the bed, walked to her desk, sat on the hardwood chair, and took out her journal.

“September 7th, Overcast

Arrived at the new school, met some friends, remembered Dolores.

Life is slowly settling down. I think I like the rain a little.”

After jotting down these thoughts, she used her black pen to sketch an umbrella with three mushrooms beneath it. The drawing held no special meaning—it was just something she thought of and liked, so she added it.

Closing the journal, Hestia returned to her bed, hugged a pillow, and drifted into a nap. She figured she’d wake up when it started raining.

…

Evening, in the Rose Hall of Edess Academy.

The spacious hall had a lofty dome ceiling from which hung chandeliers that sparkled like intricately cut gemstones, casting a brilliant light that illuminated the entire space. Golden vine patterns adorned the dome’s interior, though not excessively, leaving enough blank space to avoid visual overwhelm.

Below, students in their freshman uniforms wandered through the hall. Some chatted with friends, others sat quietly at tables, and a few swayed to simple dances in the central dance floor.

This wasn’t a formal ball—students hadn’t dressed in gowns or other proper dance attire. The atmosphere was light and relaxed.

After several days together, the freshmen had grown somewhat familiar with one another. The hall was filled with laughter and conversation.

Hestia and Annelie didn’t arrive early. By the time they entered the hall, many students were already present. Due to Hestia’s speech earlier that week, most of the freshmen recognized her.

“Good evening, Thilan.”

“Good evening,” Hestia replied politely, nodding in greeting.

“Thilan!”

“You’re just arriving?”

“Would you like to dance?”

“Thank you, but I’ll pass for now.”

Maintaining courtesy, Hestia responded to her classmates’ greetings one by one as she walked deeper into the hall. A girl with pale pink hair approached, holding a glass of wine.

“Thilan, would you like to try some low-alcohol fruit wine? I recommend this ‘Romantic Sea Breeze.’ It’s made with orange juice and blue curaçao, giving it a green hue, then layered with ice, sparkling water, and a lemon slice. It’s not just beautiful—it tastes amazing!” The girl, with her hair tied in a side ponytail, enthusiastically introduced the drink in her hand.

“Thank you, Ranbell. I’ll have a glass,” Hestia replied.

“No problem, Thilan, just wait a moment.”

Ranbell walked over to the bar and gave instructions to the bartender. Before long, a glass of chilled, bubbling fruit wine was brought over.

“Could I have the same?” Annelie, curious about the wine, also made a request.

She had been staying close to Hestia most of the time, only separating occasionally.

The three of them sat in a corner of the hall with their drinks, watching the dance floor and the students mingling. Occasionally, they sipped their chilled fruit wine and chatted about their day.

“The environment at Edess Academy is pretty nice. I was worried I wouldn’t get used to it before I came,” Ranbell said casually, leaning against the table as she swirled her glass and took small sips.

Hestia sat slightly more upright, while Annelie seemed preoccupied with her personal terminal, paying little attention to the dance floor.

“It’s certainly well-equipped—almost extravagant,” Hestia remarked. Even the complimentary drinks here would cost over a thousand federation credits per glass outside.

“The decorations at Edess Academy actually remind me a lot of Saint Ingo Academy,” Ranbell said, glancing at the high dome ceiling. In such a spacious setting, even quiet conversations seemed to carry faint echoes. The soft clinking of porcelain and glass, combined with murmurs of conversation, created an oddly relaxing ambiance.

“Have you ever been to Saint Ingo Academy, Thilan?” Ranbell asked.

“Well… sort of. I visited part of it during a tour,” Hestia recalled.

“The first time I saw you, Thilan, you reminded me of someone.”

“I think I know who you’re referring to,” Hestia thought, realizing that such comparisons were inevitable.

Her sister had been a legend at Saint Ingo Academy years ago. Even now, nearly five years later, it was unsurprising that people still remembered her.

“She’s my sister, but I’d rather not talk about her,” Hestia said, shaking her head as she took another sip of her chilled fruit wine.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Ranbell said, her tone apologetic.

“You’re very strong, Thilan. I don’t think I could stay so calm if it were me.” Ranbell twirled a strand of hair around her finger, seeming to ponder how to make up for her earlier faux pas.

“Are you free during the next break? My family owns a castle in the Southern 4th District with beautiful scenery. Would you like to visit?”

“The next break should be in three days. I’ll be quite busy until then, but I might have time in mid-October,” Hestia replied, recalling her schedule.

“Then it’s settled! Come to my place in October. We can go boating, and there are lots of animals roaming the forest near the castle—they’re adorable,” Ranbell said excitedly.

“Alright,” Hestia nodded.

Annelie, seated nearby, seemed to notice the conversation only now. However, seeing that Hestia had already agreed, she decided not to object.

After the party ended, Hestia and Annelie left together. On their way back, Annelie finally brought up something she’d forgotten to mention earlier.

“Ranbell’s family background is a bit complicated. You should be cautious when visiting them.”

“Is it dangerous?” Hestia asked, puzzled.

“Well… not necessarily dangerous, but unpredictable,” Annelie explained after a moment of thought.

“The upper echelons of the Verdant Veil include federation officials, corporate executives, and even prominent figures like artists and celebrities. Ranbell’s family is unique—they’re part of an older lineage that rarely interacts with the outside world, so we know very little about them.”

“They’ve accumulated wealth over a long time and joined the Verdant Vail early on. However, they’ve always been conservative, keeping a low profile,” Annelie elaborated.

Many people had approached Hestia recently. While they seemed friendly on the surface, Annelie was too aware of the complexity within the Verdant Veil to trust anyone easily.

Had she not been visibly accompanying Hestia, deterring others with her presence, Hestia might already have faced various probes or even bullying.

“I understand,” Hestia nodded slightly.

Although she lacked in-depth knowledge of the Verdant Veil’s upper echelons, her innate talents as a songstress, combined with her professional training, made her highly perceptive to others’ emotions. She could tell that several of her newfound acquaintances had ulterior motives.

Such people weren’t necessarily malicious. Many were merely curious or saw no harm in befriending her. Only a few genuinely wanted to be her friend, and among them, Dolores stood out.

That was why Hestia had marked Dolores’s name in her journal.