Miss Witch Doesn’t Want to Become a Songstress

A new day began as Hestia once again donned her black-and-white maid outfit and busied herself in the shop. Compared to her initial awkwardness, she had now become quite adept at handling many of her tasks.

After the lunchtime rush subsided, her section of the counter quieted down, marking the start of her break.

“I’ll take my break now, Seere-sis,” she said to the maid still focused on crafting tea beverages behind the counter.

Seere: The 70th demon of Solomon’s 72 Demons, a noble prince commanding 26 legions, subordinate to the King of the East. Traditionally depicted as a handsome man riding a winged steed.

Hestia knew her senior well enough to understand that, when immersed in tea preparation, Seere might not notice her for half an hour unless directly addressed.

“Oh, Dantalion, you’re back. Sorry, I didn’t notice earlier. Go ahead and take your break; I’ll handle the rest here,” Seere replied.

This senior maid, who looked about her mid-20s, had shoulder-length, thick black hair adorned with leaf-shaped hairpins. Her maid uniform, black and white with green accents, exuded a gentle elegance.

The counter Seere managed specialized in teas and pastries. Her expertise spanned green tea, black tea, floral teas, oolong, and even herbal blends. She paired these with delicate cookies and confections, catering to women hosting small gatherings.

Recently, Hestia had been assisting Seere by preparing ingredients and baking cookies. As Hestia was about to leave, Seere called her back.

“Here, take this. I’m guessing you didn’t eat properly again this afternoon. Have some cookies,” she said, handing over a small paper box filled with freshly baked treats.

T4-grade Red Berry Cookies (Excellent): Made with royal strawberries, verdant cranberry jam, and dawn flour. They provide good satiety, partial nutrition, and a calming effect with minimal supernatural essence. Loved by those avoiding weight gain or struggling with appetite.

“This…” Hestia hesitated.

While consuming shop food occasionally was acceptable, using T4-grade ingredients so freely felt extravagant. Unlike the more common T5-grade supplies, T4-grade materials were rarely treated casually.

“It’s fine. These are part of the standard loss. We usually handle them ourselves,” Seere reassured her, placing the box firmly in Hestia’s hands.

“I usually make 30 batches of cookies daily, with one or two turning out less than perfect. We don’t serve those to customers and eat them ourselves instead.”

“Couldn’t you sell them at a discount?” Hestia asked, curious. Even Seere’s so-called “imperfect” cookies would fetch a high price outside, easily several hundred federation coins per box.

“Not an option. Discounting would cheapen the store’s image, making us seem stingy and desperate,” Seere explained, recalling the manager’s instructions. “Our premium pricing relies on maintaining a luxurious atmosphere and reputation. Discounting simply isn’t worth it.”

“I see…” Hestia accepted the cookies, thanked Seere, and waved goodbye.

Watching Hestia leave, Seere murmured to herself.

“She’s been here nearly a month. It might be time for her to manage her own station.”

…

In the afternoon, Hestia continued her violin practice in the vine-covered greenhouse. Today, she focused on refining her playing and studying the details of the score with Amdusias’s guidance.

Time passed quietly. Occasionally, Amdusias would take the violin to demonstrate, transforming from her usual calm self into a radiant figure. Watching her, Hestia forgot her original intent to study technique, only snapping out of it when Amdusias finished playing.

Seeing Hestia’s dazed expression, Amdusias found it both amusing and endearing. She patiently demonstrated again, breaking down the steps this time for easier understanding.

“It’s been ages since I played like this. I couldn’t resist today,” Amdusias remarked as their session ended.

“Were you a professional violinist before?” Hestia asked.

“For a time, yes, though I primarily played the cello. That was about 20 years ago,” Amdusias replied, reminiscing.

“Wait, 20 years ago?” Hestia’s eyes widened.

“That’s right. Didn’t Belphegor tell you? I’m an elf,” Amdusias said, brushing aside her golden hair to reveal her long, pointed ears.

“Elves age differently from humans, living about three times as long. By human standards, I’m 27,” she explained.

“A proper big sister, then,” Hestia mused, calculating Amdusias’s age. Her thoughts didn’t escape Amdusias’s notice, who lightly knocked her on the head.

“Don’t impose human standards on me! I’m still very young,” Amdusias chided.

“Got it, Amdusias-sis,” Hestia apologized, then curiously began asking about elves and their culture.

“There aren’t many elves in the Verdant Veil anymore. Where have most of them gone?” she inquired.

“Most moved to the central star systems. Others who prefer solitude ventured to frontier regions,” Amdusias explained. “My great-grandfather was among the first to settle the Verdant Veil. Back then, they purified the atmosphere with purple-red microbes, spread algae to color the seas, and cultivated vegetation to create soil. It took 180 years, but in the end, he witnessed the birth of a lush green planet. He named it Verdant Veil for its forested hills and fields resembling a layered, flowing gown.”

Indeed, only elves could exhibit such patience and dedication to terraforming barren worlds. Their long lifespans made them natural pioneers, even in the modern Federation. Despite their small numbers, elves continued to play a crucial role in colonizing remote planets.