Chapter Text
The evening is atypically quiet in the heart of the Republic, but perhaps that’s because Espresso’s room is situated on the top floor. All the hustle and bustle of its cookiezen and carriages have been completely drowned out by the distance between his room and the ground floor alone.
He had been given a suite with a view that overlooks the city’s grand architecture, it’s one of best rooms they could offer in this lofty hotel.
Yet Espresso cannot find it in him to enjoy the generous accommodation.
The last few minutes have been spent on checking his appearance in the mirror, the evening sky is darkening and so he must make haste.
His capelet gown is long and dark, nary a single crease or fold in sight. He pulls at the high collar, ensuring it isn’t too constricting around his neck. The cape itself nearly touches the ground, but he finds that his arms are still able to move freely despite the heaviness of its weight, nor do the extra layer of sheer chiffon wrapped around his arms hinder his movements.
Latte wasn’t kidding when she said it’s made to order.
Truly speaking, Espresso could go without the excessive silver embroidery. The intricate stitching and bead work of coffea flowers around his shoulders are beautiful, that he cannot deny. But he worries for a moment that he’ll stand out too much and end up stealing Latte’s attention from the guests.
Speaking of which...
He picks up a flat box that’s been laying on a nearby chair along the way to the room’s adjoining door. It’s about time he pays tonight’s most important character a visit.
Their respective bedroom is separated by a folding door, it is shut at the moment but not locked. Even with the wooden barrier between them, Espresso can hear her humming. He gives the door a slight push and peers into the crack, catching a glimpse of lilac flash by.
Latte’s side of the suite comes with a spacious dressing room and a walk in closet, its most prominent feature is the floor length mirror. It’s large and wide, decorated with a heavy golden frame.
Espresso’s eyes glances over to the polished surface, where in the reflection, he sees Latte’s tall form swaying in circles.
She is draped in chiffon and tulle, her long hair is loose and swaying along with the momentum of her spinning like that of a silk ribbon.
He eases the door open and steps in. “Someone’s giddy.”
His voice immediately brings Latte back from whatever euphorically blissful state she was in. Her twirling comes to an abrupt stop, and her puffy tulle skirt floats back down. Her eyes are bright and jubilant upon seeing Espresso.
“Oh, hello there! Done already?” She gets a curt nod in return.
Latte pats down the sides of her dress, tittering as she does. “I hope I didn’t disturb you. I just couldn’t sit still, all the excitement is getting to me I think.”
She moves away from the mirror and glides towards her companion, the hem of her dress brushing against the carpeted floor.
“I’m just so... ecstatic for tonight! I still can’t believe Parfaedia’s executives were kind enough to host this party.”
Espresso offers her a little smile, just a slight quirk of his lips, before walking over to the vanity where he picks up a hair brush and puts down the box in his hand. He gestures for Latte to sit down, and she starts padding towards the dresser chair before plopping down. The thick ruffled fabric of her dress bunching around her waist.
“They didn’t have to do any of this but... not saying I’m not glad that they did! I just wasn’t expecting something so extravagant from them, you know?”
Espresso chuckles as he starts brushing her hair. “As a gift for your engagement with Almond Cookie no less.”
“Seems he’s made quite the impression on them!” Latte lets out an easy laugh. “Parfaedia’s favourite commissioner~”
She sounds so dreamy, her voice is airy and she looks positively glowing. Espresso doubts that’s the work of the special body shimmer she used for her bath tonight. Yet despite all the giddiness, all the condensed energy that she’s holding in--he can see that she’s still nervous, if her incessant pinching and pulling at her skirt is anything to go by.
“Stop that, you’re going to ruin the front of your dress if you keep that up. Ruffles or no, you’ll end up stretching the fabric eventually.”
Her gloved hands slowly loosen their grip. Latte smiles apologetically into the mirror.
“Sorry, looks like I have a case of the pre-wedding jitters.”
Espresso rolls his eyes. Putting down the brush, his fingers begin to work her hair into parts.
“You have nothing to worry about. That Almond on the other hand should count himself lucky you’re willing to have him as your future husband.”
Latte’s loud snort is anything but elegant, but it still made Espresso smile.
A brief moment of silence passes, with Espresso braiding Latte’s hair with meticulous care, while she sits patiently.
The smile on Latte’s face gradually slips, and her voice lacks the usual teasing edge when she speaks.
“What about you?” She tilts her back slightly to meet Espresso’s eyes. “Are you nervous? Madeleine will be there.”
Espresso’s fingers come to a stop at the end of her braid, she knows she’s hit a sore spot when he hesitates to answer a second too long.
“There’s no reason for me to feel nervous.”
The thinly veiled coldness in his voice makes Latte wince.
“Oh Ess, are you going to at least try and be nice to Madeleine?” She asks.
Espresso scoffs and resumes his work of arranging Latte’s hair into a coil. He’s careful not to let his simmering annoyance show through his handling, it has to be perfect after all.
“I’ll treat him the way as I have before.”
Latte sighs, her groomed brows furrowing. “Please don’t be too harsh on him. Leaving wasn’t his decision, even you know that.”
The thick braid almost slips out of Espresso’s hands, but he manages to catch himself from being deterred any further by the topic at hand.
They hardly ever speak of this even back when they were in the kingdom, only because Espresso makes it that Latte never has a chance to bring it up. He was prepared to have her mention it again now that they’re here in the Republic--where House Madeleine’s name is mentioned in every corner of the street. He’s just surprised that it took Latte this long to finally say something.
But Espresso isn’t about to have this conversation. Not now, not when they’re getting ready for Latte and Almond’s engagement party.
He finishes the twisted bun at last and secures the tied ends with several bobby pins, before leaning forward to pick up a heavy clip from the vanity. It’s a hefty weight in Espresso’s hand, eye-catching yet delicate. The surface is carved with intricate details of blooming flowers.
“Focus on yourself, why don’t you. It’s your night, after all.” He huffs. “Fretting doesn’t suit you. The marriage ceremony hasn’t even come yet and you’re already a changed cookie? Unbelievable.”
His poor attempt at a lighthearted jab does nothing for Latte. She has half a mind to turn around and retort, but Espresso’s firm hand on her shoulder prevents her from doing so. He brings the clip up to her head and secures it on the top of the coiled bun.
“Done. Now as a small favour, please don’t ruin it before we’re at least halfway into the event.”
Latte blinks slowly as she peers at the mirror. Her reflection greets her, and she could almost cry.
But she can’t, especially not when she has make up on.
Sometime earlier before Espresso came in, Latte had already done her make up. Her cheeks dusted a warm peach and lips painted a shinning mauve. Her doe eyes are accentuated by the light coating of mascara, and the corners of her eyes were lined with a gentle hand.
It’s fairly simple, nothing dramatic. But the equally simple hair styling that Espresso had done for her is what truly completes the look. Her face is framed by strands of loose hair that have been deliberately left out from the braided bun.
Latte finally turns around then, beaming at her fellow coffee mage. “Thank you, Espresso.”
Espresso returns the smile, his eyes crinkling slightly. “Don’t go crying on me yet, save that for your wedding day.”
That robbed a delighted wheeze out of Latte. But before she can return the quip, there came a knock at the door, and the voice of a hotel staff announcing that their carriage is waiting for them downstairs.
The interruption makes Espresso sigh. “Seems it’s time we take our leave.”
He turns back to Latte and extends his hand out to her.
“Shall we?”
Latte’s smile is wide and deep. She nods and takes Espresso’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Lets not keep the party guests waiting then!”
She hauls herself up from the chair and scurries over to the edge of her bed where she keeps her shoes. And as Latte dips her toes into a pair of white heels, her hands busy themselves by tugging at the off-shoulder straps of her dress.
“Do you think this is too much boobage?” She turns to face Espresso, her hands cupping at either side of her breasts as she pushes them upwards. The heavily jewelled necklace that sits on the top of her bosom jingles at the sudden jolting.
Espresso chooses not to perceive her question.
He turns away from Latte and starts walking towards the door despite her whining.
“Ess, wait! The veil!”
Latte moves fast despite wearing high heels, she reaches Espresso before he even has his hand on the doorknob. He turns around, only to have the same flat box from earlier shoved into his arms.
He blinks down at it. “Right, the veil.”
With Espresso’s hands full, Latte helps to flip open the lid and gingerly takes out a long black veil before draping it over Espresso’s head. She makes careful adjustments so that most of its length is cascading down Espresso’s back, and have just enough of it obscure half his face.
When she’s done, she takes a step back and claps her hands together.
“Customary in the Coffee Tribe to have the bride’s cookie of honour dress in black before the wedding!”
Espresso only caught a glimpse of the veil before Latte threw it over his head, but he knows it’s stitched with imagery of coffee beans, in a style that’s distinctively from their tribe.
There’s a soft look on Espresso’s face as he reaches up to stroke the fabric, his fingers twiddling with the gold embroidery around the edge.
“Ward off corrupted cookie spirits from the bride by fooling them into thinking you’re Kaldi’s Progenitor*.”
End of Chapter 1