Chapter Text
Sigewinne took pride in her work. The years she spent honing her skills, and the many years after that she spent putting them to use, were all invaluable experiences to her. The appearance of her kind, the Melusines, was deceiving, but rarely would she receive any threats from prisoners, even the most incorrigible of them. The infirmary was a place one came to when in a moment of weakness, and her presence offered a chance to be vulnerable in these unforgiving chambers of bronze and steel.
Most of her patients left with a renewed smile, which was why when she met Wriothesley for the first time, he left a strong impression on her. The boy was a mere teenager, not an impossible sight in the Fortress at the time, given the holes in the law regarding crimes committed by minors, but still a rare enough occurrence that warranted extra attention from her side to make sure he wasn't being pummeled to death in some dark corner behind the maze of pipes. Sigewinne wasn't sure when or why she started paying particular attention to the boy.
Was it the chilling evidence of his crimes etched into his skin she saw when changing his bandages on his second day? Was it the near daily visits she got after that, the expanse of scars steadily growing with the time he spent in the Pankration ring?
He never spoke much to her, usually only giving a small response when she struck up small talk. Whether it was because he didn't like small talk or had a habit of bottling things up, Sigewinne wouldn't know until much, much later down the line.
'Your gauntlets, they're really well made.'
This seemed to be the single remark over the past month that finally landed well with the raven-haired boy. It was another day of bruised knees and cut lips, and the nurse was racking her brain for something to break the silence. 'Humans usually don't like awkward silences' is what her books taught her, and everyone she had met before seemed to appreciate her filling the empty air while patching them up. Wriothesley, however, never seemed to care. He always looked deep in thought, even while Sigewinne disinfected the gnarliest of his wounds, which usually had a patient screeching in pain or at least gritting their teeth to act tough.
But hearing his gauntlets mentioned, the boy finally uttered something more than a single sentence.
'They're really not, but thank you. I need to make new ones again...these ones have clogged valves after my last match.'
Seems like he finally felt comfortable enough around her to vent about his recent troubles now? Well this was at least a start. The melusine felt the corners of her mouth lifting into a smile.
'What are you planning to do with the new ones? You've been altering them after every game haven't you?'
He stiffened at her words, perhaps not expecting her to be so enthusiastic about his violent dealings in the ring.
'Oh come on! Where do you think the people on the receiving end of your creations go when they leave the ring?' Sigewinne huffed. 'They're all much more talkative than you, I've heard much about you and your inventions. So what's up with the explosions you conjure?'
The head nurse could almost see the cogwheels turning in the teenager's brain, weighing his options. She felt a pang of sadness. Just how much had he been through to be so cautious of answering some simple conversation? Wriothesley seemed to have made up his mind while she was thinking. Pulling out a chunk of slightly deformed metal, he gestured towards the broken item.
'I...bought some elemental potions from the treasure hoarder division. My gauntlets have several built-in compartments I can trigger with hidden switches, and when the electro potion mixes with some pyro potion I can send a shockwave.'
He let out a soft sigh and shifted anxiously in his seat.
'As you probably saw from my opponent, the destructive power was larger than I expected. This prototype would've needed changing even if it didn't break from the blast.'
'Too risky for the user as well, I presume?'
Obviously a sarcastic question, seeing how the boy himself was sporting multiple cuts and burns. But Sigewinne enjoyed seeing him gaping at her, struggling to respond to her blatant teasing.
'Sorry sorry, haha! You still haven't told me what you have planned for the next one yet.'
Wriothesley picked nervously at a loose bolt.
'That'll have to depend on what I can get my hands on. The coupons I have on hand right now aren't enough to get the parts needed, should the shop even have them.'
'How about getting some from other inmates? Trading is not banned if I recall.'
'The bastards will definitely raise the inflation rates higher than our sea levels.'
Wow, humans truly are pieces of trash sometimes. Sigewinne marvelled for the millionth time since starting her work in the Fortress. Ironic, yes, given she works in a prison, she should be used to seeing the worst of humanity. But not everyone she meets is here for tax fraud worth millions, setting fire to Palais Mermonia. Many are good people, driven to petty crime as their last resort, dealt a terrible hand of cards in life that eventually led up to their demise and landing them in these murky depths.
These people deserved a second chance at life after their sentence, but given the reputation of the Fortress, it was nigh impossible for prisoners like him to lead a normal life upon release, some even making their way back into the Fortress only weeks after leaving.
Yet she wanted to believe it would be a different case for Wriothesley. The silent flame that burned behind his piercing blue eyes and gold-ringed pupils, she wanted to believe he could be a catalyst for change.
'What parts are you missing?' She asked, sliding off her high-stool and walking over to her desk.
The teenager looked up, slightly confused, but answered nonetheless.
'Some type 4, 5 bolts along with corresponding screws, mecha-specific cogwheels in 3 sizes...as for the large parts, they're just bent and not fractured, I could meld them back into shape with some equipment in the construction zone during my morning shift.' Looking down again, Wriothesley closed his eyes and chuckled lightly.
'Oh dear Head nurse, don't tell me you're possibly thinking of helping m-'
Slam.
Wriothesley flinched in his seat, and turned around to see Sigewinne dropping a large box of mechanical parts on the floor next to him.
'Wha-'
'Yes. I'm helping you, but not for free okay!' The melusine placed her hands on her hips and lifted her chin, as if trying to make herself seem larger.
'Where-'
'We melusines collect and trade parts as payment and tokens of appreciation.' She paused to dramatically place a hand over her chest. 'I happen to garner quite a bit of respect by working here, so now I offer my personal collection for you to pick from freely.'
Sigewinne once again savoured the sight of Wriothesley staring at the box, wide-eyed and at a loss for words.
'...I, thank you, truly.' Finding his voice while picking up a flawlessly polished nut, Wriothesley gave the nurse a small nod. 'How much...'
'Oh no, I don't want coupons.'
He blinked.
'Be my taste tester.'
'Huh?'
And thus began their simple transactional relationship. Anyone passing by the infirmary that day would've heard Sigewinne's hearty laugh echoing through the corridors, laughing at Wriothesley's poorly-concealed grimace as he took his first sip of her newest milkshake.
It was a particularly cold night, and Sigewinne blew her nose in a tissue as quietly as she could. Wriothesley was working away on his left gauntlet intently on the infirmary bed behind her, so focused she was afraid he'd jump straight into the ceiling if startled.
Cautiously, she let out a light cough.
'Wriothesley,' she started, noting the small twitch in the man's right hand, indicating he was listening. 'It's late. You should really get back to your cell before the guards on night patrol realise you're still out.'
The man turned around and grinned at her.
'Now now Sigewinne. You think I'd frequent your quarters this late if I wasn't sure I'd be in no trouble? Only two guards pass my cell, and I like to think both of them are on good enough terms with me to turn a blind eye. Besides, ' He picked up a smaller screwdriver. 'I have much more urgent matters to tend to. You saw what happened today.'
She did. She had been peering over the railing of the second floor along with other prisoners, watched as that sleazy administrator destroyed Wriothesley's years of hard work with one sweep of his gloved hand and a yawn. To her surprise, Wriothesley didn't appear upset in the slightest when he came for his routine post-match drop-in. She had a feeling he was planning something, something incredibly big, and it excited her. The monotony of life in the fortress wears one down, even to the melusines. She was sick being in the middle of the slowly rotting core of this gold-embossed structure, she yearned for something better for the people undeserving of this hellish lifestyle.
What did this human she had personally assisted over these past years have up his sleeve? Sigewinne knew it wouldn't be long before she had her answer.
'You've grown into a fine man, Wriothesley.' It seemed the only appropriate comment to give the human next to her. With the only source of light coming from her desk lamp and Wriothesley facing her with his back, she couldn't really see his face, but she knew he was smiling.
'Interesting adjective to use on me, Head nurse. But I guess I should learn to take a compliment no matter how inaccurate it may seem to me?' Wriothesley stood up to stretch, and Sigewinne thought quietly to herself: No, a fine man is a perfect way to describe him.
Now three heads taller than her, mapped with tenfold the amount of scars since their first meeting, and an impressively muscular build, he was far from the meek teenager that dodged idle conversation like the plague. He rarely came to visit her with serious injuries nowadays, moreso to find company in someone he could trust.
‘Ugh, my back.’ He groaned loudly, bending himself backwards to crack his spine. ‘You have any more of that Sumeru tea?’
‘How bold of you! A prisoner asking the Head nurse to make tea for them!’
‘Haha, are we not first and foremost friends? I’ll take that as a yes.’ Wriothesley whistled as he opened a drawer, pulling out a tea container. He shall never know that Sigewinne keeps it there specifically for him, she thought to herself with a smile.
‘Care for a cup?’
‘Why not.’
Watching the tea steep, the melusine felt an immense sense of peace. No matter what Wriothesley is plotting, she really hopes they’ll be able to have more moments like this in the future. This friendship they shared was pleasant, grounding in a sense she never had previously. Whether it be Monsieur Neuvillette or fellow melusines, there was no one who could be by her side consistently within these steely walls. She never told him, but Wriothesley’s presence was greatly welcomed in the infirmary…to the point she felt a bit sad his sentence will be ending in less than a month's time.
‘Tea is ready.’
How selfish of her.
The coup d’etat was over before it even had a chance to rise to its full intensity. That human filth they had to revere as the administrator fled with his non-existent tail between his legs, the coward couldn’t even show up to defend his own honour, if he had any left.
It was strange, entering the administrator’s office for the first time in a while. Sigewinne had been here before, but mostly to report on official business to the administrators at the time. The circular office was furnished in a way that reeked of the previous owner’s corruption, clearly meant for leisure and not work. In fact, the few stacks of files that could be found were outdated, crumpled in piles on the floor and only in piles courtesy to Wriothesley, who was currently pacing around the area and muttering things to himself.
‘Oh, hello there, my dear Head nurse. Is that a cup of tea for me?’
Ignoring his question, she placed the tray onto the table forcefully, not because she was upset but because of the stupid amount of entertainment-related paraphernalia cluttering precious surface area.
‘Did you plan for this to happen? For him to run away?’
Wriothesley let out a soft ‘oomph’ as he threw another stack of documents onto the floor. ‘Believe it or not, no. I didn’t realise he lacked the backbone to even face a mere prisoner.’
‘Mere prisoner? You downplay your character and influence in the Fortress, Wriothesley. We all know the support you gained was possible because you created a common goal to bring forth a better system, change was much-needed and long overdue.’ Sigewinne dropped two cubes of sugar into the cup and stirred, watching the man dust down a gramophone. ‘Pity, I would’ve liked to see that man’s face smashed in by your newest model. You spent sooo many of my parts on them!’
‘You want them back? I probably have the power to procure better bits now, with access to my coupons he took away.’ Wriothesley flopped onto the chair in front of the desk with a loud exhale. ‘Although I wonder if I’ll need my gauntlets anymore, today coincidentally appears to be…’ He waved a piece of paper procured from the mountain of documents. ‘...the end of my sentence.’
Her stirring came to a halt.
Oh. Wriothesley was a free man now.
‘Congratulations!’ She managed to choke out after a split second. Sigewinne couldn’t meet his eyes, lest she find herself crying tears in front of someone besides Monsieur Neuvillette. She hopes Wriothesley will find his new life pleasant, maybe get a well paying job, meet some new friends, pick up a new hobby to finally put his blood-drenched gloves to rest, or just spend time lying in the sun, she recalled him telling her he fancied nice picnics-
‘As if.’ Wriothesley blurted, seemingly having read her mind. ‘No one’s here to sign my release papers. I don’t think the Palais can do anything about this either, the Fortress isn’t under their jurisdiction. The only option I have is to find that damn rat to sign, but obviously he’s not coming back here anytime soon.’
It felt like hours of silence after Wriothesley finished his monologue to the air, since his only audience member, Sigewinne, was barely registering his words. Mustering some courage, she turned to look at the man, only to find him already watching her with his signature grin.
‘Well, guess you’re gonna be stuck with me for longer than you think, Sigewinne.’
Reform took just about as long as Sigewinne expected it to. Years. Wriothesley worked hard as the administrator, putting him in stark contrast with the previous one. His efforts were not futile, with the addition of welfare meals and stronger crack down on malicious communities within the prisoners, life was steadily improving. Gardemek production levels exponentially increased with greater morale, and soon the Fortress found itself partnering with some of the most influential factions in Fontaine.
Despite the enormous workload he’d taken upon, Wriothesley always found time to sit down and have a cup of tea with Sigewinne (she suspected he had many cups without her too, the man had an unhealthy addiction).
He was reading through some business-related letters when she arrived with their tea tray of desserts. The office had long been refurbished, leaving only some shelves for documents and a small corner with a couch and table for guests. Not like many showed up, but the ones that did deserved a seat while having conversation.
Wriothesley heard her footsteps and cracked a smile. He flapped the envelope he had in his hand, nudging his chin at the wax seal. Blinking, Sigewinne moved closer to take a better look, and her eyes lit up in recognition.
‘Palais Mermonia? Is it from Monsieur Neuvillette?’ She practically threw the tray onto the table, stretching her neck to read the contents. It was hard for her and other melusines to contain their excitement at the mention of the Iudex. Wriothesley had once asked her about their admiration towards him, earning an eraser to the forehead and a cry of disbelief at his confusion. How could they not be infatuated with him? Their guardian, their beacon of light, their ‘Father’, the sole person responsible for the comfortable lives they lead alongside humans. She could go on for hours like a broken tap, uncontrollably spewing compliments about Neuvillette. But she was a rational melusine capable of reading the room, so Wriothesley was let off at the price of one milkshake.
‘It is indeed from Palais Mermonia, but I’m not sure if it has anything to do with the Chief Justice. The contents are quite…extraordinary, even for someone like him.’ Wriothesley laid the letter down flat so they could both read.
Sigewinne’s eyes widened as she skimmed the contents, framed by flowery golden patterning.
‘Excellent management, leading tax contributor, specially granted this title…’
Summarised, Wriothesley, a criminal turned administrator, was being awarded Dukedom, the highest possible honour a regular Fontainian could ever receive.
‘I wonder what they see in me, a brute who committed a double homicide in his mid-teens, and then overthrew the warden in prison. A Duke, hah, even the leader of Spina Di Rosula received the offer of the title of Earl.’ Sigewinne could sense the sarcasm in his voice, but for some reason it was pulling on her nerves.
‘As I’ve told you time and time before, Wriothesley, you downplay yourself and your achievements way too much. What you did back then admittedly wasn’t the best option available, but you saved countless people, so please, I beg of you, stop beating yourself up over past mistakes that you’ve already atoned for!’ She chided him relentlessly, opting to climb onto the table and twist his head around to face her.
‘If it’s an offer from the Palais, I assure you it went through months of discussion, scrutiny from the highest officials of Fontaine, Monsieur Neuvillette and our Archon herself included. If they deemed you worthy of the title, even with the knowledge of what you went through, I don’t think you are allowed to refuse it with the reason you gave me just now.
‘If it comes down to it, I will personally drag you up there to receive your title. The things you’ve done for the people make you more than worthy of it, and I will not sit here and listen to you wallow in self-hatred!’
Celestia above, she hasn’t raised her voice like this since Wriothesley walked into the infirmary with four broken ribs 7 years ago. She hated seeing him like this, as if he could throw his own life away should the situation call for it. Did he truly think his existence had such little meaning to the people around him?
Wriothesley was staring at her silently, mouth agape just like it was all those years ago after her teasing. Slowly, it morphed into a soft smile.
‘I appreciate it, my dear Sigewinne.’ His eyes crinkled, and Sigewinne knew this was one of his smiles where he finally let down some walls. ‘I know my self-worth, it just came as a surprise since I wasn't expecting this degree of recognition for my efforts. Sorry for upsetting you with my words…I know you always mean well when you scold me like this.’
‘Although…’wrenching his face from between her hands, he walked around the desk to grab some parchment. ‘An investiture ceremony as they suggested is completely unneeded. It’s quite un-Fontainian of me, but I would really prefer if they just let me sign the relevant certificates and leave.’
It hurt Sigewinne a little, knowing that he was still choosing to let his hard work go unnoticed by the masses. The word humble fit the warden, yet could not possibly encapsulate the complexity of his motives.
One day someone will come along and get this stubborn wolf of a man to do something for his own sake, she thought, spitefully plastering a few stickers onto his gramophone.
‘That took longer than expected. I didn’t realise they’d be so unwilling to let go of archaic traditions.’
‘An investiture ceremony is hardly an archaic practice, Wriothesley. You’re the one who insisted it was unnecessary. Will you at least tie your tie properly today? Button up too! Exposing your chest for Monsieur Neuvillette to see is rather indecent given the setting.’
The duke-to-be laughed exasperatedly. ‘Quite the nitpicker today aren’t you Sigewinne? He’s seen me in much worse shape than this, a little skin doesn’t hurt, it’s not like I’m walking around half-naked. Now if you deem me presentable-’ A pull on his tie. ‘I’ll be heading off.’
Giving him a once over for the fifth time, the melusine finally felt she was able to give him the green light. Although there wasn’t a formal ceremony waiting for him, he would still be meeting with multiple Fontaine officials. Not that she cared for any of them besides her beloved Monsieur, but she really wanted her warden to leave as good of an impression as possible on them. His criminal history and current work station was bound to strike up a whirlwind of rumours in the social circles of nobles, and combined with the level of title being awarded, Wriothesley was doomed to be the centre of controversy for weeks to come, perhaps even for the rest of his career.
Sigewinne knew he was far from a weak man, and that he never took any harsh gossip to heart, but having watched this boy grow up, the overprotective part of her couldn’t bear the thought of uninformed outsiders making prejudiced comments on a man she knew to be so incredibly chivalrous and kind.
The man in question now stood in front of her, his heavy jacket slung over his shoulder, dress shirt and waistcoat meticulously ironed, and combat boots freshly shined. He towered over her, yet Sigewinne didn’t feel intimidated in the slightest. Behind the tailored outfit, behind the rough patches of scars and steely eyes, still remained the teenager who would try and fail to finish her milkshakes, all while sifting through gears and screws to make his newest invention.
‘Perfect.’
‘Wow, really? Thought you’d give me a hard time about my hair again.’
‘We both know no amount of hair gel keeps it down, Wriothesley. I might as well let you leave early so you don’t miss the meeting time.’
As she watched the warden step down the stairs, Sigewinne suddenly felt a strong sense of pride.
‘Wriothesley.’
‘Hm?’ A signature pair of hair tufts poked up from the floor below, the owner already halfway downstairs.
‘Nothing,’ she fidgeted with her fingers. ‘I just wanted to say your name once more, since I’ll be calling you with your new title from now on.’
Short silence, then a loud burst of laughter.
‘Oh Sigewinne, cut the crap.’ She heard the administrator gasping from the intensity of his outburst. ‘You know you’re always welcome to drop formalities with me. You’ve practically single-handedly raised me in this watery dungeon, you think I care if you call me ‘Your Grace’ or not?’ A beat. ‘Get a cup of your milkshakes ready for me when I’m back won’t you? I’m craving one terribly.’
And he was off. It was strange hearing that conversation while all she had in view was a pair of wolf ear-shaped pieces of hair, but nevertheless, the second Wriothesley was out of earshot, Sigewinne found herself laughing as well.
Ah, humans and their way with words.
Humming the piano tune Wriothesley frequently played in his office, she headed off to the cafeteria.
Wriothesley rarely ascended to the overworld, with all his duties lying within the giant metal construct several hundred metres underwater. Today was a special occasion, however. If you told teenage Wriothesley he was to become a Duke in the future, he probably would’ve scoffed and turned on his heel to leave. He wouldn’t blame him, because it felt unreal even to him in the present. Who could’ve possibly vouched for his capabilities? Waving away his doubts, he stepped out of the elevator and onto the bridge leading to Palais Mermonia. He had promised Sigewinne to receive this honorary title with no further attempts to rationalise the appropriateness of himself being the receiver, at least for today.
Walking through the large doors of the Palais, he noted the absence of the gestionnaires typing away diligently at the rows of desks lining the hallway, before recalling the time he read from the large clock outside. It was half past six, your average worker would be home enjoying dinner at this point. Wriothesley huffed. Neither him or the Iudex fit into that category, hence the meet up being arranged at this time.
He regrettably did lie to Sigewinne. There were no Fontaine officials to officiate his induction into Fontaine nobility, he had requested for as little attention as possible, despite her evident wishes for him to be introduced in a positive light to potential future collaborators. Thus remained just one person who would oversee the proceedings, and the only one that really mattered to him.
Waving to Sedene at the front desk, he knocked twice before entering the office.
The Iudex looked the same as always, snowy hair flowing down his back, aquablue robes shimmering in the light of the setting sun, and of course, the unchanged beautiful face that exuded elegance, emanated a sense of regalness so strong that a weaker man could not help but get on their knees and worship.
‘Wriothesley.’ The Chief Justice smiled politely.
‘Your Honour.’ He smiled back.
‘My deepest apologies for the late meeting time. My schedule simply did not allow for an earlier hour, I hope you have not been inconvenienced by my lack of foresight when making arrangements.’
‘Not at all, you overestimate my workload down there. I’m the one who should be accommodating to your schedule. So, which documents do I need to sign?’
The judge moved over to his desk, picking up an alarmingly thick stack of papers before heading over to one of the couch-table arrangements in the centre of the room (not dissimilar to the one he has in his office, Wriothesley mused).
‘Please do take a seat. These files are exceedingly wordy, but the pages that require signing are few in number. I trust you understand the implications of receiving this title already, so since we’re the only ones here, I’ll give you a short summary and we may proceed.’
…
Dropping the pen with a loud exhale, Wriothesley pulled on his tie to loosen it. Unbefitting of a duke for sure, but as he said to Sigewinne, the Iudex had seen him in much worse shape before, showing some skin would hardly warrant a heart attack and immediate eviction from the other man.
He watched as the documents he just signed were taken by the Iudex, scanned, and then a light nod.
‘That will be all, then. You are now officially a Duke, to go by ‘Your Grace’ when being addressed, and so shall your partner and future heirs. I hope you understand the true weight of this title and continue putting in your best to improve Fontaine for the better.’
Nodding in acknowledgement, Wriothesley watched as the judge walked past him and across the room to store the papers appropriately.
It was kind of poetic, how both major events in his life were hosted by the man currently carefully filing his documents. Their distance has drastically closed since then, from the angry teenager on the defendant’s stand staring up at the Chief Justice above the Oratrice, to seeing eye-to-eye, in a sunlit office and comfortable silence.
‘Oh.’
A light exclamation from the judge drew Wriothesley from memory lane back to reality. He was staring at his shoulder, and Wriothesley finally remembered his cryo vision he had hung there when heading out. The other man gave another one of his polite smiles, but the duke felt this one contained a sense of appreciation that wasn’t there before. It was endearing, to see the man held in such high regard expressing genuine joy towards him, an ex-criminal. He was starting to understand Sigewinne’s daily serenades about her beloved Monsieur.
‘Congratulations,’ said the Iudex. ‘You have found something you wish to do at last, I see.’
Wriothesley smiled back at Neuvillette by way of reply, but found no need to further comment. This was something he wanted to savour, soak into his bones without his sense of self-doubt creeping in to destroy this moment of bliss.
After letting Neuvillette’s remark linger a bit longer, he inhaled deeply and threw the man one of his wolfish smirks.
‘What do you say, Chief Justice? It’s pretty late, how does a celebratory dinner with me at Hotel Debord sound? My treat.’
Neuvillette seemed surprised by the sudden invitation, staring at him with pupils blown wide and blinking profusely. Just when Wriothesley thought he’d accidentally crossed an invisible line, the Iudex coughed and brought a hand to his face.
‘Forgive me, your invitation caught me off guard. I don’t see why not, I have cleared work for the afternoon expecting this meeting to take much longer, so I am more than free to accompany you for dinner.’
With the setting sun illuminating Neuvillette from behind through the coloured window panes, he truly looked like the beautiful water spirits described in Fontaine’s mythology books. An unknown sense of courage gradually flooded into him, taking over all sense of reason and rationality. Taking a few steps forward and reaching out, he grabbed Neuvillette’s hand, bowed, and planted a feather-light kiss on the gold-studded knuckles of his gloves.
‘Thank you for giving me the honour of dining with you, Your Honour.’ He murmured against the fabric. Neuvillette's hand was more slender than his, fitting comfortably in his grasp, and Wriothesley could smell the faint scent of romaritime flower cologne. Intoxicating.
The Iudex looked away, his face slightly flushed from what Wriothesley presumed to be embarrassment.
How cute.
He couldn’t stop the thought from appearing. Another light cough from Neuvillette.
‘Lead the way, Your Grace. The hour is late, and I fear the good tables will be gone if we dally any longer.’
Walking side-by-side in the night breeze, Wriothesley gazed up into the stars, revelling in the comfortable atmosphere. If this peace is what the title of duke granted him, he would have to thank Sigewinne for everything when he got back, even if the price was a lifetime worth of milkshake taste-testing.