When Caesar Met Cinderella

Chapter 6：The Elixir of Black Beans

The aroma hit Hadrian first, a sharp, roasted scent that was unlike anything he had encountered in his time. It clung to the air, a heady mix of bitterness and something vaguely sweet. He wrinkled his nose slightly as Emily guided him through the bustling doorway of a small, independent coffee shop.

“Right, this is a coffee shop,” Emily announced, gesturing around the crowded space. “People come here to get… well, coffee, mostly. But also tea, pastries, that sort of thing.”

Hadrian surveyed the scene with a critical eye. The interior was a mishmash of exposed brick, mismatched furniture, and brightly coloured artwork. Young people with laptops occupied most of the tables, their fingers tapping furiously on keyboards. A queue snaked its way towards a counter where a young man with a carefully sculpted beard was operating a complex-looking machine.

“Another gathering place for these ‘phones’?” Hadrian murmured, observing the glowing screens with a familiar suspicion.

Emily chuckled. “Some people work here, some are just relaxing. And yes, many are on their phones.”

They joined the end of the queue. Hadrian stood tall, his posture impeccable despite the tracksuit, his gaze sweeping over the other patrons with an air of detached observation, like a general inspecting his troops – albeit troops dressed in decidedly peculiar uniforms.

“Observe,” he muttered to Emily, his voice low. “The attire of these… citizens. Such a riot of colours and styles. And the lack of uniformity! It would never do in the legions.”

Emily stifled a smile. “People like to express their individuality these days.”

“Individuality,” Hadrian repeated, the word sounding somewhat dubious on his tongue. “A concept that often leads to… disorder.”

As they shuffled forward in the queue, Hadrian’s attention was caught by the barista expertly crafting a frothy beverage. The hiss of steam, the rhythmic grinding of beans, the clinking of ceramic – it was a symphony of unfamiliar sounds.

“And that contraption?” Hadrian asked, pointing with a subtle nod of his head towards the espresso machine. “It appears to be… torturing those black beans.”

“Something like that,” Emily said. “It’s making coffee.”

When they finally reached the counter, Emily turned to Hadrian. “So, what would you like to try? They have all sorts of coffee here. Latte, cappuccino, Americano…”

Hadrian looked at the menu board, his brow furrowed in confusion at the list of unfamiliar terms. He then glanced at the dark, steaming liquid being poured into various cups. “This… ‘coffee’… it is made from these beans?”

“That’s right,” Emily confirmed. “Roasted coffee beans, ground up and brewed with hot water.”

Hadrian considered this for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Black as night… it looks rather… potent.”

“It can be,” Emily said with a grin. “It’s got caffeine. It’ll give you a bit of a… boost.”

“A boost?” Hadrian echoed, intrigued. “Like the wine of Falernus, perhaps, but without the… subsequent dulling of the senses?”

“Something like that,” Emily said, trying to find a relatable comparison. “Okay, how about we start with a regular coffee? Just black, no milk or sugar, so you can taste it properly.”

“Perfetto,” Hadrian declared with a decisive nod. “Let us sample this ‘elixir of black beans’ in its purest form.”

Emily ordered a black coffee for Hadrian and her usual latte. As they waited for their drinks, Hadrian continued his observations. He watched a young woman meticulously arranging sugar packets on her saucer. “Such precise movements for such a trivial task,” he murmured.

Then, his gaze fell upon a man engrossed in a video call on his phone, speaking loudly and gesturing emphatically. Hadrian frowned. “He speaks to the air with such passion. Is he addressing unseen spirits?”

Emily sighed. “He’s probably just on a video call. Talking to someone on his phone, but they can see each other.”

Hadrian’s eyes widened again. “They can see each other… through the small box? The wonders never cease.”

Their drinks were ready. Emily paid and took the two cups, handing the plain black coffee to Hadrian. He accepted it with a regal air, holding the steaming cup carefully in both hands. He brought it to his nose, inhaling deeply. His initial wrinkled expression softened slightly.

“The aroma… it is indeed intriguing. Earthy, yet with a hint of… fire?”

“Something like that,” Emily agreed, taking a sip of her latte.

Hadrian then took a tentative sip of the black coffee. His eyes widened again, but this time with a jolt of surprise. His lips pursed slightly, and a faint grimace flickered across his face.

“Amara!” he exclaimed softly, the Italian word for “bitter” escaping his lips. He took another, slightly larger sip, his expression still a mixture of shock and contemplation.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Emily said, trying to suppress a laugh. “A lot of people add milk and sugar.”

Hadrian waved his hand dismissively. “Niente.” (Nothing.) He took another sip, this time holding the liquid in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. A thoughtful look crossed his face. “There is a… certain… strength to this bitterness. It awakens the senses.”

They found a small, unoccupied table near the window. Hadrian sat down, still holding his coffee as if it were a precious artifact. He took another sip, then another, his initial aversion seemingly giving way to a grudging acceptance.

“You said this… ‘caffeine’… it provides a ‘boost’?” he asked after a few more sips.

“Yeah, it can help you feel more awake and focused,” Emily explained. “It’s quite popular in the mornings.”

Hadrian considered this. “So, instead of the invigorating effects of a morning bath in cold water, your people rely on this… bitter brew?”

“Pretty much,” Emily said with a shrug.

Suddenly, a woman at the next table, who had been discreetly observing Hadrian’s unusual attire and intense scrutiny of his coffee, leaned over with a friendly smile. “First time trying coffee?” she asked.

Hadrian turned, his imperial demeanour kicking in. He regarded the woman with a polite but slightly condescending gaze. “Indeed. My… travels have brought me to this establishment, and I am sampling the local customs.”

The woman chuckled. “Well, welcome to the 21st century. Coffee’s kind of a big deal here.” She then noticed Emily. “He a friend of yours?”

“Something like that,” Emily said vaguely, shooting the woman a warning glance.

“He looks like he’s stepped out of a history book,” the woman said with a wink.

“Perhaps I have,” Hadrian murmured, taking another sip of his coffee.

The woman laughed again and turned back to her laptop. Hadrian watched her go, a slight frown on his face. “They are… remarkably informal in their interactions.”

“That’s just how people are here,” Emily said. “Pretty laid-back.”

Hadrian took another sip of his coffee, his initial distaste seemingly replaced by a growing appreciation for its effects. He sat up a little straighter, his eyes seemed a little brighter, and he even tapped his fingers lightly on the table, a hint of restless energy about him.

“I must admit,” he said after a few moments, “there is a certain… invigorating quality to this ‘coffee’. My mind feels… sharper. More alert.”

“See? I told you,” Emily said with a smile.

Just then, the barista called out an order. “Latte for Emily!”

Emily went to collect her drink. When she returned, she found Hadrian observing a group of construction workers who had come in for a quick coffee break. They were talking loudly, their laughter echoing through the shop.

“Such boisterousness,” Hadrian commented. “Are they celebrating a victory?”

“Probably just finished a hard job,” Emily said.

Hadrian watched them for a moment longer, a thoughtful expression on his face. “There is a… vitality to this age. A raw energy that was perhaps… less prevalent in my time.” He took another sip of his coffee. “Perhaps this ‘elixir’ is responsible.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, both sipping their drinks and observing the ebb and flow of the coffee shop. Hadrian seemed to be genuinely enjoying the effects of the caffeine, his initial stiffness gradually giving way to a more relaxed, albeit still regal, posture. He even started to look around with a more curious and less judgmental gaze.

Suddenly, he turned to Emily, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Tell me, Emilia. Do they have a stronger version of this… ‘coffee’?”

Emily raised an eyebrow. “You’re already on your first cup of black coffee. That’s pretty strong for a beginner.”

“But a true emperor must sample the full range of his domain’s offerings,” Hadrian declared with a hint of a smirk. “Perhaps something… with an extra ‘boost’?”

Emily laughed. “Maybe next time we’ll try an espresso. But for now, I think one ‘elixir of black beans’ is enough for your first experience.”

Hadrian conceded with a nod, taking another appreciative sip of his coffee. As they finished their drinks and prepared to leave, he turned to Emily, a newfound respect in his eyes. “This ‘coffee’… it is indeed a curious and potent brew. I can see why your people have embraced it.” He paused, then added with a hint of his former imperial grandeur, “Though, of course, the wines of the Roman Empire still hold a certain… unmatched refinement.”

Emily just smiled. “Of course, Hadrian. Of course.” As they stepped back out onto the bustling London street, Emily couldn’t help but think that Hadrian, the Roman Emperor, was slowly but surely developing a taste for the bittersweet complexities of the 21st century, one caffeinated sip at a time.