8 | Midnight Mischief

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In order to plan his escape, he needed a decoy, an actor. Now, who would be the greatest disguise— cookie to disguise?
Roguefort. Clearly.
He knew about them, going all over newspapers, although they were from a whole different continent. Though stating that would be over exaggeration.
He spun a pencil in his hand, thinking of ideas in order to place Roguefort into his devious plans, perhaps him creating a facade? Robbery? A masquerade?
A midnight masquerade.
Would anyone notice he was gone? No. It's a masquerade party. If Roguefort were to create mischief, no one would realize his escape.

Why was he escaping again? Stress.

—-

Financier stood at the edge of her bed, still deeply worried about Clotted. If he were to pass, she'd fail at her duty. Again. It was like a cycle. She swore to protect all of them, yet they ended six feet deep. It was tragic, I admit. She was worried. She promised, it was a swear. Nothing ends up good in her hands, she believes. Although it is truly wrong, she had done great goods. Saving the Republic? Sure. You can mention that one.

—-

Did Madeleine think he was prepared? Not really. Did he really care though? No. With the "luck of divine" he might have a shot. I mean, Financier and him both had their expertise, but dueling is definitely not one to mention for Madeleine.
Some would admit, he's decent. His bright clothing choice and eyes are quite the distraction. His flowing hair that is usually put up, very distracting. Even Espresso would admit, its pretty hard not to stare. Hopefully Financier is focused enough, I am sure she will be.

—-

Clotted sat at a desk, scrolling through numerous websites, trying to find out how to reach Roguefort and if they were arrested or not. Wouldn't be surprised if they were, but would they be willing to help him? What task would Roguefort give him in order to "hire" them. Hopefully it's money, the Consul might be wealthy enough. Most would guess so. But it really goes to his dad. Would he be arrested for hiring a criminal to do a crime? Probably. Does he care? Yeah, he does. His reputation would be obliterated. It's quite terrifying, if he were to get caught, it would basically end his whole career. Is he willing to take this risk?

—-

Madeleine shot up, turning his head around, realizing Espresso was fast asleep. He shrugged, wiping hair out of his face and getting out of bed. He blinked, hoping his vision were to clear up quicker. Which it didn't, he yawned, walking to the bathroom.
He placed his hand on the sink, using the other to grab his contact lenses. He hasn't told anyone he wore contacts. He thought he'd seem weird. Most people thought he had spectacular vision, even perfect. He was told his eyes were practically glowing. His excuse were always to say "It's the divines grace, following my path, leading me to the correct destination ". Which it isn't, but it's better to think that.
His hands shook as he was attempting to put them on. He struggles with keeping his hand still, although he manages.

"Mm- Need help?"

Espresso leaned on the doorway, watching Madeleine still shakily holding contact lenses above his eye.

"I got this-"

Madeleine not-so-surely states, still gradually lowering his hand.

He placed it in his eye, finally resting his arm near his side.

"I just need the right eye now."

Madeleine spoke confidently, popping it in perfectly.

He blinked a few times before smiling to himself in the mirror.

"Get out, I'm using it now."

"I just got here."

"Mhm."

"What?"

Espresso pushed Madeleine away, walking towards the toilet.

"Go?"

Madeleine turned away covering his eyes.

"No- Literally leave."

Madeleine stomped away as Espresso slammed the door.

Madeleine lit up, getting the idea to search through his journal.

—-

Financier sat in a coffee shop, waiting for the right time to leave. They had planned for it early in the morning, Financier was honestly not a morning person.
She was glad to be away from the Consul for a while though, but sometimes she sits down, worrying about if he was doing alright.

"Financier!"

A cookie had come rushing up to her, circling into the chair in front of her.

"Oh, Latte. Good Morning."

"Hello! I have come to visit here, in the kingdom. I have to say- It's way different than what I had imagined!"

Latte spoke, looking outside the window.

Financier subtly laughed, setting her drink down.

"Got any plans?"

"Yes, with Madeleine, Espresso and Clotted Cream Cookie."

"Oh right! I recall!"

"Espresso told you?"

"No, Madeleine."

"You know Madeleine?"

"Of course! Espresso tells me loads about him."

Latte grinned, adjusting her glasses.

"Speaking about that, I should get going. I have  to be there a bit earlier."

"May I come with?"

"I don't mind."

—-

Madeleine adjusted his hair in the mirror, as Espresso combed through his hair.

"I think we're late."

"No, we aren't."

"Oh. But the clock says 8."

"That clock is incorrect, then."

"Oh."

Madeleine shrugged, fixing his posture and spraying cologne.

Espresso coughed, swiping his hand in front of his own face.

"Gosh- Not that much."

"Oh- Sorry!"

Madeleine apologizes, patting Espressos head and exiting the room.

"Let's go—!"

—-

Clotted Cream rolled out of his chair, which had apparently fallen to the floor. He heard several bangs on his door. He shot up, heading towards the door, peeking through it.

"Consul- Be there in 10, please. Espresso insists."

Financier spoke, daring to not peek inside his home.

"Oh, yes. I'll be there-"

Clotted Cream shut the door. Rushing towards his bathroom to get prepared. He may have totally forgotten about everything, walking out moments later, leaving his door unlocked.

—-

Authors note:

YIPPEE

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