" The coffee was shockingly, blisteringly good: hot but not hot enough to scald, the paper cup warm in Mahit's palms. It had a rich, earthy taste that wasn't anything like the instant coffee on Lsel, and in some better moment Mahit thought she'd really like to drink it slowly enough to think about all the different qualities of the flavor-

‹There are varieties,> Yskandr said, ‹and they all taste different. It's fantastic. But the important part is the caffeine.>

He was right. Even in the few minutes Mahit had been drinking the coffee, she felt more present, more acute, conscious of a faint thrumming in her skin. "

― Arkady Martine , A Memory Called Empire (Teixcalaan, #1)