The Prince

Chapter 2- Barmaid Dresses

Warm air greeted me as I stepped into the place I could proudly call my second home. The familiar smell of homely, hearty food wafted in from the kitchen at the back, gladly offering to fill the stomachs of travellers and settlers alike. Underlying tones of rum, whisky and all the other types of the Devil's drink also hung in the air, sure to increase as more folk retired at the inn for the evening.

I made my way to the bar, sitting on the corner stool that might as well have my name engraved into the polished wooden seat.

The girl behind the counter hadn't noticed me, and was instead leaning suggestively over the division, with her low-cut corset giving surrounding customers a good view of her bust.

One of these customers was Bottlehead Bill who'd, bless his old soul, drunk one too many glasses of ale yet again, and was now under the spell of the cunning mistress in front of him.

Her long black hair swished prettily around her, matching the exaggerated sway of her hips as she handed more drinks to the men whose eyes eagerly raked up and down her body.

Fumbling hands reached into their pockets, extracting coins without counting them and splashing them on the counter, in the hopes of getting another drink, another show.

I rolled my eyes at their lack of respect. And her lack of pride.

"Zella," I said crisply. Her back snapped straight, and she turned around slowly to face me, as though she knew she'd been caught. I flashed her a quick smile before pointing at one of the barrels of beer. "Get me one."

I didn't bother speaking politely, knowing from past experiences that it never got her to act any nicer.

Icy blue eyes narrowed at me, before she returned my smile with a quick one of hers. It didn't reach her eyes. How unfortunate.

I bit down a smirk as she turned to fill up a large clay mug.

It took a while.

She then walked over, all but throwing the drink down in front of me, frothy liquid threatening to spill.

"Thanks," I said, before looking at her dress.

I gasped dramatically.

"Oh my, your corset seems to have shrunk Zella. Maybe you could use one of my old ones if the tips these daft beggars throw at you aren't enough."

Her lips thinned, and a malicious glint formed in her eyes. I took a swig of beer, raising my eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her next great piece of speech.

"Not everyone is a dyke like you. Flynn. Some people are proud of their femininity." She spoke haughtily, as though she'd thought of the greatest insult ever.

The beer in my mouth burst out, spraying all over the oak surface as I laughed loudly.

Zella stepped back in disgust, wiping the tiny flecks off of her skirt.

"Flynn!" I repeated, causing another round of giggles.

"Yes," she said, inspecting her fingernails before regarding me lazily. I didn't miss the gleam in her eyes though. Oh, here comes the next insult. "That is a boy's name, and you are a boy, are you not?"

She looked at me up and down, and then covered her mouth, gasping equally dramatically as I had.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's quite hard to tell with that flat chest of yours. Do you want to borrow one of my corsets?" she asked, repeating my words. Copycat. She didn't give me a chance to reply.

"Actually, never mind. It would never be able to hold up anyway," she sighed, tutting as she looked at my chest disapprovingly.

I wiped a forced tear from the corner of my eye.