Freedom

It feels liberating to be walking around the streets of Stylianos, feeling like a regular person.  I tied up Dash in the stable and stroll through the small village.  There were venders trying to push freshly baked bread, cuts of meat, freshly picked fruit and vegetables from their garden, and even fresh flowers.  I couldn’t resist the urge to buy atleast one thing from each vender.  I was lucky I had a husband who not only stuffs money in his pocket, but also doesn’t count it.

Even after I married my husband, I hadn’t spent much time beyond the walls of my step-mother’s or the palace.  I had never experienced the village like any normal person would.  This was my first experience of being out completely on my own and it felt good!

A small ensemble of men with fiddles, pipes and drums are playing a jig in the center of the square where there stood a statue of the king (my father-in-law).  Men and women not dressed in anything fancy, danced with one another and laughed gleefully.  I stood by along the outside, watching as these people enjoyed themselves and start clapping along to the music. 

I can’t resist the urge to join in their dance as an elderly gentleman snatches me up from the sidelines and we dance in a chain in the middle of the square.  This is so much easier to do in pants!  I don’t think I’ve never felt this free.  I want to embrace every moment as if it will never come again.

                Evening approaches and I have no desire to head back to the palace just yet.  I come across a pub that is bursting with noise and excitement.  I peer through the swinging doors to see a smoked filled room with men hunched around tables, playing poker or drinking beers and bantering on about their hunt.  The bar maids were weaving their way through the tables, flirting with the men and having a good time.  In one corner a fiddler is playing a jig, completing this casual and relaxed atmosphere.

                It’s when I push through the doors that everyone stops to take a look at the stranger that just walked in.  I stand frozen, looking at everyone, hoping that they don’t recognize me as the princess.  I pull down the brim of my husband’s hat to shield my eyes and stay hidden from the public eye.  It only took a second before the bar crowd goes back to their cards and beer.

                “Are you going drink or what, pretty lady?”

                The bartender is standing there, drying a glass with his cloth and giving me a wry grin. 

                I’ll be honest, I’ve never had a beer before.  I’ve had Champagne, but never a sip of beer.  I have always been curious to try it and I was taking this as my opportunity.

                The barkeep shoots me a puzzling glare when I make my order.

“You don’t look like my typical customer,” he says.

“And what does your typical customer look like?”

“Like him!”  He points a chubby finger at the man sitting next to me.  He’s big, bald, and has the face of a clueless man.

“Are you giving me that free beer or what, Noshi?” He says to the bartender.

“Ah, shut up and drink your whiskey,” he replies, pouring him another glass of whiskey.

“That’s what my usual customers look like, lass.  They’re not young, beautiful women.  Women usually work for me.”

“Look,” my voice gets stern as if I were talking to Elma again. “I don’t need a lecture on what kind of customer I ought to be, just give me the damn beer.”

Taken back by the sudden edge, he smiles impressively and pours me a stein of foamy beer.

“You are one aggressive woman, I’ll give you that.” The bartender says.

“I’m not aggressive, I’m just tired of people telling me how I ought to act.  I apologize if I seem rude.”

I pay him in my husband’s silver.  He throws his hands up as if he doesn’t want to touch my money.

“It’s on me, lass.  I only ask for your forgiveness.”

I shake my head smiling.

“There’s nothing to forgive, but thank you.”

He kindly smiles back and tends to his usual customers.

                “I bet you two silver she can’t finish your brew, Noshi.”

                Another young man, sitting at the end of the bar, is glancing over at me and has a smirk on his face. 

                “Ah, leave’er alone, mate.  She’s had enough teasin’ for one day,” The bartender says.

                The young man chuckles and comes over to sit next to me, waiting to see the results.

                “Aw come on, we both know she couldn’t.”

                “What makes you think I won’t chug this beer?” I say to him.

                “You look like you escaped from a tea party.” He says.

                “I’ll take that bet, Gef.”

                “Better pay up now,” the young man says to the bartender.

                With that twinge of an insult, I clutch the cold, frothy beer in my small, delicate hands.  With a deep breath, I take the rim on my lips and chug the beer as much as I can, without even thinking about it.  It’s bitter-tasting and a bit sour.  I can barely stand the taste of it as it flows through my veins and fills my delicate belly with its alcohol, but I don’t stop drinking it.  For once I don’t want to act like a princess or do what my step-mother tells me to do.  I’m finishing this damn beer as if it’s the last drink I’ll ever have.

                The banchee of men are gathered behind me, cheering me on and encouraging m to keep going.  I’m only halfway through as I stop to take a breath. 

                “Give up yet?” The young man says.

                “You wish,” I say.

                I continue to drink the beer and gulp it down until I see nothing but the bottom of the glass.

                By the time I finish the whole stein of beer, I can already feel the alcohol hitting me, making me feel dizzy.  I slam the empty stein back on the bar, resting my head against it catching my breath.  The crowd goes wild, though I wish I could feel more victorious about this.

                “It looks like I lost,” the young man says. 

                Noshi snatches up his two silver from the young man and puts it in his pocket, laughing.

                “I’ll take that,” he says.

                The crowd of men cheer, raising their glasses and hollering for me.   The crowd dissipates and goes back to their ruckus of playing poker, drinking and having a good time.  I, on the other hand, am not doing so good.  It almost feels like my stomach is moving its way up to my throat. 

                “That’ll teach me to doubt a prissy-looking woman, such as yourself.” The man says.

                “I don’t feel so good,” I warn him. 

                Before I could utter another word, I head straight for the doors.  I don’t even make it to the street before I throw up.

                I never thought my first day of actual freedom would consist of me huddled over, puking in the streets of Stylianos over my first chug (not sip) of beer. 

                “Here.”

                A glass of water is handed to me by the young man in the bar. 

                “I had Noshi pour you a glass of water, we both knew that beer wouldn’t last long.  Your stomach seems too delicate for that.”

                I breathlessly thank him, sipping the water and holding my head down.

                “I’ve never seen you around here before, are you new?”

                I’m not quite sure what to tell him.  Do I tell him that I’m a princess or do I stay incognito? 

                “I don’t get out very much,” I say.

                “My name is Gefen.  I own this bar.”

                “Idola.”

                I’m still catching my breath when announcing my name to him. 

                “Like the princess of Stylianos.  That name has become quite popular with newborn baby girls in the last few months since the prince married her.”

                It’s on the tip of my tongue to reveal my true identity to him, but I don’t. 

                “Thank you for the water.” I hand over the glass.

                I push back my autumn-colored hair and shake the man’s hand. 

                “Leaving so soon?”

                I glance at the clock in the middle of the village square and realize that it is getting pretty late.  My husband will be looking for me if Elma hasn’t said anything. 

                “I have to get home,” I say.

                “Will you ever make your way back here?”

                At this moment, I wasn’t sure what fate lies ahead of me.  If I would be sentenced to my room for all of eternity or if the prince will be off with my head.  Either way, my punishment isn’t looking very alluring.  I don’t answer the bar owner and I boost up onto my feet and make my way back to the stables.