There was certainly no Michelle around to answer Jaime's -- or Verisira's -- question.  There was only a tavern full of people startled by the girl's sudden outburst, and an annoyed (if somewhat disinterested) bartender that scolded her nearly knocking over a drink.  "Hey, watch it, kid," he said.  "I don't wanna have to clean up after ya."<br/><br/>Others in the tavern were growing a bit more interested, though -- it was hard enough for her to keep to herself with the kind of clothes she was wearing, and the sudden outburst didn't help at all.  For all that the barmaids with their low-cut tops caught the attention of the drunk and increasingly disorderly crowd, they were nothing compared to the revealing and more elegant attire that Jaime found herself in now.  Leering eyes from both men and women kept to her.<br/><br/>The bartender, despite his distinct grump, seemed to be the only one to notice just how uncomfortable the girl at the bar was, and the way she struggled to cover herself.  "You got a problem, kid?  Something wrong?"