Page 41 of The Life and (Medieval) Times of Kit Sweetly

“You okay in there, Kit?” Mom pops her head in through my doorway.

I take a deep breath. “I’m fine. Just frustrated by a math problem. It’s no big deal.”

She gives me a disbelieving look, but lets it go. “Okay, I’m headed to the bank. Please try not to Hulk-smash the house while I’m gone.”

I laugh at that. Mom’s a die-hard Marvel fan.

“I’ll keep it together,” I tell her. “Good luck at the bank.”

“Thanks, Kit-Kat. See you later.”

Once she’s gone, I read the Castle email again. Some of my anger has dissipated, and I see now that this doesn’t have to be the end of everything. What my friends and I are doing has momentum already. It doesn’t need the Castle’s blessing.

“Ask forgiveness, not permission,” I say as I move the email to my Deleted folder. If this does all blow up spectacularly, I’ll take the blame. But in the meantime, I don’t want to dash my friends’ hopes. And I certainly don’t want to end the dialogue with Corporate on the note of “great job wenching.”

Rather than write back, I’m going to show them how wrong they are. We’ll have the tournament. We’ll kick ass as Knights. And we’ll fill every seat in that house. How’s that for a reply? Sometimes the fake sword is mightier than the pen.

That just leaves the problem of what to tell my friends. If I tell them the truth, some of them might walk away from the tournament. Or they might be mad that we’ve proceeded this far only to have things fall apart.

Maybe I just don’t tell them and try to figure out a solution between now and next Friday.

Deciding that if anyone asks, I’ll just say: If we can fill the seats, then who’s to argue with that?

Sounds good. Though a seed of guilt stirs in my stomach at the thought of lying to my friends. But a little lie is better than the ugly truth in this case.

Once the email is deleted, I upload two videos of our training sessions to the Girl Knight website. One is us actually doing some things right, and then one’s all bloopers and Alex, Mags, and Lizzy cracking up as they try to stay on their horses while wearing armor. Orders are pouring in for T-shirts and stickers, and we’re getting lots of people taking our interactive quizzes.

The Girl Knight and her band of other Knights will ride at the Castle next Friday. We will fill all the seats. And even if Corporate doesn’t like the idea now, they’ll be hard-pressed to argue with our popularity and our skills.

At least that’s what I hope.

18

I RIDE TO WORK WITH LAYLA ON FRIDAY NIGHT. SOMEHOW A week has already passed since I took Chris’s place as the Red Knight last Friday. I wasn’t scheduled for any shifts during the week, and although I’ve been grateful to avoid Len, I’m in desperate need of some cash.

Today’s training session was the toughest yet for all of us. I’m glad I had some training before, but I feel for the others. Chris drilled us on hand-to-hand fighting for over two hours. Alex and Penny managed to stay on their horses and catch all the rings with the lances we’d made out of garden rakes. And Lizzy brought cupcakes to celebrate the fact that my video is up to half a million views. Our other videos are also picking up steam, and we’ve had some coverage from online news outlets.

“How you doing?” asks Layla as we walk toward Len’s office.

I’ve still not told her about the Castle group rejecting my ideas, and anxiety about that makes it feel like there’s an electric current under my skin. I let out a deep breath. Best to stick to the safe sources of anxiety that she knows all about. At least until I have a better plan in place.

“I’m dreading talking to Len,” I admit. “This could all fall apart if he fires me tonight. What will I tell the others then?”

“You’ve got this, Sweetly. You’re the famous Girl Knight. No man can get you down.”

“Damn right,” I say.

It comes out way more bravely than I feel. Which is fine. Faking it is what we do at the Castle.

Layla gives my elbow a squeeze. “Good luck.”

“If you don’t see me in fifteen minutes, send help.”

“Half a million views and counting,” says Layla bracingly. “You’ve got leverage.”

I think of the comments from my website as I walk into the room. Most of them are from girls all over the country. A few people have even posted videos of their daughters dressed up in knight costumes doing their own Éowyn “I am no man” moments.

The girl who inspired all that is not afraid of facing her boss, even if he also happens to be her uncle.