Page 90 of Bridget & Gabe Are Not Okay

“Why?”

“Not a mind reader,” he said. “Maybe because of your winning personality in the morning. Or maybe the children will find you novel and interesting.”

Bridget rolled her eyes, then threw soft furnishings at Neil until he got off his cot and came to armor her.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re sulking?” he asked. “Or am I just going to have to guess?” When she said nothing, he sighed. “Oh goody, how I love to play this game.”

“Don’t,” Bridget said sharply. “I mean it, Neil.”

Something in her tone must have conveyed the depth of her despair, because he immediately shut up, a rare treat. They walked to the school, as it was just across the village, and discovered that Gwen, Gabriel, and the guards were already there.

Adah arrived just after Bridget.

“Why’d they ask you to come?” Bridget said, and Adah shrugged.

“I’m handsome. And friendly.” Bridget grunted in disbelief,and Adah laughed. “Your presence, on the other hand, is a total mystery.”

Sir Hurst shepherded them around to the back of the school, where a small gaggle of girls in torn stockings and too-big tunics were waiting.

“Here you go,” he said to them, like he was offering lackluster Yuletide gifts. “Lady knights.”

“You’re Lady Bridget?” said the tallest of the girls, who seemed to have been elected their leader. She had removed her plait from her mouth to say it, but immediately put it back in.

“SirBridget,” said Adah, when Bridget said nothing. They seemed to take this entirely in their stride.

“Sir Bridget,” said a smaller girl, with four missing baby teeth and her hair in intricate braids, “I saw you at the tourney in Shotwick. I had a hot pie, but then I dropped it and I was sad, but then I didn’t mind. I’m going to be a knight.”

“I saw you too,” said the taller girl, speaking around her hair this time. “I’m going to be a knight as well.”

“I’m not going to be a knight,” said another girl, fair-haired and sullen.

“We don’t care, Lily.”

The girl sidled up to Adah, brow furrowed. She had very full, red, pouty cheeks. “But I want to hit boys,” she said. “I want to hit themreallyhard, so it really hurts.”

“Here we are,” said a round-faced brunette woman, appearing from inside the school building with a basket full of kindling. “Wooden swords, for all. Good day to you both, we thank you for coming.”

She lowered the basket, and it was set upon by eager girls, grabbing sticks and then hitting them against the ground and each other to test them for size and durability.

The woman, who must have been the teacher, caught theexpression on Bridget’s face and sighed. “The girls wanted to be trained byladyknights. The princess said you wouldn’t mind running them through some… drills, I think she called it. But if you don’t have the time…”

“No, no,” said Adah. “We’ve got time. You’ve got sticks. It’s a match made in heaven.” She picked up a stick from the basket, hefted it like it weighed a ton, then dropped into a fighting stance. “Everyone grab your swords and watch me and Sir Bridget. In ten minutes you’ll be a legion of knights such as the world has never seen… Oops, watch your stick there, Lily, none of you have helms on. In fact… let’s avoid faces entirely.”

At first, Bridget felt foolish, annoyed that she’d had this task forced upon her, but there was something about the combination of all those violent, serious faces looking up at her and the soothing repetition of returning to beginner drills—all the things she’d practiced with her father, day after day in their courtyard, until she was sent to train elsewhere—that felt like a balm to her wounded heart.

There was a brief and terrifying interlude where one of the girls did actually manage to draw blood from the other, but it was just a graze, and the injured party bravely agreed that they should carry on.

“Head up,” Bridget said, walking down the ranks of little soldiers. “Unclench your fists, Emma, nobody’s trying to take your sword from you. Yet.”

“Is it true,” said Emma, the tall braid-chewer, “that you pulled the sword Excalibur from the stone?”

“No,” Bridget said. “It was a novelty replica. Don’t lean so far forward.”

“My father said that, but my mother said that even so, it was welded to the stone.”

“Well, were they there?”

“No. And that’s good, because lots of people died.”