THE NEXT FIVE DAYS passed in utter and complete bliss, or at least a reasonable facsimile thereof. My days were spent watching Walker and his team perform in the competitions, rooting on the Three Dog Knights during the competition hours, training with Walker in the off hours, spending my nights with my knight . . . and falling deeper and more irrevocably in love with each beat of his heart.
The time wasn’t without moments of lunacy, however. When I trained with Walker, he ceased being my adorable dream knight, turning into Walker the Hun, scourge of my life. We argued about everything, from the way I held the lance to the fact that I had stolen his favorite black Venetian hat and claimed it for my own (it was a very cool hat and looked good on me, a fact Walker had to admit one night whe
