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Lars.”
    Lars felt his cheeks burn in humiliation.
    “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s normal,
especially among people your age.” Loyl said. “I wouldn’t care if
you went off together and pleasured your bodies—it’s just that I
gave Simon my word that I would encourage the two of you to keep
things platonic.”
    “You let Rolf and Lindsey go off together,”
Josie complained.
    “Her parents didn’t bind me by my word.”
    “Please,” Josie pleaded. “Give us ten minutes
alone. What can possibly happen in ten minutes?”
    “A lot,” Prince Loyl said.
    “Five minutes.”
    “No. We could still use those berries though.
I will send Hogard with you.”
    “No, thank you,” Josie
humphed, tossing her nose into the air. “And I thought you were
a cool prince,
but nooo, you’re just a stuffy old coot like the rest of ‘em.”
Grabbing an empty burlap bag, she flounced off into the trees
without waiting for the Bulwark. Lars’s eyes followed her in
longing until her silhouette became one withk the shadows. Feeling
like he was withering inside, Lars let out a long sigh.
    “I’m sorry, Lars,” Loyl squeezed his
shoulder. “If it’s true love, this time apart will make the moment
you come together all the sweeter. By the way, what’s a coot?” Lars
shrugged, not feeling like explaining. “When Lindsey gets back,
I’ll look up the definition on her electronic device.”

 
     
     
     
     

Chapter Five
     
    (Josephine Rose Albright)
     
    After supper around the fire Loyl borrowed
Lindsey’s tablet. When he looked up, he shot Josie a vexed stare.
Returning it to Lindsey, he announced that he needed to stretch his
legs and left. The next day, Loyl acted cold toward Josie—speaking
only when necessary, refusing to look her in the eye. She didn’t
understand why until Lindsey showed her the tablet’s history.
    “Does this have anything to
do with why he’s been so sulky?” Lindsey asked accusingly. “Leave
it to you to offend a totally gorgeous Regalan prince.” Josie
grabbed the tablet. The last dictionary entry that had been
accessed was coot: a foolish person,
typically an old man.
    Could a rugged outdoorsman really be so
easily offended? Princes must be unaccustomed to direct
ridicule—even in jest. Realizing that she had hurt his feelings,
and probably his pride, Josie was determined to smooth things over.
But how?
    Finding a moment to apologize was awkward
because other people were always around. Josie realized how hard it
must have been for Lindsey to admit her role in the guitar
conspiracy and apologize in front of the entire squad. The next
evening, when they were bedding down for the night, she waited for
Loyl to fall asleep and snuck over to speak with Lars.
    “Prince Loyl is mad at me.
I think he took it wrong when I called him a stuffy old coot .”
    “Is there a right way to take that?”
    “What should I do?”
    “Apologize.”
    “I figured that,” she snapped acerbically. “I
can’t get up the nerve in front of everybody.”
    “I like the old custom of writing notes on
paper.”
    “Yeah,” Josie giggled, remembering the cute
note he had left on her birthday present. “I know.” She leaned over
and gave him a peck on the forehead. “A note it is, then.”
    Returning to the blanket she shared with
Lindsey, Josie dug through her bag until she found a small notepad
of paper and a pen. She had packed them, intending to journal her
trip between the notepad’s sturdy plastic cover. Her good
intentions hadn’t quite panned out. She tore out a blank page and
wrote:
     
    Dear Prince Loyl of the House of the White
Rose:
     
    I am sorry for calling you
a stuffy old coot. I behaved like a spoiled child and that was
wrong. How old are you anyway—like twenty-five or something? Even
though it kind of sucks for me and Lars, I admire you for keeping
your word to his dad. I think you are a good leader. Smart and very
wise in your decisions. I like it when you sing. You could have
been a