Angry Prince

I walk into the room on tiptoe, careful not to wake the little thing. The maids said he hasn't slept well today. He must be exhausted, poor boy.

I stand next to his cradle and look at him in silence while my heart starts beating frantically.

How cute he is! His red hair has grown while I was away, and his face is perfectly round. I see they managed to take care of him during the two weeks I was away.

He's sleeping with his mouth open, and his eyelashes throw a reddish shadow on his eyes. His small nose and lips are just like I remember them, and his clenched fists make me want to play with his tiny fingers.

«Oh, my son,» I sigh. «You're becoming so pretty, just like your father!»

At my voice, Lars wakes up. He glares back at me, and I smile, waiting for a grin in return. We stare at each other, directly in the eye, until he opens his mouth and shouts. Then, he burst crying as if I was torturing him.