The weight of their gaze bore down on Elena, and she wondered if they were mentally calculating what her children with their son may look like. It took all in her not to wrinkle her nose.

“I think you’ll find Eric has grown quite a bit from what you may remember,” Queen Elisabeth said with a wide grin.

Elena resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she flicked her gaze to the car where the man emerged. Her eyebrows tugged together tightly as she drew her chin back to her chest.

Now easily over six feet tall, Prince Eric straightened, standing higher than her father with broad shoulders that filled out his suit jacket, a chiseled jaw, and sandy blonde hair, a curl of which framed his sparkling blue eyes.

“Eric, the last time I saw you, you were only this high,” her father said with a laugh.

“Not quite so small anymore, Your Majesty,” the man answered, his voice a rich timber. “And Queen Sophia, I remember meeting you as a small boy and thinking how beautiful you were. You still are.”

“Oh, thank you,” Sophia answered. “And you may not remember Elena. The last time you saw her–“

Eric grinned, showing off a dimple in his right cheek. “She slapped me across the face. I remember it well. I do hope to avoid that this time.”

Elena offered him a nervous chuckle as she nodded. “Yes. That tale is still a source of laughs among us. But you seem to be no worse for wear.”

“No, I’m quite fine. Only my ego was bruised.” An assistant hurried toward him with a bouquet of roses. Eric lifted them from the man’s arms and thrust them toward Elena. “For you.”

“Oh,” she answered, a hint of surprise in her voice. “They are lovely. Thank you.”

“I wanted to make a better impression than our first meeting. I hope these help.”

Elena offered him a polite smile as she handed the flowers to Caroline. “Please put these in water and position them where I may see them in my bedroom.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” Caroline answered with a nod as she collected them.

“Shall we go inside?” King Frederick asked as he motioned to the door.

They shuffled into the palace, heading for the sitting room for tea.

Elena eased onto the loveseat as her mother poured the steaming liquid into cups. Eric settled next to her, much to her chagrin. She’d hoped he kept his distance, but he seemed intent on showing interest in her.

“And how’s your travel?” she asked before she lifted her teacup to her lips for a sip.

“Quite uneventful which I suppose is a good thing.” He flashed his dimples at her again, then accepted the teacup from Sophia.

“Yes,I would say so.”

“And how was yours? I heard you were in the States recently. How did you find it?”

“Oh, it was lovely. Very charming.”

“Hmm, I have never cared for it. People seem to rush about there all the time.”

She shifted her weight, keeping the smile plastered on her features. “I did not find them very rushed.”

“Well, I am pleased you enjoyed it.”

“Yes, very much so. Mother tells me you are a painter.”

He chuckled as he pulled a finger sandwich from the tray. “Not much of one, I’m afraid, though I do find it relaxing.”

“I agree,” Elena answered. “I am not very good either. I’m afraid I may be too much like an American, rushing to finish.”

“I don’t rush, I just haven’t any talent for it despite lessons.”

Her smile relaxed, shifting from forced to more genuine at the comment. “And what have you a talent for?”