The Princess quickly skimmed the box the puppy had sat in away from its path as it lolloped around, not having any care for where it was going. Almost childlike in his enthusiasm, she thought.
"That head of yours is mine" she quipped, not giving two hoots for whether they would have children first or not. Really, it was a blessing that no-one could guarantee the timing of, and resentment otherwise was petty. Finishing the letter, she smiled and set it back in the folder, smiling as she recognised the handwriting of her mother's cousin, the King of France.