Gran sat in her rocking chair slurping a cup of tea while Nesta arranged the flowers she’d picked on the way in a little vase.
‘So you’ll be marrying the Prince then, will you deary?’ quavered Gran. Nesta smiled at her.
‘Yes, Gran’ she answered.
‘Oooh, that is nice,’ said Gran. ‘And tell me, what will you do on your wedding night?’ Nesta sat down at the table and cut them both a slice of cake.
‘Well,’ she said, handing a piece to Gran, ‘I suppose I’ll kiss the prince on top his head, and say goodnight!’ She sipped her tea.
‘Oooh, that’s nice deary,’ said Gran, ‘Look, here’s a tiny pair of pyjamas for him. Make sure you do up all of the buttons now, won’t you?’