When the Maester kept a firm grip on her and kicking was doing no good, Genna's movements gradually slowed until they stopped altogether, leaving the Maester holding a limp, sobbing, sodden ball of six-year-old misery who was suddenly clinging to him.
Genna's eyes caught on her mother standing a little way away, just... standing. The tears started in again and Genna turned away from her mother. The poor young Maester stared helplessly at the Queen. "Your Grace, what should I--?"