Zuma sniffled again, lifting her head and rubbing at her eyes before burying her head back into her mother’s shoulder. “I don’t want to!” She was whining, her voice rising almost into a shout as she began to sob. It was not fair. She was not even the crown princess; she should marry whoever she wanted.
She bit her lip, thinking quickly. “Promise I can marry someone I love.” It was a timid, childish command but it was still a demand from her and not a question. “Please?” She added it in a whine, lifting her teary face to look at her mother and pout. “Please, Mama?” She spoke pleadingly, using words she used when she was trying to get her way. If the answer was no, she had absolutely no intention of obeying.