Skinny Love ▷ T'Challa Udaku

1 - AN HONOR

1994

TO SAY ZARINA WAS DISPLEASED WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT. In all her seven years of living, she had never been in such uncomfortable clothes, and to say that allowing her father to wake her up before the sun even rose to dress her in itchy clothes and pull her hair into an intricate creation at the top of her head was something she found joy in was a sore miscalculation, to say the very least.

Now, Zarina loved her father dearly and, after the death of her mother a few years earlier, she had quickly decided for herself to be as easy to work with as possible, as it was hard enough for her father to cry over her mother, she didn't want him needing to cry over her as well. While the loss of her mother had hit them both greatly, the two made it work, though there were moments where Zarina wished she could hold her mother's hand the way she saw other girls do, and moments where Elewa wished to hold his wife one last time, if only to properly say goodbye.

It was because of her loss that Zarina was so observant. She had to be in order to catch the mistakes her father sometimes made when he was trying to teach, but ran low on sleep, pointing out his mistakes and sending him to bed when it became too much. But while she was observant, she didn't have many people to observe, only seeing other people when she and her father went outside to buy food or just be with other people. The best teacher in the Golden Tribe, there was no reason why he shouldn't teach his daughter, but with that came a lonely child.

She understood, of course, and appreciated all her father did. He raised her, took care of her, didn't abandon her, even when the others at the school who had given him time to grieve said they wouldn't be surprised if he gave up living entirely. A girl of only seven, she wasn't entirely sure of what they meant, but she understood enough to do all she could to make sure her father never gave up and left her to be truly alone.

But that didn't mean she couldn't be incredibly stubborn if she wanted to.

"Baba," she whined, stomping her foot against the road, catching the attention of the few who were already awake, "I don't want to go to the palace. Why does it matter?"

"I told you," her father sighed, bending down to carry her despite her protests, "I am going to my new job now. I will be teaching the prince how to be a king."

"Why doesn't his father just do that?" she huffed, "You teach me, can't he teach him?"

"Well, he will be," her father said, hoping that his daughter would know to keep her words to herself when in the presence of the king, "But I am there to aid. There will also be teachers to guide him through his warrior training and his spiritual guidance. I am here to give him guidance on basic knowledge, as well as tactical approaches and—"

"I get it," she interrupted, clasping a hand over his mouth before he wore himself out, "That's nice, baba, but why do I have to be there?"

He gave her a long suffering smile. "Because I want you to meet your king and your future king. It will be good for you to interact with other people."