Right Hand of the Pirate Queen

36. JUST DESSERTS

It wasn't just Milo. Rivra, Krol, and pretty much every other guard and soldier standing within viewing distance of this strange spectacle, the fierce, merciless Scrapster King hugging his long-lost daughter, tears streaming down his face, didn't know what to make of it. A few of the warriors coughed, their armor clinked as they shifted uncomfortably. Milo feared even breathing would draw attention from the massive King, but Rivra looked the most shocked, her mouth slightly agape. Her muscles twitched as she refused to return her father's hug. Or, rather, she couldn't, as her father's arms had pinned her own against her body.

Eventually, the King pulled away from his daughter and looked into her face. His eyes still flowed with tears like an oil leak. He swallowed hard as he gave the bandanna covering her eyes a hard look. "So, it is true," he said. "You have lost your eyes. The Eyes of God."

This seemed to snap Rivra out of whatever trance she had been under, and she shrugged her father off, puffing out her chest and planting her hands on her hips. "Yes. They were stolen from me. But that doesn't mean you can treat me like a child."

Milo winced at her tone. He thought for sure the King would lash out. Daughter or not, the King certainly looked like he would kill someone for breathing wrong in his direction. Instead, the King's tears flowed even more freely, snot now dribbling from his nose and joining the river of tears on his face. "B-but! My little apple! I've missed so many years! So many memories we haven't made! Your first boyfriend! Your first date! Your second boyfriend because I killed the first one for not being good enough!"

Krol scratched his beard. "Y-you didn't care about any of those things with me, father."

"Not now, Krol, I'm catching up with your sister. My little apple! Why don't you introduce me to this...uh...who is this, anyway?" The King had turned his black eyes on Milo, and Milo could feel all of the muscles in his body harden like stone. "I can certainly smell you all over him...does that mean...is this puny lifeform...?" A murderous look grew in the King's eyes, and Milo swallowed hard.

"M-my name is Milo Moody, your majesty." Milo bowed, hoping he didn't just violate any intergalactic cultures. "Rivra is my...mentor. She's the best fighter I've ever seen, so she's been training me to make me stronger."

The King's eyes lit up, and for the first time since he had shown up, a big smile crossed his face. "Is that so?! That's excellent to hear! My daughter is the finest warrior in the universe! Of course she would never accept someone as puny as you as her lover!"

Milo kept his head bowed, mostly because he didn't want the sting from the King's words to show on his face. He chuckled. "N-no, sir, of course not. I am...unworthy of that."

Rivra turned her head toward Milo, but turned back toward her father and cleared her throat. "Father. We aren't here just to visit. I know who you have here, and we won't leave until-"

The King wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned her to face the mob of warriors. "Men! My daughter has returned! Today is a great day! We shall feast and drink and be merry! Then we'll do it all again tomorrow! And for each day of the week! We shall call this week of celebration Rivrakoth, after my beautiful little apple!"

Applause and cheers erupted from the crowd of soldiers as they dropped their weapons and crowded around them, jostling and rooting like frat boys on a Friday night. Milo was swept up in a sea of thick, tree-trunk legs and rank, unshowered musk. He bounced between a few of them like a pinball, his head spinning, his danger sense vaguely prickling as one of the giant legs was preparing to unknowingly trample him. But a pair of arms swooped in and carried him to safety outside of the crowd.

Krol set Milo down and grinned at him. "Close call there, eh, little buddy?"

"Oh, Krol. Thank you. Thought I was going to die there for a second."