Henry VIII yawned and stretched his arms out. He was lying in a plush bed with a woman beside him. He smacked his lips a few times before tossing the blanket off of himself, causing the woman to groan in her sleep. With another yawn, Henry VIII stood up whilst scratching his bare butt. He brought his fingers to his face and sniffed them before wrinkling his nose. Then, he took his robe off of his chair and put it on. A letter on his desk caught his attention. “Oh, when did this arrive?”

Henry VIII rubbed his pounding temples and figured someone must’ve delivered it during the night while he was drunk. He picked the letter up, and his eyes brightened. The wax seal belonged to Charles V; it wasn’t a fake this time. His smelly fingers tore the seal, and the scroll unfurled. Henry straightened it and squinted. The letters were tiny; they had to be to fit on the small piece of paper. That’s why he was pushing his pigeon caretakers to make the pigeons larger, but all they did was smile at him while delivering empty promises. His lips curled just thinking about it, and he shook his head before bringing the scroll close to his face.

“This…, what?” Henry’s brow furrowed. “What the heck is this? Another fake letter? Who’s the minister that vetted this one? I’ll have him framed for witchcraft and beheaded.”

“Honey?” the woman in the bed asked? She rolled over, covering herself with the blanket as she sat up. “Is everything okay?”

Henry’s stiff face relaxed, and he tossed aside the letter. “Everything’s fine,” he said. “Yesterday, someone sent me a fake letter using Charles’ pigeon. A supposedly real letter arrived today, but it’s filled with a bunch of nonsense. One of my ministers is definitely forging his letters, but does he really think I’m that dumb?”

A small smile appeared on the girl’s lips. “What did the letter say?” she asked and slightly lowered her arm, the blanket sliding down to reveal some more skin.

Henry smirked and rolled his eyes. “The fake Charles said he was giving up on the war and that we should all cooperate together. He wants Francis and I to give up our countries and merge with his, creating a super country that’ll be led by the three of us. After we merge our forces, he wants to take over the world: the old world and the new!”

The woman raised her eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea? Wouldn’t it be nice to rule the whole world even if you have to share some of your power?”

“It doesn’t sound bad on the surface,” Henry said. “However, Charles wants me to work with Francis? Is he kidding? Not even a year ago, he declared war on him, and now he wants the three of us to work together? The real Charles would ask me for help to subdue Francis!”

“Did he give you a reason?”

“Yes, a very weird one,” Henry said and opened a bottle of wine that was on his table. He poured it into a glass and took a large gulp. “He said our world was very weak, so pitifully weak. If we wanted to survive, we’d have to join hands. He was even thinking of roping in Suleiman, saying we’re all young rulers who’ve freshly ascended the throne and that peace is better than war.”

“Suleiman?”

“The Ottoman warlord who conquered Rhodes not too long ago.” Henry wrinkled his nose and wet his lips with his tongue, lowering the wine glass. “Charles actually wants us to work together with someone like that because he felt the world was too scary. How can a ruler be afraid of the world?”

“I don’t know.” The woman shook her head and smiled at Charles. “I know you’re not afraid. You’re the bravest man I know.”

Before Henry could respond, footsteps came from outside his room.

“Right over here. He’s right over here, I swear.”

The door burst open, and Henry turned his head, his drink still in his hand. The minister that had brought him the fake letter was standing outside, his face red and covered in sweat. Behind him, there were three people: two men, and one woman. The woman had purple eyes, but those weren’t what attracted his attention. It was her horns, horns that he had only seen in depictions of a devil. Henry’s eyes widened, and he pointed at his minister. “Damn! I was only planning on framing you for witchcraft, but you were actually a witch!?”

The minister’s mouth fell open. “Your Majesty, what do you mean by that? I’m not a witch! She’s a devil, and I’ve been forced to comply with her wishes! If I don’t, she’ll kill me. It can’t be conspiring if it’s done under coercion.”

“Nonsense!” Henry said. He stepped to the corner of his room and picked up a sword. “Begone, devil!”

The purple-eyed devil said something in … German. It was a shame Henry had no idea what she was saying. A moment later, the man behind the devil cleared his throat. “We sent you a letter,” he said. “Her Majesty is the new empress of the Holy Roman Empire, and she wishes to learn more about the red dragon on your coat of arms.”

Henry blinked and nearly dropped his sword. “How did a devil become the empress of the Holy Roman Empire?”

The purple-eyed devil said something else. The man spoke back in hushed German. A moment later, a flower made of ice blossomed on Henry’s sword. He yelped and released the hilt, the blade shattering upon touching the ground. The man cleared his throat. “She became the empress by persuading all the nobles of the empire. With powers like that, how could we refuse?”

Henry swallowed and stared at the broken sword. His father had given it to him. His father’s father had given it to his father. And his father’s father’s father had given it to his father’s father. And now, it was broken despite the care put into it. A bitter smile appeared on Henry’s face; perhaps Charles was right and the world was a little scary.