[July 17th, 1519]

Itinerant as the King of the Romans was, Charles (unfortunately, he thought to himself,) found himself in Innsbruck. His presence had been required to resolve an issue regarding a tax in Tyrol and the resulting payments inflicted on the populace - an issue quickly resolved by only mild maneuvering - and now he laid over in the Kaiserliche Hofburg awaiting the day to break so he may set off on the road once more to his next task.

Charles had no love for Innsbruck. Not even a fraction of the love his grandfather held for the city. It was beautiful, certainly, the air crisp and clear, the hunting and fishing bountiful, but it could not be home. Too many bitter memories remained in this place for it to be a comfort to Charles. It was certainly no Burgundy, no Mechelen. Mechelen perhaps remained the only place in the Empire the young King could feel at peace. He was the King and yet it did not feel as if this was his Kingdom. Perhaps it was the language they spoke, brutish and unforgiving in its nature. Perhaps it was simply that he had not lived in Germany really at any point in his life - perhaps it was simply his grandfathers ire, so easily drawn, that spoiled the land for him so.

These ruminations continued for some time. Lost in thought, Charles was taken aback by what seemed to be the sudden appearance of Henry Tudor.

"A word, King Charles?"

"If one must be spoken."

The exiled Prince gave a short laugh. "No surprise to me that you wouldn't desire my company. Actually, that is precisely what I want to talk to you about." Henry, brash as he was, disregarded formality and took a seat near to Charles. "I cannot blame you for how you must think of me. I've heard how your grandfather treated you - I wish I could bestow upon you a morsel of his care he gave to me."

Charles stayed silent but looked at Henry with tepid interest. Where exactly was this going?

"It's only natural such a situation has given us ample reason to hate each other, but I came to you to offer an alternative." Henry extended his hand. "We have the same goals. We both wish to see my family restored to England, and we both wish for the Empire to be strong and for her enemies to be defeated." Henry paused, hand still outstretched. "My father and your grandfather were not dissimilar men. My father seemed to hate me - no ill towards my niece, yet had my father chosen me as heir, would England be lost to us? I think not."

Charles, reluctant for a moment, took Henry's hand and shook it. "You are right. We cannot allow the problems of the father to become the problems of the son. You were never the problem.. It was always him."

Henry gave Charles a smile, then dramatically leapt from his chair and knelt to the King. "As my liege and friend, then, I pledge to serve you faithfully and loyally until my time on this Earth is done, or my duty calls me to England." He rose to his feet, and gave Charles a salute. "If you need me, you know where I am."

With that, the Prince left the room and Charles to his thoughts, which turned now towards the positive; if nothing else in Innsbruck, he could find comfort in a friend.