He walked next to me, his hand on the small of my back as he guided me into the room where the operation was supposed to take place.

It looked like a sanctuary. The floor was made up of hundreds of tiny pink and white tiles, the room covered in a huge glass dome filled with intricate patterns. There were plants everywhere; trees and flowers and little cactus. The room was well-lit and from the glass dome hung several large glass beds, some filled with lush blankets and pillows while some only had a plain mattress. The beds were like giant bowls hung on golden chains; it looked like a place for royalty.

But I knew, I would not be gaining a crown here. I would be saving one.

I the guard escorting me stopped, but I continued walking. I stood on a circular section of blue tile in the middle of the room and waited. After a few moments the platform began to elevate as the glass dome above me shifted, the centre splitting into several pointed sections and each section retreating back into the dome, opening up a hole directly above me. It was like magic, the way that my unsupported platform lifted me through the new exit point, the circular tile fitting perfectly through the hole in the ceiling. I took a deep breath before stepping off, into the outside of the dome, and turned to watch as the platform retreated into the floor beneath me before the dome once again closed.

I turned away and looked at my surroundings, beginning to move towards the only thing in sight: a small bed, not glass like the ones inside the dome but instead the legs were made of interlocking silver metal, the bed itself narrow and blue. A hospital bed. Next to it was an identical one, except this one housed a human being- if she could be called that.

She had violet eyes, vibrant even through the dimness of her illness. Her hair was black as night, cascading over her shoulders in perfect waves, and she wore a midnight blue dress embroidered with sequins that seemed to shimmer and twinkle like the stars. She was very beautiful- or at least she would have been if her skin was not so sickly grey, and if she had not looked so frail and weak she may fall apart at any moment.

I stood taller as I was reminded why I was doing this. The woman I was looking at was the Princess of Macadalia, and she needed something of mine- my heart.

She had been sick for months, her heart beating slower and slower until it was barely operating anymore. She hadn’t been conscious in over two weeks, though her eyes never closed. The doctors and royal family had tried to press them down, but they stayed open, as if the Princess was still there and didn’t want to give up yet. She wanted to see. Her heart had been made partially of an iridescent marble substance, something that provided her with her magic.

All of the royal family had hearts like hers, but they could not give up one of their own, even to save the princess. And she couldn’t survive with a total lack of the marble substance, as it had become so integrated in her body that taking it away completely would drive her insane. So they had to find a descendant of the royal family, from an affair of some sort decades or even centuries ago. Affairs with in the royal family weren’t uncommon, after all, as most royal marriages were for advantage rather than love. They had searched the kingdom, testing all the people’s blood for weeks.

And then they found me.

Apparently my great-great-great-great grandfather had been a prince, though he was the youngest of many and never became king. Because of this, my heart has a portion of the marble. Not much, but hopefully enough to keep the princess alive and sane.

Now, a week later, I am on my last moments before I give my life for my kingdom. This should be an honor; I should be glad to do this.

But I am not. The royal family has been corrupt and selfishfor generations, and the princess couldn’t be any better. She will become queen one day because of my death, and she will rule for herself instead of her people. I should be honored; instead I am angry.

The doctor appears and snaps me out of my train of thought, motioning to the bed next to the princess. The operation has to be done here because the dome is the highest and most magical point in the city, and the only place that the princess can breathe comfortably.

I lay down on the bed and close my eyes. It’s time.

A/N: The lore for this was thought up during writing. I honestly have no clue what’s going on or why the princess is dying. I’m thinking about expanding on this but I’m not sure yet, I’d have to think up the magic system and all that first and I have way too many WIPs as it is. Also, I know the prompt said 10 lines but I got carried away. Oh well, I’ll get it next time.