After living and working in Germany, China, Mongolia and Nepal, Rayne Hall has settled on the Sussex coast of England where she writes non-fiction books and short stories. Her tales of memories, fantasy and horror have been published in NocturnalOoze, AlienSkin, The Deepening, Amalgamae, Down in the Cellar, Take A Break Fiction Feast, Fate&Fortune, Rogue Worlds, Futures Mystery Anthology Magazine, Read by Dawn Vol 1 Horror Anthology (hosted by Ramsey Campbell), and of course, Byzarium.

“Look,” Melaine called, waving the bunch of meadow flowers she’d just picked. “What’s that thing flying up there? Just above the plum trees. It isn’t a bird, is it?”

A small object was dancing in the dusk-clouded summer sky.

“It’s a heart!” declared Antonia, who always knew everything. “A flying heart. Male, and quite young.”

“It must be the prince’s,” the third girl, Magda, said. She was well-informed about everything the royals did. “He sent his heart on a quest, because he’s looking for a bride. He’ll marry the girl who captures it.”

The girls looked at one another, then raced indoors, up the stairs, and onto the balcony of Antonia’s bedroom.

The heart drew nearer and nearer. It was a healthy heart, pink, red and purple, full of pulsating energy.

“Come, come,” the girls called, luring it closer with their soft singing voices.

Antonia, who always put more effort into what she was doing than anyone else, and who usually succeeded, leant furthest over the balcony wall. Extending her arm until her muscles hurt, she was sure to be the one who caught the flying object.

Melaine was certain that the heart was coming to her. She was an acknowledged beauty and had caught the hearts of many young men without even trying to.

But Magda also firmly believed that it was meant for her. After all, she was the one who needed and deserved it most, never even having had a date yet. An avid reader of romance novels, she knew that the love of a prince would make everything in her life happy.

They elbowed and kicked one another out of the way. “It’s mine!” – “No, mine!” – “I saw it first!” – “This is my balcony.”

The heart was coming… coming… coming…

All three girls snatched it at the same time.

Greedily, they grabbed and pulled it until it snapped apart. It gushed blood, flapped a little, then went limp.

In the palace, the prince cried and clutched his chest in pain. “I will never marry anyone,” he said. “Because my heart is broken.”