Cursed Prince (Night Elves Trilogy #1) - C.N. Crawford Page 0,79

and then you must pledge fealty to me once more. You will wear the crown, the Helm of Awe.”

The Helm of Awe was a crown that could control your mind, and I had only a hazy understanding of why he wanted all this to happen. With my soul back, I would be a powerful sorcerer. And if I wore the Helm of Awe, I would be a powerful weapon in the king’s arsenal. My magic would be completely under his control. Once, I’d worked for him, but I’d made my own decisions. If I wore the Helm, he’d be making them for me.

King Gorm was rotten to his core, and this would be a disaster. And yet—what choice did I have? I had an immediate problem, and that was saving Ali’s life. The long-term problem would have to wait.

Hazy memories flickered of my past life with him, and a dreadful understanding began to dawn. I hadn’t just worked for him, had I? No… I knew these people much more intimately than that.

King Gorm stepped closer to Ali. “You have three seconds to make your choice.”

Cold fear chilled my blood. I saw the end game now. What I had to do, even if it would kill me inside. I was starting to remember him, to remember me.

“Fine,” I said. “But you must guarantee to me that you will send her back to the Shadow Caverns.”

“What?” said Ali.

I locked my gaze on hers. “You need to trust me. I will look out for you.”

“How touching,” said the king.

“I need your oath,” I said to him. “That you will send Ali safely home if I give you what you want. I’ll wear your crown.”

“Fine.” The king stood tall. “What do I care if a tunnel-elf is in a cave or dead? I give you my oath. I will send her back home safely.”

Grief poisoned my blood at what I was about to say. I felt the weight of it like rocks crushing me.

“Your Majesty,” I said, “if you let her live, I will wear the Helm of Awe. I will join the kingdom once again.”

Chapter 59

Ali

Back to the Shadow Caverns? I didn’t want to go back home. I wanted to free the Night Elves, or all of this would have been pointless. “But what about Galin?” I asked.

The king chuckled softly. “Come to me, my son.”

His what? Marroc was a prince? The history books hadn’t mentioned his name. I only knew of Revna and Sune.

What the Helheim was going on?

I gaped as Marroc—Prince Marroc—began to walk closer to us. “My soul is within Ali. Ali, I won’t hurt you. You have my oath.”

I tried to make sense of this. His soul was in me? It was hard to think straight with the king pressing the wand harder into my skull.

If I hadn’t been bound, I’d have slashed the king’s throat open and demanded answers from the prince. Answers to questions like “where is Galin?” and “how the fuck did I end up with your soul?”

Except the soldiers and their killing hexes would take me down before I got the answers.

Gorm pointed the wand at Marroc. “Kneel and take the pledge, prince. Your true name has been struck from our history for a thousand years, but now it will be restored.”

Shock flickered through me as Marroc knelt. I couldn’t quite believe this was happening, that I’d been with the prince of Elfheim the entire time. His true name…

Dread was sliding over my thoughts.

“Bring forth the crown!” shouted the king. “Place it on his head.”

From the shadows, a guard stepped closer, carrying a silver crown, and he rested it on Marroc’s head.

Slowly, Marroc began to speak. “I pledge my life, my ambitions, my desires, and my soul to Gorm, King of the High Elves.” His deep voice boomed over the amphitheater. “Let the bond last until he releases me. Until then, I am his servant to command however he may desire.”

The silver crown gleamed brighter.

“It is an honor to have you back in my service,” Gorm said. “But you are useless to me in this form. Your magic is smothered by the curse. It is time you were made whole.”

Casually, King Gorm handed him Levateinn. The silver wand hummed in his hand.

Marroc stood tall, peering down at me. Pain flickered in his eyes. He hated his father, didn’t he? But he was doing this for me.

He held Levateinn straight out and slowly began to chant. Its tip shone in the winter light, and silvery magic

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