Transmigrated Into The Body Of The Cursed Prince Wife-Chapter 281: "Wake up, please..."

Thalia had been standing on a frozen creek the entire time without knowing, and because of the situation, even Zane hadn’t registered it or noticed until the frozen creek gave way beneath his feet and swallowed him into the freezing water, but not before he pushed the princess away before he disappeared into the water.

When Thalia regained her footing, she stumbled to the edge of the cracked water and cried out his name. The power she used in calling out his name seemed to momentarily demand her vocal cords. Panic and helplessness gripped her chest like a vine, and before she could do anything, he resurfaced from the frozen water, shaking and struggling to climb up from the hole.

"Oh, heavens!" she cried out as she helped him out of it and saw the way he was violently shaking, his face ghostly white and his teeth chattering. He crossed his arms over his chest as he forced himself to assure her that he was fine, but she knew, and he knew, he wasn’t. He had just fallen into a frozen creek, for goodness’ sake, and in the middle of a snowstorm!

Being a sheltered princess all her life and having never been in a situation like this, Thalia was trembling violently as well, but hers was from her helplessness and lack of knowing what to do to help him.

But she was smart to remove the cloak he had draped over her and put it around him, and then began to pull him up with all of her might. She wouldn’t allow him to freeze to death if it was the last thing she would do. They weren’t far away from their campsite, and if she could get him there alive before he froze, she would make sure he lived.

"I...I am fine..." Zane tried to assure her, but he could barely open his mouth as the water around it began to freeze and seal it just like his limbs. When she attempted to pull him up, he made it easier for her by pushing himself up.

"That’s it, help me. Yes, keep it up, please," she encouraged through tears as she half-pulled and dragged him back towards the camp, his heavy arm around her neck and hers around his waist. It was surprising how he could push himself to walk despite the way the cold was freezing his clothes to his body, and she knew if she had been the one to fall in that frozen creek, she would have died inside before finding her way back up. He was strong and surprisingly in control of himself despite his condition.

After what seemed like forever, and after stumbling and standing up again, they finally reached the camp where the two other soldiers who had gone to look for the princess hadn’t returned.

Thalia didn’t waste time in dragging him into her tent, as it was bigger and had more space and a few burning lamps that made the tent warmer and cozier than outside. But before they could enter the tent, his legs gave way beneath him, and he fell away from her.

Not willing to give up or give in to her fears, Thalia braced her legs, trying to drag him across the entrance so she could zip the tent, and grunted as she moved his heavy body only a few inches. God, he was heavier than anything she had ever lifted in the twenty years of her life!

Ice pellets stung her face like bees, and the wind was unbelievably cold. After struggling and never giving up, desperation gave her the strength she needed. She threw herself backward, hauling him with her. She fell inside the tent, his weight pinning her to the floor, but his legs were now over the zip entrance.

Panting, Thalia crawled over to the mouth of the tent and wrestled the zip shut. The wind hammered against the tent, as if enraged at being shut out. Not hearing any more movement from Zane, she knew without a doubt that he was in bad shape and she needed to act fast or he would die.

Frantically, she knelt beside him, brushing away snow and ice that crusted his clothes and the shawl wrapped around his neck.

"C-can you hear me?" she asked shakily. "Are you awake?"

He was silent, limp, not even shivering anymore, which she’d read somewhere in a book written by a scholar was a bad sign. She pushed back the cloak she had used to cover his face and then used her sleeve to wipe the snow from his eyes. His skin was white with cold, his lips blue. From the neck down, his clothes were wet and coated with a sheet of ice.

Scared and panicked, Thalia moved to increase the burning lamps used to warm up the tent at night. There were five of them in the tent, and she increased their flames to the highest she could get them to. Done with that, she turned to the still man lying on the side of the flat bed in the space.

Without even thinking about it, she moved closer and began to wrestle with his stiff clothes. She began to undress him while muttering a few silent prayers and asking for forgiveness because she was about to strip the clothes off a man that wasn’t her husband. But his life meant more than anything to her at this point, and she would do anything to make him live—anything.

She took off his thick gloves first, then his coat. She moved down to his feet and began unlacing his boots, then tugged them off. He wore two pairs of socks, and she determinedly peeled them away. His feet were icy. Moving back up, she began unbuttoning his shirt but briefly paused to notice how the shirt stretched tight across his chest and broad shoulders.

His heart was still beating, but only faintly. But that was enough to assure her that he wasn’t dead yet. It was nothing less than a miracle that he had managed to swim back up from the water. By logic, he should have frozen to death before she dragged him here. And unless she could get him warm, he might yet freeze to death!

Thalia had never done anything like this before, but thank goodness she was a bookworm who read not only about romance but books to help her learn fascinating things. She knew what she had to do to get him warm, but may the heavens forgive her for it. She didn’t want to think of the consequences as not to discourage herself, so she focused only on the task of getting him out of the clothes.

She tossed aside all the shirts, and then she went for his trousers. The buttons were coated with ice, and she fought with the stiff fabric with shaky hands, using sheer force to get his trousers off.

Finally, he lay on the floor in a puddle of melting snow and ice, clad only in his underwear. She started to leave them on, but they were wet too, and getting him warm was more important than preserving his modesty and hers. She stripped them down his legs with shaky, nervous hands and tossed them onto the pile of his other wet clothes.

Thalia dared not to look at his nakedness. She kept her eyes only on his pale face. Now she had to get him dried off and wrapped up. She ran out of the tent and went to the ones next to hers to get as many blankets and lamps as she could.

She raced back to the tent. Zane hadn’t moved a muscle from his sprawled position on the floor, and neither had the soldiers returned. She dragged him out of the puddle, still daring not to let her gaze drift.

Hastily, she dried him, then spread one of the blankets on the flat bed and rolled him onto it with her eyes closed. Wrapping it around him, she then brought all the lamp heaters closer to him.

"Please don’t die on me... you have to fight and wake up..." Thalia whispered softly. Her muscles were trembling with exertion, but she turned to place the linens she had gathered from the other tent on the heat to warm up. When she brought them down, the fabrics were so hot she could barely hold them in her hands.

She wrapped one around his head while silently praying he would wake up before she was left with no other choice but to do it the other way she had learned in the anatomy books owned by the Royal physicians she used to read. When there was not much improvement, Thalia knew she had to do it now or lose him forever.

Her reputation was already bad enough for being married once. She didn’t expect another man to marry her again, and if she would be living the rest of her life alone and lonely, she didn’t see why she had to worry about what she was about to do.

Closing her eyes and bracing herself, she then quickly began to take off her own clothes. She stripped off her dress and every other layer underneath it until she was bare and nervous to death, but the life of the man she loved depended on how fast she could warm him up, and she wasn’t about to let her teachings and modesty convince her otherwise. freeweɓnovel.cøm

Grabbing up the other blanket, she put it over the flame to heat it up. Then, throwing open the blanket she had wrapped around him, she placed the warm blanket over him, tucking it around his cold feet; then she slid under it with him.

She’d read it in the physician’s book that shared body heat was the best way to combat the condition he was in now. Thalia pressed herself close to his cold body, forcing herself not to flinch as his icy skin touched hers.

Oh, Lord, he was freezing cold! She got on top of him, put her arms around him, pressed her warm face to his. She massaged his arms with nervous fingers and then his shoulders. She then tucked his hands under her belly, cupped her hands over his ears until they warmed. She slid her feet up and down his legs, stroking away the cold, massaging the blood through his veins.

He groaned, a faint sound whispering past his parted lips.

"Wake up, please..." she murmured as she stroked his face. His face wasn’t as pale as before, and his lips weren’t as blue. His lips were slightly parted now.

The cloth around his head had cooled, and she unwrapped it and slipped out from underneath the blanket to reheat it before she came back and placed it back around his head. Then she crawled back underneath the blanket with him again. He was tall, and she wasn’t; she couldn’t reach all of him at once. She slid down and warmed his feet with hers, curling her toes over his until his flesh caught some body heat.

Moving back up his body, she lay on top of him again. He was hard with muscle, and she fought the urge to touch him in a personal way she wished to do. She only rubbed his body with hers because it was needed to bring him back. And to her relief, he began to shiver underneath her.

Thalia held him, murmuring and begging him not to die on her, trying to get him to at least talk to her. She wouldn’t mind if he woke up and said harsh things to her anymore, he could call her selfish and anything he wanted for as long as he lived.

He moaned again and sucked in a quick breath. He made a sharp movement with his head, dislodging the cloth. The heat had dried his hair; it looked dark in the light of the tent. Thalia tucked the cloth back around his head to keep him from losing any precious body heat he had gained, and, unable to help herself, she stroked his forehead, his cheeks.

"Wake up, Zane. Open your eyes and talk to me." She whispered to him, unconsciously using his name for the first time to both reassure him and entice him to respond to her.

The faint, occasional shiver began to intensify. They wracked his body, roughening his skin, contouring his muscles. His teeth clenched and began chattering.

Thalia held him through the convulsive shaking. He was in pain, barely conscious, groaning and breathing hard. He tried to curl into a protective ball, but she held him too tightly. "You’ll be fine." She kept telling him. "Wake up, please. Open your eyes..." She cried this time in fear of him dying now.