Transmigrated Into The Body Of The Cursed Prince Wife-Chapter 290: Responsibility

"What do you want from me?" she asked as she stopped her crying to turn to meet his eyes.

She was startled for a moment to see the anguish in them as he stared down at her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as he watched her in concern and remorse.

"Were you in pain after I left you that night? Did I hurt you?"

He closed his eyes when she didn’t reply and cursed himself. Of course, she must have been in pain. It had been her first time, and he’d taken her roughly. He had obviously caused her pain, both emotionally and physically.

No woman should be treated the way he had treated her. He had been a bastard for not mustering the courage to apologize to her sooner after everything.

Zane had grown up blaming each one of the Pendragons for everything he had lost, and even up until now, he still harbored a little hate for them whenever he saw how happy they were together.

But he tried to tell himself that it wasn’t their fault and the man responsible for his loss had died. The day he had lost his brothers in Gina and his parents still haunted him at nights he lay to sleep. He could still recall watching them burn in flames while he couldn’t stop it.

Before Gina was attacked, his family had thought he was unfortunate for not inheriting the witch powers, but his misfortune had saved him in the end while he watched them die.

He had sworn to avenge them. He had hated every one of the Pendragons the first day he was brought with the other kids, and if it weren’t for Lucian’s mother, he would have been a man darkened by his hate and grief.

She had given him a home and family. She and Lucian had been his family. He had limited his hate for them while he sent his resentment towards the other children of Emperor Alaric.

Princess Thalia had tried countless times to be nice to him, even though it had been indirectly; however, his resentment for them all had made him not see her.

She was invisible in his world until that day on the balcony.

He had hated her because he believed she’d done that on purpose. There were many occasions in their childhood he’d had encounters with her but always brushed them away as nothing because he didn’t want to see her.

He didn’t want to acknowledge her kindness until recently when he could see how much she had changed.

He had been willing to let go of his resentment that day she ran away on their journey back, believing she was helping them by lifting away a burden. He had promised to be friendly to her and let go of his hate. He would have been a friend to her until he had gone on and done that with her.

No respectable lady would risk her reputation to save a manservant. But she had, and he’d insulted her kindness by taking her innocence.

She had saved his life, but he had done something unforgivable to her and left her to it.

"Will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me, Princess?" he whispered hoarsely, his fingers trembling as they hovered near her shoulder as if wanting to touch her but fearing she would recoil.

She said nothing and only stared at him with tear filed eyes.

Tentatively, he touched her, and when she didn’t flinch or pull away, courage flared within him, and he touched her shoulders. Slowly, his hand slid up to cup her flushed cheek, his thumb grazing the warm skin, the skin a servant like him had no right to touch or be close to.

She was trembling beneath his touch as she tried to hold back her sobs, and when tears spilled freely down her cheeks, he couldn’t stop himself. He wiped them away, his fingers tender yet desperate, before sliding them to the back of her neck.

Pulling her forward, he cradled her to his chest, pressing her head against his heart. His hand stroked her hair as his eyes squeezed shut, every shaky sob that escaped her lips a dagger to his gut.

"I’m so sorry, Princess," he murmured, his throat constricting as he felt her slender arms wrap around his waist and her cries grow louder, rawer.

"I hated you," she choked out, her words muffled against his chest.

"I hated you for the way you treated me. I... I didn’t know it would feel like that, that it would hurt like that even though it felt good at some point." Her voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, his hand pausing mid-stroke on her hair as she began to pour out her mind without an ounce of shame or the shyness he had expected.

But then, what was there to shy away from when they had done that and had been naked against each other? Her shyness must have faded away along with the innocence he had taken from her.

"When you left, I was terrified of the blood on my thighs," she continued, her voice rising with emotion.

"You were so large, and I... I felt ripped apart. I bled so much, I thought I would never feel normal again—" She hiccupped, her nails digging into his waist.

"And then you made me ride a horse the next day like nothing had happened. Do you know how much pain I was in, how it felt like fire every time I moved? You were cruel, and I thought—"

"Princess," he rasped, trying to interrupt her, but her words tumbled out unstoppably as she clutched his shirt and drenched his front with hot tears that seemed to seep into his skin, burn a chord in his heart, and made him feel even guiltier about everything.

"I thought you saw me as nothing after you did that. I thought I must have disgusted you after that you didn’t bother to look back at me and ask how I felt. That I must have been so... so dirty for you to just leave me there."

Her voice broke, and she sobbed harder, her face still buried in his chest.

"Princess, stop," he said, his voice rough, his fingers tightening in her hair. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

"I was angry and scared of you after that night," she whispered. "Scared of how much I wanted you even after the pain, scared of the way you made me feel when you touched me, even though it hurt. Scared because I didn’t hate your touch or the feeling of you inside me."

He couldn’t take it anymore. Her words and tears all clawed at his insides until he felt like he was coming apart. She had always been nothing but nice to him, but he always found ways to paint her in a bad light. He had to make amends and put an end to this all.

Gripping her face between his hands, he tilted her head up to meet his gaze.

Her tear-filled eyes locked with his, and his own were dark with regret, guilt, and something else he never thought he would feel for the princess.

"Princess," he caressed her cheeks with his thumb.

"You don’t know how much I’ve hated myself for what I did to you. But you’re wrong if you think I ever found you disgusting. You’ve haunted me every day and night. Your taste, your scent, the way you felt against me..." He took in a sharp breathe.

"You were the most exquisite thing I’ve ever touched. You are."

Before she could say another word, he crushed his lips to hers, silencing her with a kiss that was both an apology and a plea. It started slow, reverent, but quickly became demanding, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting the salt of her tears. His hands buried themselves in her hair as he kissed her deeply, pouring every ounce of remorse and longing into it.

She clung to him, her hands fisting his shirt as his lips devoured hers. He kissed her until her sobs turned to soft whimpers, until her body melted against his, until the only sound in the room was the ragged cadence of their breathing.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, his hands still cradling her face. His voice was barely a whisper as he said,

"I can make this right. I will make everything right by taking responsibility for taking what was never mine. I will tell your brother everything and ask him to give you to me to marry."

He caressed her cheeks tenderly as her eyes widened at his words. She began to shake her head when his words finally registered in her hazy head.

Thalia had many reasons to be against this, and three of the important ones were: One, she would never trap a man who didn’t love her in a marriage he would never have wanted had the circumstances not been like this, and two, she hadn’t given herself willingly that night to achieve this, and then lastly, her brother would kill him before he would dare ask him to give her to him.

She loved him, and though she had tried to convince herself otherwise all these days, she wasn’t going to let him feel trapped with her because he had taken her innocence.

She would have wanted more than anything to marry her dream man but not like this. Because he felt guilty or thought he must do it as a form of responsibility.

She knew in her current situation, she should be glad that he was even willing to marry her. She had been willing to live a life of a spinster and would rather live it than trap him.

Thalia looked up into his hazel eyes that regarded her patiently,

"You don’t have to marry me. I have forgiven you, really. Let us put everything that happened that day aside and continue with our lives. I am not the woman you want, and my brother would never agree to it." She tried to reason, but he cupped her cheeks and shook his head.

"I want to marry you. Let me do it. I can talk to your brother and—"

"He will kill you first the moment he hears the reason you are marrying me!" she cried out.

She knew her brother better than anyone. He had promised she would never lose her royal title and would only marry a prince who he thought deserved her. Zane was not a prince, and her brother had never been fond of him. He was everything her brother warned her against.