Home/The Ice Age Came? And I Just Got Married?!/ch 42

Chapter 42.

I stared at Clare in surprise. She tilted her head, puzzled.

"What's wrong?"

"Ah—Lieutenant Wayne, by any chance..."

I started to bring up Crown Prince Aiden, then stopped myself.

Should I even ask?

After a moment's hesitation, I cautiously spoke.

"You know His Royal Highness the Crown Prince, don't you?"

A pause.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I must have been mistaken."

I decided not to press further—Clare didn't seem to want to talk about it.

Clare was the protagonist Aiden's first love. But she was the illegitimate child of a humble family—her status didn't match Crown Prince Aiden's.

Their love was doomed from the start, and in the end, Clare enlisted to forget him.

It seems she still has feelings.

The fact that she didn't want to talk about it probably meant she still had lingering emotions.

Just as I was concluding that, Clare sighed.

"I'm sorry—we do know each other. I just don't want to talk about that son of a bitch."

"...Pardon?"

I was so flustered my words came out wrong.

In the novel, Aiden was portrayed as still pining over his first love, so I hadn't expected this reaction.

The protagonist, Aiden, believed his first love Clare was dead, and he struggled to forget her.

As a protagonist, he became entangled with various women. Later, when he learned Clare was alive, he met her again—but by then, he already had another woman by his side.

So Clare let him go cleanly, staying only as a member of the survival camp, and played a brilliant role.

But Aiden wanted to win her back, torn between his current woman and his past love—something along those dramatic lines.

"You two must not get along."

I pretended not to know, since she hadn't revealed the nature of their relationship.

"As a soldier, calling the Crown Prince a son of a bitch is a court-martial offense—but with things as they are, is there even a royal court or military command left? If I can't call him a son of a bitch, then who the hell can I call one?"

She'd said "son of a bitch" four times already.

"But how did you know I know His Highness?"

Logan looked at me, also curious.

"Ah—I think I saw an article about it a while back."

"That article was collected and suppressed by the royal family immediately after publication—you're lucky to have seen it."

Clare smiled bitterly.

To be honest, I hadn't seen it myself—I remembered it from the novel.

"What happened between you and His Highness?"

"I can't say."

Clare refused firmly, with an apologetic look—so I couldn't press further.

Swoosh— Splash.

The sound of the ship cutting through water broke the heavy silence.

I looked up blankly.

In the novel, Crown Prince Aiden was portrayed as a just and admirable person—an absolute good, a heroic figure. But through Clare's eyes, he was a son of a bitch.

What I know and reality might be different.

That thought crossed my mind.

I shouldn't take the novel too literally—I should treat it as a sort of reference.

Just then, I spotted a white snowfield in my peripheral vision—technically a frozen sea covered in snow.

From here, we'd need to dock and continue on foot.

"About where are we?"

I looked down at the map and asked Clare.

"When I checked the instruments earlier, we were around here."

Clare tapped the sea on the map—close to Rosebrook.

Squeak.

Just then, Pipi, who had been sleeping in my jacket pocket, yawned and wriggled out.

Soon, the baby bird popped out and flapped its wings.

"It's remarkable to see a live bird."

"He's not exactly an ordinary bird."

As soon as I finished speaking, Pipi landed on my head and pecked my scalp—as if he'd taken "not ordinary" as an insult.

"You're cute—stop."

At that, he stopped and flew around again. Clare watched quietly and said,

"He's a mysterious bird."

That was all the commentary she had.

Just then, Pipi flapped his wings frantically and chirped.

Squeak—! Peep! Peep-peep!

What's wrong?

I'd never seen Pipi this excited before—he seemed genuinely startled.

At that moment, we saw something incredible.

A massive animal was walking across the frozen sea.

It looked very much like an elephant I'd seen at an amusement park as a child—but covered in thick fur.

And it had long tusks beneath its trunk. There wasn't just one or two—they were moving in a herd.

"What the hell are they...?"

As we watched the enormous woolly mammoths in awe, the ship came to a stop.

The ice prevented us from going any further.

"We'll have to get off and walk from here!"

Leon called out from the helm.

---

Norton, a suburb of Rosebrook.

The shelter at the city center was originally a noble's mansion.

But now, Crown Prince Aiden and his staff were using it as the provisional headquarters of the kingdom.

The conference room was the same.

A long meeting table occupied the spacious room that had once been a ballroom.

Most of the paintings on the walls had long been removed.

In their place hung regional maps, supply status charts, and refugee movement routes.

The windows were covered with thick wooden boards, and the gaps were stuffed with cloth and wool—but cold air still seeped through.

A large cast-iron stove stood in the center of the room.

Coal crackled and heat radiated—but it wasn't enough to warm the entire spacious room.

The staff attended the meeting in layers of coats.

On the table lay not only maps and documents but also coffee cups.

Everyone's breath was faintly visible.

A large strategic map was spread across the table.

Red pins marked survivor strongholds, black pins marked cities that had lost contact, and white pins covered areas already swallowed by ice.

Before it sat Crown Prince Aiden—a handsome man with waist-length blue-gold hair loosely tied.

Since the apocalypse, Aiden had remained there, receiving reports from all regions.

Instead of the golden throne of the palace, he sat on a worn oak chair.

As he conferred with his staff, Aiden suddenly turned around.

There was no one behind him.

"What's wrong?"

His royal knight, Vincent, asked.

"Nothing—I just felt like someone was talking about me."

Aiden tilted his head, straightened his posture, and scanned the handwritten reports.

"How's the situation in Rosebrook?"

"The reconnaissance team reported seeing something remarkable."

"Remarkable?"

"We reported last time that there was a massive frozen tidal wave about to swallow Rosebrook."

"Right."

"It's gone."

Aiden's pen stopped.

"...I don't understand."

Vincent pulled a large pouch from his coat and placed it on the table.

Inside, a Redstone was visible.

"Your Highness named them 'Winterstones'—and remarkably, the people of Rosebrook are calling them the same thing."

"Strange coincidence."

"Yes. And it seems the Duchess of Cheshwind can freely use the power of Winterstones."

At Vincent's words, the conference room stirred.

Aiden rested his chin on his hand and nodded—indicating for him to continue.

Vincent continued.

"While on reconnaissance, we saw her disappear along with the tidal wave that was covering Rosebrook. I believe I was the only witness."

"She becomes more interesting by the minute."

With that, silence fell.

Aiden tapped the table with his fingertips for a long moment before speaking.

"I'll have to meet the Duchess of Cheshwind myself."

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