Home/The Ice Age Came? And I Just Got Married?!/ch 62

Chapter 62.

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Aiden was impressed by the quick thinking of Acorn Village's residents.

A big shot like Rutland, an agent like Brian, and the admiral's daughter Charlotte—all remarkable.

The greenhouse was an unrealistically extraordinary space, and the strange squirrel and bird inside were equally unique.

But his calm admiration slowly turned to anxiety as Logan and Eve's return was delayed.

Come to think of it, Marcus, Vincent, and Nathan were also missing.

"Will they be okay?"

Charlotte muttered with a worried face.

Brian patted her back and said,

"They'll be fine—it's Logan and Eve."

Hearing that, Aiden looked out the window—though covered in leather, it showed nothing.

Soon, they lit candles around the house in the somber air.

They had to save fuel, so lanterns weren't an option.

Come to think of it, this village had an abundance of candles—as if they'd prepared for the apocalypse in advance.

Logan and Eve had apparently scavenged Rosebrook's city center right after the ice age began, gathering whatever they could.

Hmm—they probably prepared beforehand.

But that was just speculation—for now, survival came first.

Whoooosh—

The blizzard howled outside.

Rattle— rattle—

Soon, the windows and doors began to shake.

Even though they'd sealed every gap with leather and cloth, the force was enough to rattle them.

Aiden sat on the sofa, lost in thought. Vincent would be fine—he trusted his knight.

Logan and his wife are more concerning.

And the ever-scheming Chairman Rutland was also a worry.

I thought it was a contract marriage...

What surprised him most was the relationship between Logan and Eve.

He'd assumed Logan wouldn't marry a frail woman from a fallen house without a reason.

But watching them, it seemed Logan was actually the more invested one.

Now forced to spend four days in Eve House, Aiden found Acorn Village even more intriguing.

But that interest didn't last long.

After an hour, then two, even Aiden's composure began to fade.

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Normally, the village's internal temperature stayed around minus ten degrees, regardless of outside conditions.

But now, with the blizzard hitting the village directly, it had dropped to minus seventy degrees.

We knew this because Logan always carried a thermometer.

Anyway, we gathered curtains, carpets, bedspreads, and tablecloths to make a low tent in one corner.

We used the remaining fabric to seal window and door gaps, while Nathan and Marcus broke through the floorboards with axes and shovels and dug a shallow pit.

At first, everyone doubted whether this was right—but after I explained the cold-sink principle, they worked without complaint.

Finally, Logan pressed down the tent edges to secure it—and our temporary shelter was complete.

Outside, the storm still raged.

CRASH—!

Something broke somewhere—and the whole house trembled.

For a moment, everyone's faces stiffened—but fortunately, the house didn't collapse.

We naturally gathered under the tent. It was a bit cramped for five people, but that was actually good.

It was tight enough that we could feel each other's body heat.

Beneath the thick carpet that served as a ceiling, a faint but definite warmth lingered.

Marcus reached out and waved his hand—then said in surprise,

"Really."

"What is?"

"It's warmer than before."

"It's not just perception."

I looked up at the tent ceiling.

"We've reduced the space where heat can escape."

Nathan nodded in admiration.

"To be honest, I was skeptical at first."

"You still are a little, aren't you?"

"Well—not anymore, I think."

He gave an embarrassed laugh.

Just then, Logan lifted me and set me on his lap. When I turned in surprise, he answered calmly,

"It's cramped."

This would only make it more uncomfortable.

But that wasn't what he meant—he was helping me avoid unnecessary contact with the others.

Marcus and Nathan awkwardly looked away, while Vincent still lay there, eyes narrowed and groaning.

Outside, the storm still battered the house—but strangely, I wasn't as scared as before.

The cold air sank to the floor, while the tent held our body heat and a faint warmth.

With the added power of the Redstone, it was actually warm—without it, it would have been just barely survivable.

Now, it felt warm enough to last four days easily.

Of course, Vincent probably thought it was thanks to the Redstone placed among us—he didn't seem to sense the energy radiating from me.

Sitting in Logan's lap, I checked Vincent's wound.

I'd been too frantic earlier to pay attention—but up close, it looked worse than I'd thought.

Peeling back his coat, I saw blood-soaked fabric around his leg.

His right leg had been hit—bruised and torn. I gently pressed around it with my fingertip.

"Urgh."

Vincent winced.

"There might be a fracture."

"..."

"That's not a death sentence, you know."

"From the perspective of someone who needs to serve His Highness, that's not comforting at all."

Ignoring his remark, I turned to Logan.

"Remember that thing we picked up from the Rosebrook weapons shop—do you still have it?"

I meant the Pinkstone. Logan shook his head.

"It's at Eve House."

I'd completely forgotten, thanks to Pipi's help.

That was my mistake.

Though so much had happened that it was understandable.

Pipi, having healed Nathan, was tired and dozing by the Redstone.

"I think we should do some first aid..."

Logan leaned against the wall, tilting his head sideways.

After a moment of thought, he examined Vincent.

"We'll need alcohol."

At Logan's words, Marcus raised a hand lazily.

"I saw a dusty bottle of spirits in the kitchen cabinet. No idea how old it is."

Marcus got up, dressed warmly, and headed to the kitchen. When he returned, his body was covered in frost.

He closed the door and sealed the gaps again.

I stepped out of the tent—Logan had warned that he'd strip Vincent's wet clothes off.

Vincent, too weak to resist, seemed to have surrendered to Logan.

I didn't see what happened after that, but Nathan also came out and stood beside me.

"I want to wash my eyes—I saw things I shouldn't have."

I smiled faintly at Nathan's remark.

While Logan and Marcus attended to Vincent inside, I chatted lightly with Nathan.

"The Duke is truly a good master."

Nathan's eyes showed no hesitation—he believed it completely.

It was a plain statement, but it carried deep trust in Logan and pride in serving the House of Cheshwind.

"A good master..."

There was something I'd wanted to ask Nathan for a while.

"What about me?"

Nathan blinked.

"...Are you asking about your qualifications as Duchess?"

"Yes."

"A Duchess, in my view, is responsible for the household's internal affairs."

Nathan answered as if he'd been waiting.

"Overseeing social engagements, entertaining guests, managing the staff, and maintaining the family's dignity and order. Also, while the Duke governs the estate, the Duchess's role is to ensure the household runs smoothly and support where needed—that's what I was taught."

Nathan recited it fluently, as if he'd been waiting to say it.

I'd expected something like that—I knew how he saw me.

"You're right. But do you know something?"

I smiled.

"Managing a household is easy. An accountant can handle the books, and a butler can greet guests."

Nathan's gaze faltered.

"A household doesn't run on ledgers alone. It's not about doing the work yourself—it's about moving people."

"..."

"A good mistress isn't someone who does everything alone—it's someone who enables everyone to do their part."

The world had already ended—what did a Duchess's qualifications really matter now?

Nathan seemed to value them, so I played along.

But I wasn't doing it out of ignorance.

I just knew that flaunting status and authority wasn't helpful for survival.

Nathan needed to realize that too.

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