Home/The Ice Age Came? And I Just Got Married?!/ch 91

Chapter 91.

Logan, still looking shocked, began reading Julian's research journal I'd given him.

"Interesting—so we need to find the Heart of Frost first."

"If we find Julian, we might find the Heart of Frost."

"How do you know that?"

"I saw it—Julian carrying the Heart of Frost. I occasionally resonate with it."

"What?"

Logan looked at me with a serious expression, then stroked his chin in thought.

Is Julian alright?

Anxiety surged again.

Worry for Graham had faded, but Julian and our parents still made my chest tighten.

Even if Graham had warned me about them, this was instinct—my memories of our parents were always good.

"Then we should go find it now."

"My eldest brother is already searching. He's narrowed down the location."

"Hmm—so waiting is the only answer right now?"

I looked at him, feeling lost.

Was I supposed to wait indefinitely with a Logan who'd lost his memory? That didn't seem possible.

"You must hate it too, but there's no choice."

Then Logan spoke.

"Huh?"

"It shows."

I touched my cheek.

"It's written all over your face—you hate the idea of waiting with a memoryless me."

"..."

Did I hate it?

I asked myself.

No—I didn't. How could I hate Logan?

Logan must have gone through this countless times—why couldn't I?

He'd met a version of me who was always new. Reminded her of who he was—over and over.

Yet he never gave up. He kept regressing to save me.

"I don't hate it."

Logan looked at me in surprise, then tilted his head—urging me to continue.

"Starting new with you—love, or... hmm."

I paused.

Getting to know each other, confirming feelings, falling in love.

Those were things I hadn't done with this life's Logan yet.

"Right—let's start over as strangers."

Let's learn about this new Logan.

Thinking that way, this time might feel a little more precious.

Logan was silent.

He just watched me with an unreadable expression.

No—to be precise, I couldn't tell what he was thinking at all.

He'd said he liked my face—but there was no guarantee he'd love me blindly like before.

Had his feelings changed this time?

Had I ever been this anxious about not knowing his heart?

This was also a new experience.

"Sure—I'm curious about you too."

Logan smirked.

A man lacking nothing—the sole heir of the Cheshwind family.

It felt like the old Logan had returned.

---

The immediate problem was that no one was running for the council.

After all that fighting, no one wanted to take responsibility.

It's strange that no one volunteered.

Something else must be going on.

I sat on a bench by the well in the square, watching people break down the wall to expand the village westward.

"Are you okay, ma'am?"

Luca came over and sat beside me. He'd been busy playing with the other kids lately.

"Yeah—I'm fine. Thanks for asking. How are you doing?"

Luca pouted.

"The other kids won't play with me."

"What? Why do you think?"

"They all think I'm your and the Duke's son."

Ah—his black hair and sharp looks at ten could easily cause that misunderstanding.

"Couldn't you clear it up for me, ma'am?"

"Hmm—if Logan and I explained, but people still misunderstood—what would you do?"

"I..."

He trailed off, clearly without an answer.

"Then how about becoming our real son?"

"I'm not that shameless, ma'am."

Funny how he drew the line there.

How could a ten-year-old answer like that?

"I believe kids should act like kids—run around and play."

Luca looked up at me.

"And if you don't want to be our son, you'll have to clear up the misunderstanding yourself. Otherwise, it'll just lead to more."

He looked down again.

"But I won't leave you alone—think about it: how would you like me to help?"

He brightened up. So cute.

I listened to his idea.

"There's someone among the Lowell survivors who used to tutor noble children."

"Really?"

"Yes—could you give the other kids a chance too? Like... a school."

The unexpected request surprised me—not because it was difficult, but because I hadn't expected such thinking from him.

"Ah—was that too forward? A commoner kid asking..."

"Luca—do you know the Royal Academy I attended selected students by ability, not status?"

"That sounds like an amazing school!"

"Yes—it was a time of rapid change. What you could do mattered more than birth. So don't feel inferior."

It was all in the past now—that era had ended.

But—

"Now more than ever, status means nothing, right?"

I patted his head.

"In a long-lasting disaster, smart survival skills are the greatest asset."

Luca's eyes sparkled.

"Survival skills don't care about status—this could be the fairest world for everyone."

He stared at me, speechless, eyes shining.

"So Luca, there's no reason you can't go to school—and no reason I can't start one."

"Th-Then...?"

"First, I'll find that tutor—we can discuss how to establish a school."

"Wow!"

Luca jumped up, raising his hands in excitement.

I smiled and patted his head.

Just then, Charlotte approached.

"Eve—Mrs. Lindsay requested a meeting. Will you see her?"

Mrs. Lindsay was a middle-aged woman trusted by the Lowell survivors—a former royal court lady-in-waiting.

I said goodbye to Luca and stood.

I had a feeling her request was connected to the council candidacy issue.

Mrs. Lindsay appeared to be in her late fifties—an elegant noblewoman with strong influence among the Lowell survivors.

One look at her explained why.

Back in Eve House, she was waiting at the kitchen table—the only place we had.

She rose as I entered, smoothed her skirt, clasped her hands neatly, and bowed. Her gaze never rose above my feet until she straightened.

"Thank you for making time despite your busy schedule, Duchess."

Her brief greeting carried the dignity of years of practice.

"It's our first formal introduction—thank you for coming, Mrs. Lindsay."

After accepting her greeting, I immediately corrected her title.

"I appreciate your courtesy—but 'Lady Cheshwind' will suffice."

Others calling me Duchess had a different weight than when she did—so I made a point of correcting her.

"I'll do that, ma'am."

We didn't jump to business.

Instead, we exchanged pleasantries—how she was settling in, if there were any difficulties with the winter.

I deliberately didn't ask why she'd requested the meeting, keeping the conversation mundane.

It had been a long time since I'd done this—not since before the ice age, before I was buried in debt.

Finally, after a long while, Mrs. Lindsay brought up the main topic with a satisfied expression.

"Oh—I heard you're forming a council."

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