Home/The Ice Age Came? And I Just Got Married?!/ch 92

Chapter 92.

"Yes—the village is growing, and Logan and I can't handle everything alone."

"A wise decision."

She nodded slightly.

"I heard you opened candidacy."

"I did—but no one volunteered."

"Understandable."

Her answer came without hesitation.

"People fear responsibility more than authority. Most of this village are commoners—they're not used to stepping forward."

Mrs. Lindsay spoke politely but firmly.

"So you shouldn't accept volunteers."

"Do you have a different approach in mind, Mrs. Lindsay?"

"You must assign authority directly—appoint people to positions."

Her gaze grew calm.

"And you should have a butler and a lady-in-waiting."

"...A lady-in-waiting?"

"Yes."

She continued as if it were only natural.

"You need someone to manage your schedule, receive guests, and maintain order in the household. That will establish the dignity of the ducal family."

I fell silent, arms crossed.

Mrs. Lindsay wasn't wrong—that was standard practice in royal and noble circles.

But this wasn't the royal court, nor was it a ducal estate.

Mrs. Lindsay watched me for a moment, then gave a gentle smile.

"I greatly respect you, ma'am."

It didn't feel empty or flattering—it was genuine.

"You saved us, and you've taken us in."

Her voice was measured and clear, carrying a peculiar weight.

"So I decided to dedicate myself to the House of Cheshwind."

That was why her words resonated—perhaps the new residents felt the same.

She truly seemed to want the Cheshwind name to stand firm above Acorn Village.

I won't correct her. That's her pride—her way of life.

If I dismissed her advice, she'd feel her entire existence was being denied.

I didn't want that.

I wanted her on my side.

She'd make an excellent council chair.

So I had to persuade her—without damaging her pride.

"I'll take your advice to heart and consider it—we can discuss it further later."

Mrs. Lindsay bowed, visibly moved by the acceptance. Her eyes seemed slightly reddened.

Only then did I notice her hands were trembling—she'd been nervous the entire time, hidden behind her composure.

After the impressive meeting with Mrs. Lindsay, I saw her out—and when I returned, a man was sitting on the sofa.

"Huh—Logan? Since when were you here?"

He looked up from his book.

"I've been here since around noon."

"...All this time?"

"All this time."

"You heard everything?"

Logan nodded instead of answering. I felt a bit embarrassed.

But thinking again, this was good. He was the real Duke—I only carried the title.

"What do you think?"

"..."

"How should we persuade Mrs. Lindsay? She'd be perfect as council chair."

Logan closed his book.

"I don't think you need to persuade her."

"Why?"

"She already respects you—you saved her life. She wants to impress you, so she gave advice that doesn't quite fit."

That was true—which made it harder.

"When her voice carried stubbornness, it's usually hard to bend. People don't easily admit they're wrong—especially when they believe they're upholding what's 'right.'"

Hearing him, I thought it over.

"People live by conviction—especially the way they've built their lives with pride."

Logan smirked and nodded in agreement.

"A lifetime of pride can't be broken by logic alone."

"Right—so I won't deny Mrs. Lindsay's pride."

I said firmly.

"Instead, I'll channel it for the village's benefit."

I noticed Logan watching me.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

He just shrugged.

"I don't remember—but I think I understand why the old me liked you."

"Why?"

"That would spoil the fun if I answered."

"But I don't want fun."

Logan laughed—why? I was serious.

"Still no progress with the memories?"

He shook his head.

"Same as before."

Hmm—I'd thought of getting to know him anew, but I didn't even know what "starting fresh" meant. I'd never dated before.

I should have read some romance novels.

Logan moved to the seat beside me—and gestured for me to sit.

"Sit."

My gaze drifted to the empty space beside him.

It was close—unnecessarily so.

I hesitated, then quietly sat next to him.

Not quite touching, but definitely close.

Was I the only one conscious of it? Logan looked out the window calmly, then turned to me.

"Now let's talk."

"Wh-What?"

The sudden seriousness made me straighten up.

Had his memory returned? Or was it something important...

"I'm not interested in managing Acorn Village—it's not the Cheshwind estate."

Ah—that's what it was. I felt deflated.

Logan leaned one arm on the back of the sofa and continued flatly.

"But since we're married..."

He trailed off, as if resigned, and tilted his head.

"I'll follow wherever the lady leads."

"Huh?"

"I'm saying I'll help."

"Earlier you called it a delusion."

"There are too many witnesses in this village—what choice do I have?"

True—with so many witnesses, denying it would be stubborn.

"How will you help?"

"A census, first."

Ah.

Another direction I hadn't considered—why hadn't I thought of that?

"Name, age, origin, skills, health—we need to know who lives here."

He spoke as if it were obvious.

"A lord can't govern an estate without knowing who lives on it."

It sank in—he'd been raised to inherit a duchy and had received that education.

"Then a school."

"A school?"

"Don't just send the kids—if adults want to learn, let them come too. So skills and knowledge can be shared."

"...That's a good idea. It would make the school for the whole estate, not just children."

Logan glanced at me.

I shrugged and added,

"In the end, it's people who build a domain."

"Good—no need to explain."

Logan seemed pleased.

"You really think like me—I reach a conclusion, and you arrive at the same moment."

"I suppose..."

I paused.

I'd worked tirelessly to beat Logan—and as a result, I'd become like him.

How ironic—competing with a rival made me resemble him.

"That must be why the old me recognized you."

Logan continued with interest.

"Given the same problem, you always give the same answer."

I smiled faintly.

"Like I said—it's okay if you don't remember. We'll just find the same answers again."

A brief silence. Logan's expression grew thoughtful.

What he was thinking no longer seemed important—like he said, we'd reach the same conclusion anyway.

"I'm back!"

Luca burst in after playing outside all day.

Seeing Logan and me together, he looked surprised.

"Your Grace—did your memory return?"

I shook my head.

Luca looked disappointed and started toward his room.

"Hey."

Logan called out—and Luca stopped.

He turned, puzzled. Logan studied him.

"Is this kid really not ours—black hair and all?"

"Does hair color alone make him your son?"

He doesn't even look like you.

Of course, Luca was a handsome seedling with a promising future—but he definitely didn't resemble Logan.

Luca narrowed his eyes at Logan.

"What—why are you staring like that?"

Then he strode over and planted himself in front of me.

"Are you bothering our Eve again?"

He usually called me "ma'am-lady," but sometimes used the more familiar-sounding honorific "Eve"—mostly in front of Logan.

Naturally, Logan gave him a "really?" look.

A strange tension sparked between them.

Why is he picking a fight with a ten-year-old?

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