As Lia helped Pomona make the bed, Napoleon's French valet, Constant, carried his camp bed into the bedroom.
He placed it beside the enormous Baroque-style bed. Perhaps the townspeople who had stormed Saint Luke's had not taken it only because it was too large. Thinking of the lavish lives of Louis XIV and Louis XV, several people might once have lain on that bed at the same time.
By comparison, Napoleon's camp bed was tiny. Lia glanced at Miss "Georgiana" without saying a word. "Georgiana" had only one maid—her. If any news leaked out, it would definitely have come from her.
Pomona was very pleased with Napoleon's arrangement. She did not even mind sleeping on the camp bed herself and giving the large bed to the First Consul of France.
During the Triwizard Tournament, Pomona had thought the Beauxbatons girls seemed rather haughty. Only now did she realize that French women were all spoiled by men.
"Did the First Consul sleep in this when he was campaigning?" Pomona asked Constant.
"Yes, Miss Georgiana," Constant immediately replied. "Master always brings it with him. He says that if changing beds makes him uncomfortable, he can sleep in the camp bed."
"Can you manage all the work by yourself?"
"The former court steward is still alive, and I'm learning from him," Constant said. "The First Lady has to learn court etiquette every day. Aside from that, things are much the same as before."
From learning to dance to learning etiquette?
Pomona raised a brow but offered no comment.
The camp bed was easy to set up and make. Constant soon finished it. Looking at the thin blanket, Pomona inexplicably thought of Russia's heavy snow. Could such a blanket withstand Siberia's bitter cold?
Those were matters Josephine should have considered. But perhaps she would