Georgiana's ears were smoking.
Napoleoni, however, found it terribly amusing and kept staring at her, laughing.
She grabbed a book from the desk and threw it at his face, wanting to wipe that smile off it.
"Why did you hit me?" he asked knowingly, holding the book she had thrown at him.
"This isn't funny!" she said sternly. "If Matilda hadn't come in, I might have had to soak in that bathtub all night."
"Why didn't you use magic?"
"Is that all you have to say?" she said incredulously. "There was a man..."
"A male ghost," he corrected, then burst out laughing. "I never knew ghost stories could be so entertaining."
She could not be bothered to continue talking to him. She gathered up the books on the desk, intending to look for information elsewhere and see what sort of "gift" might send Carloman back to his grave in Italy.
Yet he followed after her, apparently still wanting to watch her smoking ears. So she set down the books and covered her ears with both hands.
"Why are you covering them?" He tried to pull her hands away.
She kicked him.
"It's all your fault!"
"How is it my fault?"
"If you hadn't been thinking about that question, Carloman would never have come." Georgiana stared into his blue eyes. "Were you thinking of naming Joseph or Hortense's son as your heir?"
The smile vanished from his face, but he forcefully pulled her hands down.
"How did you do that?" he asked, as though he still suspected Georgiana of tampering with something and performing a "magic trick" for him.
"It's a side effect of the potion," she repeated impatiently. "What about my question?"
"Is he here now?" Napoleoni asked.
"Yes." Georgiana pointed upstairs. "He lives in the stone oak on the