Chapter 5: The Last Banquet

In the crowd, a pair of cold eyes flashed with a sly smile. Prince Leonard, the Eleventh Son. The game wasn’t over.

Newton and Andrew, riding together, talked about Niles. Their voices were low, thoughtful.

“Mr. President, Niles isn’t ordinary, but he’s just arrogant, not rebellious—yet. The future? That’s up to fate.” Newton’s tone was careful.

Andrew nodded. “You’re right. I haven’t been in office long, and I feel shaky. Sometimes I act rashly and give folks ammo to use against me. Like with Chief Justice Salinger—I regret it now.”

Newton nodded. He knew Andrew would never admit fault in public, but here, it meant something.

“Mr. President, I heard about Salinger. I hope you’ll think twice in the future. Public opinion can be a real beast.” Newton’s advice was gentle but firm.

Andrew nodded. Salinger had been half a student of Newton’s, once Deputy Secretary of State. Recently, Salinger set the state bar exam topic as 'Where the people stop'—meaning, 'where the people draw the line.' Some gossips said it meant 'Andrew loses his head,' so someone reported it. Andrew, already mad at Niles, fired Salinger out of superstition.

A few days after Newton’s return, Andrew’s third son, Henry, wrote: “Father, Secretary Newton has served two presidents and missed his eightieth birthday because he was in the west. I ask the government to hold a belated birthday banquet for him, as long as it’s not bigger than the Thousand Elders Banquet.” The letter was formal, but the affection was clear.

The Cabinet backed Henry’s proposal, and Andrew agreed. Newton had taught Henry, Charles, and John, so it made sense.

Andrew put Henry and the State Department in charge of Newton’s eightieth birthday. The White House buzzed with excitement.

Newton’s household was thrilled—except Newton, who frowned. He smelled trouble.

He hadn’t spent much time with Henry but saw through his character. He watched the preparations warily.

Sure enough, trouble surfaced. Invitations were debated, the guest list picked over late into the night.

First, the State Department wanted Orton, in charge of Montana and Idaho, to bring tribal chiefs to D.C. for Newton’s birthday. Orton had just started a tough "federalization" policy, and the chiefs were already on edge. Bringing them to Washington might make them feel isolated.

Second, Prince Leonard ordered several governors-for-life from beyond the Rockies to come for Newton’s birthday. These governors only respected might and looked down on scholars. Even as Duke Who Stabilizes the Nation, Newton’s title didn’t stack up to theirs. Bringing them in was bound to cause sparks. Tension hung in the air.

Newton heard about all this. He kept a poker face but guessed what was coming.

Sure enough, new rumors started swirling. Whispers grew louder, spreading from street corners to drawing rooms.

A children’s rhyme popped up: “When Newton meets Eight, Smith rules the world!” Innocent on the surface, but everyone knew it meant more.

People took it to mean Newton’s eightieth would herald the Smiths’ return.

The Smiths were the old Republic’s founding family, and with Newton’s eightieth birthday, the rhyme’s meaning was clear. Change was coming.

Newton sighed. He never thought, at his age, he’d face another showdown. History pressed down, but he stood tall.

“Carter… I might have to let you down. I should’ve treated your sons as my own, but now they’re holding a knife to my throat. For your United States, for the country’s safety, I have to let them down…” Newton looked up at the night sky, thinking of the old president who’d been his companion for decades. The stars seemed dimmer.

Andrew, meanwhile, got letters from all over. The pressure built with every word.

“When Newton meets Eight, Smith rules the world…” Andrew wasn’t Carter. In his youth, he’d been obsessed with transcendentalism and spiritualism, and now, staring at the reports, he started to waver. Doubt crept in, the walls closing in.

Prince Leonard and his team made their final moves. The endgame was in sight.

“Tell the governors out West to be ready for a military protest. For the Union’s sake, we can’t let Newton and Niles, those outsiders, hold power!” The order went out. No turning back.

“Also, give the Montana and Idaho chiefs more gold and gifts—have them bite down on Newton.” Bribes flowed, alliances shifted.

“And Director Long is the key—make sure there’s no mistake with him…” The plan was airtight—or so they thought.

…

Watching Prince Leonard’s careful moves, the Ninth and Tenth Sons grinned, thinking victory was already theirs.

Day by day, time ticked on. Finally, Newton’s eightieth birthday banquet arrived. The White House sparkled under the spring sun, the air charged with expectation.

Andrew threw the party, second in ceremony only to the president’s own. The halls rang with music and laughter, but tension simmered just beneath.

A National Academy official stepped forward, voice steady but eyes darting.

“Mr. President, rumors are everywhere—'When Newton meets Eight, Smith rules the world.' It means Newton’s eightieth birthday is the day the Smiths return. To calm things down, I urge you to cancel the banquet and strip Newton of all titles!” The room went still.

Andrew’s face darkened. He’d called the banquet, and now they wanted him to cancel it and strip Newton’s honors. The attack was personal.

Another official stood: “Last month, the Secretary of State was fired over the 'Where the people stop' topic. Don’t turn a blind eye now.” The challenge was clear.

More officials piled on. Andrew realized things were more tangled than he thought. He glanced at Prince Leonard, who sat with eyes half-closed, looking bored. The game was afoot.

Andrew looked at Newton, who sat calm and unreadable, as if none of this mattered.

Then, a hereditary governor stood up and shouted, “Mr. President, Newton dares to hold his birthday in the White House? That insults the government! I brought two thousand troops—let’s see who dares make trouble!”

Another governor, James, joined in: “You appointed Niles and drained the treasury, but still no victory! Niles delayed for months, but Newton found the rebels in a snap. Is there something between them? Making him Grand General chills the hearts of loyalists!”

Andrew listened in silence, fists clenched. Timothy Zhang, off to the side, trembled with anger. The room was a powder keg.

Montana and Idaho chiefs shouted, “We follow the government because of the late president, not these weak old men! Mr. President, raising them up—how can we trust you? And that rhyme, it’s everywhere. What do you say?”

Most Cabinet members saw the truth. On the surface, the attack was on Newton, but really, it was aimed at Andrew. The realization chilled them.

Andrew gritted his teeth. “What do you want? Say it!”

He stared at Prince Leonard. The room held its breath.

Prince Leonard stood. “Mr. President, today I want to say a few words.” His voice was calm, his eyes sharp.

Andrew knew the Eighth Son had been planning this. There was no stopping him now.

“Go ahead, Eighth Son. Speak.”

Prince Leonard bowed and walked to the center of the hall. All eyes were on him.

“Everyone, I want to offer the president some harsh but loyal advice!” His words rang out.

“Since taking office, in just a year, you’ve changed the old president’s systems, pushed new policies like public surcharges—that’s a slap at your father’s legacy!

Giving Newton the title of Duke Who Stabilizes the Nation breaks the Founders’ rules—that’s disloyal!

Niles emptied the treasury, states suffer, refugees starve, but instead of helping, you throw a lavish birthday for Newton—that’s heartless!

You fired loyal officials over rumors—that’s unjust!”

…

Andrew snapped. The Eighth Son was calling him unfilial, disloyal, unkind, and unrighteous—forcing his hand. The room buzzed, everyone waiting.

Thirteenth Son coughed, pointing at the Eighth Son, unable to speak. The tension was thick.

“Where’s Director Long? I… I order you to bring two hundred Secret Service agents…” Andrew’s voice cracked under the strain.

Director Long stepped forward, knelt, and said, “Mr. President just said to let Prince Leonard speak. I think Prince Leonard is right. I don’t know why you want troops. The governors and chiefs have a point—I agree!”

Director Long’s betrayal stunned everyone. The balance of power shifted instantly.

Andrew was furious. He pointed at Long, “You… you… you…” but was too angry to finish.

At that moment, Newton, sitting beside the president, slowly stood. The nation’s eyes turned to him, waiting for the next move from America’s greatest mind.

He drew a breath, and the room held it with him.