Chapter 106: Testing
At the same time, in the White House, the banquet hall had already begun to fill with sound and light.
As the evening sun sank beyond the windows, the invited orchestra curiously sized up the famous white mansion while carrying their instruments inside. After one final inspection of every violin string and brass valve, a security guard in a black tuxedo, his muscles so thick they seemed ready to split the seams, gave them a curt gesture to proceed.
The musicians quickly took their places on the raised platform at the end of the hall.
Below them, the buffet spread was lavish enough to make anyone's mouth water.
There was freshly roasted lamb, its juices glistening beneath the carving knife, delicate French pastries arranged in precise rows, sizzling Mexican dishes still steaming on silver platters, and caviar and pre shelled crab meat set out so casually they had become little more than elegant garnish. Fruits from every season and every coast added color to the table, as though the White House itself were encouraging every guest to indulge.
But a state banquet was rarely about eating.
The socialites from every state floated through the hall in off shoulder gowns, each one more dazzling than the last. To preserve slender waists and flawless silhouettes, champagne had become their true dinner. The gentlemen were much the same. For all the abundance laid before them, the gourmet dishes were decoration, and the pale gold wine in their glasses was the only thing they truly consumed.
There was, however, one exception.
Jörg, who had politely declined visits from two governors on the grounds of time, then ridden through the night by car with barely anything in his stomach, stood beside the buffet and picked up a sandwich layered with crab meat and caviar.
He took one bite.
It was so salty that even his expression twitched.
He immediately washed it down with champagne, then calmly ignored the openly flirtatious glances being cast his way by several well dressed ladies nearby.
When he lifted his eyes, he saw Lia in the distance.
Dressed in a black evening gown, she was already chatting with a cluster of politicians as if she had been born for this exact sort of occasion. She accepted two business cards with a graceful smile, every gesture refined, every movement naturally elegant. The education of an aristocratic household had been carved into her bones. Whether it was diplomacy, posture, or social instinct, there was not the slightest flaw to be found.
Just as Jörg was watching her, a soft crackle from the microphone pulled the hall's attention toward the stage.
President Coolidge stood at the podium, one hand holding the microphone, and began in a measured tone.
"I am delighted by your presence this evening. To be frank, this is the first truly proper dinner I have hosted since taking office. What pleases me even more is that Mr. Jörg von Roman, who has traveled all the way from Germany, is here with us tonight."
A ripple passed through the crowd.
"I believe all of you are familiar with Dawes stock, and there is no doubt that Mr. von Roman is one of the men most deserving of credit for its success. And now, he is about to bring us even more good news."
At that, Coolidge paused on purpose, then smiled faintly.
"My apologies. My apologies. I nearly forgot. Tonight is not for politics, nor for work. Tonight is for music and wine. I hope you all enjoy yourselves."
He lowered the microphone, and a moment later, the first notes of Rhapsody in Blue rose into the air, carried by a solo piano and a jazz ensemble.
The music softened the hall at once.
Coolidge picked up a glass of champagne, then made his way directly toward Jörg. Without hesitation, he placed a hand on his shoulder as though they were old acquaintances and said in a low voice, "Jörg, come with me. There's someone I'd like you to meet."
Without waiting for an answer, he guided him toward a quieter corner of the hall.
There, Krag sat alone.
He looked like an unwelcome stone at the edge of the celebration, drinking in silence while his gaze rested on Jörg's face. Compared to the immaculate suits surrounding him, Krag's clothing was plainly inferior. The cuffs had been ironed so many times that the fabric had begun to fade, and the suit itself had clearly been tailored for the stronger, straighter body of years past. On the older man's slightly stooped frame, it hung awkwardly.
In such surroundings, he looked almost deliberately out of place.
"This is Commander Krag," Coolidge said. "Krag, this is Jörg. I think you may find his views on shipbuilding worth hearing."
The President had brought the two together because he still hoped, however faintly, to force a path toward compromise. He had already seen how sharp Jörg's tongue could be. If anyone could pry apart this old naval stubbornness, perhaps it would be him.
After all, dismissing a serving naval commander for the sake of a foreign guest was not a price even a president wanted to pay.
Krag barely looked up before speaking, his voice low and thick with drink.
"I hear you're also Germany's Deputy Commander in Chief. If so, I'd say Germany is collapsing faster than I thought."
His words were crude, and his expression made no attempt to hide his contempt.
This was Krag's nature. On matters he considered trivial, he could be restrained. On matters he considered fundamental, he was nothing of the sort, especially not when facing the very man who had helped push forward the bill he despised.
Jörg had no intention of indulging him.
"Perhaps, Commander," he said evenly. "I have never thought myself especially suited to the office I hold. But tell me, do you believe yourself worthy of yours?"
Krag frowned, not yet sensing the trap.
"Of course I..."
Jörg cut straight across him.
"Of course you what? Of course you are worthy?"
He took a half step forward, his tone suddenly turning cold enough to cut.
"I do not believe a commander who attends a state banquet in a worn out suit, publicly insults a foreign guest, ignores every requirement of the occasion, and cannot even control his own temper is worthy of any high office."
"In my eyes, that is not bluntness. It is incompetence."
He held Krag's gaze and continued, each word more precise than the last.
"Because what such a man diminishes is not merely himself. He diminishes the dignity of the nation he represents."
"If a commander under me in Germany behaved like this piece of filth, then even if he had captured the French president with his own hands, I would still have him thrown into the sea to feed the fish."
The mockery, open and merciless, flushed Krag's face red.
For a brief instant, the old officer's anger surged under the alcohol. But then he seemed to remember something. The fury in his eyes dimmed, and in its place came something much quieter.
Something calculating.
When he spoke again, his tone had unexpectedly softened.
"I apologize, Jörg. I've had too much to drink."
Then, as if the earlier exchange had never happened, he casually changed the subject.
"When I drove here earlier, I happened to catch sight of your car. An Imperial Eagle, wasn't it?"
The abrupt turn was so unnatural that even Coolidge relaxed a little, believing the worst of the clash had passed.
Jörg, however, was more surprised by the shift than relieved by it.
"Yes," he said after a beat. "It was."
Krag nodded as though they were merely discussing the weather.
"I've always had some interest in motorcars."
Then he added, as if by passing whim, "You're staying at the reception hotel on Third Avenue, yes?"
"I owe you an apology for tonight," he went on. "I'll come tomorrow and make it properly. Then perhaps we can speak at length about shipbuilding."
He set his glass down and turned to Coolidge.
"Mr. President, I fear I've had too much to drink. If it is acceptable, I would like to leave early. If I remain, I may say something else... regrettable."
Coolidge had not entirely missed the oddness of the change, but seeing Krag at least feign a willingness to talk, he chose not to press.
"Very well," he said. "Go and get some rest, Commander. But after your conversation tomorrow, I hope your views will improve. You would do well to set aside old ideas and see that this is a matter of mutual benefit."
Krag gave a stiff nod, then turned and left the banquet hall without another word.
Jörg watched his departing back for a moment, the champagne glass cool in his hand, while the music continued to flow beneath the glittering lights.
.....
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