Judging by the former president's robust energy, he looked nothing like the media's portrayal of someone heading to Arkham Asylum for treatment.
Thea felt extremely awkward exchanging pleasantries with this "old acquaintance." Only after the man finally let her go did he move to stand beside Moira.
"Moira Queen, do you accept the office of President of the United States?" Once everything was in place, the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court asked in a resonant voice.
Moira placed her hand on the Bible before her. Having been enhanced twice by her daughter, her voice rang clear and strong, not at all like that of a middle-aged woman. "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States."
After the routine procedure, enthusiastic applause filled the venue. Thea happily clapped along a couple of times.
Next came the ceremonial escort of the former president's departure, followed by the new president's first policy address. It was all formulaic, the same old rhetoric. During the campaign period, Moira had already repeated these talking points hundreds of times, but she still had to go through the motions.
Once again, she pulled out the usual promises about eliminating poverty, protecting women's and children's rights, increasing employment, and vigorously developing the economy.
The assembled elites in the audience had to pretend they were hearing it for the first time, each putting on deeply moved expressions and responding with enthusiastic applause.
The Vice President had already been sworn in before the President. He was another old acquaintance of Thea's—former Secretary of Defense General Swanwick. This general had now officially retired from military service to enter politics, serving as Moira's running mate.
After much internal maneuvering, the position of Secretary of Defense went to General Lane, Clark's future father-in-law. He just needed to wait for Moira to take office before going through the nomination process.
Political analysts unanimously agreed that the combination of a president with massive corporate backing and a vice president with deep military connections would be more effective and inclusive than the previous administration.
After the policy address came the inaugural luncheon. Many guests had been standing in the sun for most of the day, and several of the elderly ones were nearly exhausted. This was a perfect opportunity to rest and grab a bite. More importantly, it was a chance for mutual greetings. The men had it relatively easy, but many female guests wore such tight outfits that they could barely sit down, let alone eat. That was just ridiculous.
Thea didn't mind either way. She could devour an entire dragon right now without her flat stomach showing any sign of it. Still, she couldn't abandon her poise—wolfing down a chicken leg would be inappropriate. She had to maintain a ladylike demeanor and wait alongside Oliver.
The banquet proceeded quickly. Formalism was inescapable everywhere, and this was no exception.
The luncheon ended right on schedule. A crowd of people filed out in an orderly fashion. According to protocol, next came the inaugural parade—the motorcade would circle Pennsylvania Avenue before the president took her place on the White House viewing platform to watch a procession of military honor guards, civilian groups, and various floats.
After all the commotion, there would be one final inaugural ball, and then the event would finally conclude.
"Ugh! I'm exhausted!" Thea felt this day had been more tiring than fighting the Firstborn. Completely worn out, she threw herself onto the large bed in the White House. For the next eight years, barring any surprises, she would have her own bedroom here. That was the only reward for several months of effort.
She was so exhausted, and Oliver and Moira weren't faring much better. The whole family retired early.
Early the next morning, Thea was awakened by noisy sounds. Just as she was about to hurl chain lightning to eliminate the annoyance, she finally remembered she was in the White House. Sheepishly, she withdrew her magic, observed who was outside, changed into casual clothes, and walked out leisurely.
The White House breakfast was simple. A staff member brought her a small plate with a few slices of bread, some scattered pieces of bacon, a palm-sized pancake, and a glass of milk.
That was the entire breakfast. Thea didn't really need to eat anymore, but she found it amusing. Those people who constantly protested about the White House's extravagant lifestyle should really come take a look. This breakfast cost at most ten dollars. At this rate, how much could eight years of eating possibly cost?
After finishing quickly, the new president had to hold a routine press conference on her first day in office. Thea got herself ready as fast as possible and stood on the White House lawn, eyes half-closed as she listened to reporters ask various absurd questions.
She'd originally thought this had nothing to do with her and was spacing out, thinking about the Dead King, when a reporter suddenly mentioned her name. She quickly pulled her attention back to reality.
"Dr. Queen, how comfortable is it living in the White House?" Right, anyone with a doctorate had to be addressed as "Doctor" in public settings. Thea had always been proud of her persistence back then. Otherwise, being called "Miss Queen" would sound so lame and inferior.
Looking back eight generations in the Queen family, she was the only one with a doctorate. The reporter's question was obviously directed at her.
Thea certainly wouldn't say this was the smallest place she'd ever lived. The White House was 73,000 square meters—not exactly small—but compared to the properties under her name, it was just so-so. She shamelessly launched into praise about America's democratic system, expressing her admiration and excitement for the White House.
"Will you be building a swimming pool at the White House?"
Thea looked at the reporter mildly. What kind of ridiculous question was that? She mentally considered whether she should have Poison Ivy grab this guy for fertilizer.
"No..."
"Should superheroes be required to publicly reveal their identities and register with the government?"
Huh? Thea couldn't help but look over sharply. Did you just cross over from the Marvel universe? A Superhero Registration Act? This was troublemaking.
She couldn't brush this question off.
"I can tell you clearly—no!"
"Why not? The public has a right to know." The reporter pressed aggressively.
Thea's gaze swept across the venue. Oliver stood beside her. Diana and Bruce Wayne were present as distinguished guests observing today's events. Superman had donned his Clark Kent disguise and mixed in with the press corps. The Martian Manhunter stood diagonally behind her as security personnel.
Thea frowned slightly and organized her thoughts. "Absurd! Superheroes don't take a single cent from the government. They risk their own lives to help others. If their identities are revealed and bad guys retaliate against them, what then? If their families die because of this, whose responsibility is that?"
"The public's right to know? Since when does the public have the right to control others' lives and deaths? Is that granted by the Constitution or by God?" Three consecutive questions from Thea, delivered in a calm voice but with a chilling tone.
The reporter paused, not expecting Thea's words to be so sharp. However, he'd come prepared and immediately changed angles. "Perhaps the public doesn't have that right, but the government should."
Thea's smile was clearly fake, and her words even more so. "Government personnel are also composed of ordinary citizens. These high-ranking government officials are actually just ordinary people serving the country and society. After eight years, they'll return to ordinary life. Your premise is fundamentally flawed."