The atmosphere within the Vanderbilt household crackled with a tense energy, a blend of anticipation and anxiety flooding every corner of the opulent estate. Today marked a momentous occasion—the birth of the first-born son to the Duke of Vanderbilt. Servants dashed about with a flurry of urgency, their voices rising and falling as they exchanged excited words, while family members congregated in hushed conversation. The heavy air was saturated with a palpable sense of joy and nervousness, as though the very walls themselves held their breath in eager expectation.

In the heart of the commotion, the room where the birth was taking place remained a sanctuary, guarded by the ever-vigilant head butlers, Zelinskye and François. These two men were not just caretakers of the household; they were notorious rivals, each secretly vying for the honor of serving as the personal butler to the future young master. Their long-standing competition lingered in the air, unspoken yet ever-present.

As the hours passed, a sudden hush fell over the bustling household, a brief suspension of time. Then, like a piercing note cutting through the quiet, the unmistakable wail of a newborn erupted from the inner chamber. At that moment, the Duke burst forth from the room, his face alight with elation as he exclaimed, “I have a son!” The announcement sent a shockwave through the butlers, freezing them in place for a heartbeat before permission was granted to enter.

Inside, the sight was nothing short of heartwarming. The tiny infant lay swaddled in soft linens, cries resonating with the vigor of new life. His delicate features scrunched up in response to the unfamiliar sounds surrounding him, an adorable reminder of the wonder of existence amidst the chaos.

“…What shall we do?” François murmured softly, uncertainty etched on his face. His inquiry was suddenly cut short as Zelinskye, eyes sparkling with the joy of the moment, gently scooped the crying baby into his arms. “Perhaps we should hold him,” he suggested, his voice tender.