Il Gandor Principe [The Gandor Prince]

May 30th, 1934

Six o' clock A.M. in New York City, and everything was mostly still. The sun had just begun to peek out over the horizon, casting a gentle yellow glow over the city. The scent of rain hung heavy in the air, as a huge thunderstorm had just passed not an hour ago. A stray cat scrounged around in an alleyway, pawing through the garbage it had just knocked on the ground from a trashcan that had been put out without a lid. It was frightened away, however, when a red blur of a man ran past it towards an apartment at the end of the alleyway.

"Key, key, key, where does Firo keep the stupid—ah, there it is," the man muttered to himself as he lifted up the doormat, taking the spare key out from under it and using it to unlock the door. Once it was unlocked, the intruder invited himself into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. Running into a room in the hallway, he jumped on the bed where two sleeping figures laid, exclaiming loudly, "Wake up, wake up! The Prince is here!"

"Claire!" One of the previously sleeping figures hissed, sitting up in bed and turning on the lamp as he looked at the red-haired Claire Stanfield through narrowed eyes. From beside him, his messy red-haired female partner sat up as well, yawning and stretching as she rubbed at her eyes. "We didn't order a wake-up call! Wha's this about a Prince?"

"Oh, c'mon Firo, you're not that stupid, are you?" Claire laughed, jumping off of the bed and sitting on the bedside table, legs neatly crossed in front of him. The brown-haired boy Firo Prochainezo glared at him again. "The Prince! The Gandor Prince!"

"Oh!" Firo exclaimed when the realization finally hit him. A wide grin spread across his face as he looked over at the woman beside him. "Didja hear that, Ennis? The baby's here!"

"Mhm," she yawned, rubbing wearily at her eyes before flopping back down onto her soft pillow. "Mm...that's good..."

"He's gonna want ya' to be there," Claire told Firo matter-of-factly, jumping off of the bedside table and strolling over to the bedroom door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got more people to tell. Tell 'im I said "You're welcome"!" And then the man was gone as quickly as he'd come, leaving Firo to tuck in the sleeping Ennis and find suitable clothes to wear to his friend's house.

Around that same time, a rough-looking man with a cigar clasped tightly between his teeth walked briskly down Millionaire Row, pausing in front of a very nice looking penthouse. Even from where he stood outside, he could see that there was much commotion going on inside, and his usually stoic face curved upwards into a smile. Taking out his cigar and blowing out a cloud of smoke, he carefully put it out, flicking it into the trashcan by the road. This was no place to have a lit cigar.

Walking into the house, the man first noticed a huge gathering of people at the base of the stairs, peering up them excitedly. With much gusto, a couple dressed in nightgowns bounded over to him, each one taking one of his hands in theirs.

"Oh, Kieth, you're just in time!"

"Just in time!"

"Luck's been asking around for you!"

"Yeah, he even sent Claire out to tell everyone and try to find you!"

"Isaac, Miria, please, back off and let the man have some space," a tall, spectacled man chuckled softly as he made his way over to them. The couple, Isaac Dian and Miria Harvent, did as he said and let go of the man Keith Gandor's hands, moving to the side as the tall man walked up to him. Keith looked up at him, a warm smile on his face for the first time in a long time. "Keith. I take it you're here to see them?" The man, Maiza Avaro, had been involved in the delivery of the first Gandor Prince, and the eldest Gandor nodded. It was only customary that he would be the first, after Maiza and the parents, to see his new nephew. "Well, go on up. They're waiting for you."

He didn't have to be told twice. Carefully, he ascended the stairs, his footsteps light as he reached the top. It didn't take long for the faint sound of a baby's cry to reach his ears, and Keith perked up, alert as a watchdog. Making his way down the hall, he reached a room at the end of the hallway with the door cracked slightly. Gently pushing it open, Keith peered inside, smiling again as he saw his youngest brother, Luck Gandor, and his partner, Dallas Genoard standing over a cradle, looking down inside with nothing but love and awe. Dallas, being the baby's mother, gently hushed the newborn's loud cries, picking up the blanket-clad newborn and holding him carefully in his arms. Now noticing Keith, Luck's eyes lit up, and he smiled wide.

"Keith," he greeted, and his brother stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. The two of them looked absolutely exhausted, no doubt from the hectic birth of the little Prince that Dallas held in his arms. From where he was standing, Keith couldn't quite get a good look, so he stepped forward as Dallas shifted the baby in his arms so that his uncle could see him.

He was a beautiful little baby, that was for sure, and his whimpers finally quieted as Keith peered down at him. He had dark, reddish-brown hair like his mother's, but his eyes were still shut tight. Chances were, though, that they'd be the stunning gold color of the Gandor family. Reaching down, Keith gave his nephew's cheek a gentle scrub with his thumb, watching as he yawned and cuddled into his mother's chest. Both Luck and Dallas gave soft chuckles as Luck pressed his forehead against his fiance's, looking back at Keith as he quietly asked one question;

"What's his name?"

Dallas nudged Luck, a signal for him to tell him, and Luck grinned. "Scout. Scout Luck Genoard-Gandor."

Keith nodded slowly, his show of approval as he stood silently, watching as the parents cooed over their newborn.

The Gandor's Prince had finally arrived.