After the opening ceremony, Bambi and Barron left the arena and found the rest of their entourage chatting excitedly about the event just outside the entrance. Faline was the first to congratulate Bambi on a job well done. She darted right up to Bambi and threw her arms around his neck.
"That was so exciting!" she exclaimed.
"Great job, buddy," Theodore said, patting Bambi on the back. "Way to be yourself out there."
"Thanks a lot," Bambi said proudly.
"Too bad Finn was the crowd pleaser," said Florean glumly.
"Eh," Bambi said dismissively. "As long as I get to look like myself and not some hoity-toity blue blood, I don't care what they think. I mean, I almost looked like myself," he added, reaching for the ribbon in his hair that they stylist had wrestled him into.
"Aw, but I like it," Faline said suddenly, batting her eyelashes the way she always did when flirting with Bambi. "You should wear it like that more often. At least for special occasions."
Bambi tried not to blush and privately considered taking her advice.
"Yes, yes. Well done, lad," said Oswald, sincerely but hastily. "It's all very exciting. But we must be getting back to the castle. We've got to be sure you're ready for tomorrow's event."
"What's that?" Bambi asked.
"The intelligence portion," said Oswald fondly.
They returned back to the castle for lunch (at which Prince Finn was given rather contemptuous looks from the other princes) and then everyone returned to their rooms to prepare for the following day. As soon as Bambi was inside, he found himself being bombarded by a large pile of books and a long explanation of what the following day's event would consist of.
"You'll all be asked a series of trivia questions on a variety of subjects and the first to answer a certain number correctly wins," explained Oswald.
"You mean like a written exam?" Bambi asked, thinking how dull it would be for the audience to have to watch five princes sitting at desks and writing in absolute silence for several minutes.
As though he had read his mind, Oswald answered, "Not necessarily. You'll be answering each question verbally."
"As in... shout out the answers?" Bambi asked. "Loud enough for everyone to hear me?"
He thought of the vastness of the arena and the number of seats that would be packed with spectators. How was he, or really anyone, expected to shout loudly enough for all of them to hear him? Especially without shouting himself hoarse? Puberty had already changed his voice about two years previously, but not enough for him to be heard from a great distance.
"I don't think even my voice could fill that arena," said Daisy, looking slightly nervous.
Barron chuckled. "No need to worry. There won't be any shouting. Prince Gerard has already seen to that," he said, somewhat distastefully.
"What do you mean?" Bambi asked.
"Gerard comes from a long line of inventors and innovators, as I'm sure you've noticed," said Barron.
Bambi thought of the lanky, articulate, well-read prince and nodded.
"Well he and his father have spent the past several months inventing a contraption that will multiply a speaker's voice tenfold, for exactly this occasion," Barron explained.
Bambi read late into the night, wondering what the next day's event - the first real event of the Challenge - would be like for him. Not for the first time, he thought about what he was up against. From the sound of it, Prince Gerard was a genius. Bambi had of course known this from the moment he'd met Gerard, but his nerves had increased upon hearing Barron's explanation of how he had helped to design and create the tools that the contenders would be using to be heard from every corner of the arena.
Morning came too soon for Bambi's liking. After a sumptuous breakfast that Bambi did not enjoy, everyone was escorted to the arena for the day's event. Once inside, Bambi and the other princes were called forward by the smartly dressed man who had introduced them to the crowd he previous day. Bambi gave his father and friends a brief smile and they left to join the rest of the crowd.
Bambi and the other princes gathered together in a small circle to receive instructions from the smartly dressed man, who briefly introduced himself as Randolph, Prince Mason's tutor and King Magnus' advisor - in other words, their "Oswald".
"As you all doubtless know," Randolph said briskly, "today you will be tested based on your intelligence."
He then indicated a neat arrangement of strange looking objects set off to his right. Bambi took one look at them and instantly named them "cones" because of their shape. They were fairly long, about three feet in length, and each had one small hole on one end and a distinctly larger hole on the other end. They also seemed to be completely hollow.
Randolph picked one up and explained, "You each will be given one of these. You will all be asked a series of questions. If you believe you know the answer, you will raise your hand, wait to be called by name, and present your answer. And to ensure that you will be heard throughout the arena, you will speak clearly into the smaller hole of these devices. Your voice will then be amplified and come out through the larger hole at a greater volume."
Bambi and a few of the other princes stared.
"Yes. Ingenious, isn't it?" Randolph asked brightly. "These brilliant devices are the creation of none other than Prince Gerard here," he added, gesturing towards Gerard who looked proud and pompous.
An all too familiar knot began to reform in Bambi's stomach. But he didn't have time to dwell on it for, at that moment, Randolph held the strange voice amplifier contraption out to him and said, "One for you, Prince Bambi."
"Uh... right. Thanks," Bambi said, grinning and taking it.
He was pleased to see that the other princes, with the obvious exception of Gerard, stared at the unfamiliar objects looking as puzzled and dumbstruck as he felt. Mason actually looked more so, holding the device up to his eye and looking through the small hole as though it were a telescope.
Randolph cast an annoyed look at Mason, looking as though he had done so hundreds of times, and then continued to explain. "First to answer twenty-five questions correctly wins the event. Now if there are no questions, you may take your places," he finished, pointing to the temporary stage in the center of the arena.
As the princes took their places, Randolph walked a few paces ahead of them and raised both his hands to silence the crowd. A few seconds passed then one could hear a pin drop.
Now feeling almost every eye in the arena on him, Bambi pretended to listen as Randolph greeted the audience, briefly introduced the contenders, and covered the rules of the day's event. All too soon, the event officially commenced and the first question was asked.
"King Abel of Magnolia earned the alias Abel the Abnormal because of his unusual obsession with what animal?" Randolph asked.
Bambi tried to remember. He knew this! How could he not? It was a question pertaining to his kingdom. And yet... feeling all those eyes looking expectantly at him, he found he was drawing a blank. To his annoyance, both Gerard and Mason threw their hands up at the same time. Looking rather shocked, Randolph called on Mason to answer. Mason grinned, held up his voice amplifier, and boldly spoke his answer... into the wrong end. Mason looked dumbfounded, clearly not understanding why only he seemed to have heard his answer. A few of the audience members (and even one or two of the princes) laughed as Mason examined his voice amplifier, evidently under the impression that it was broken. Randolph, who looked annoyed in a resigned sort of way, shook his head and then called on Gerard.
"Albino peacocks," Gerard said, into the correct end of his voice amplifier.
"Correct," said Randolph. "The first point goes to Prince Gerard."
Several audience members, no doubt from Gerard's kingdom, applauded.
"Moving slowly on..." Randolph announced as Mason began to swing his large fists through the air in frustration.
As Bambi had feared, Gerard truly was the one to beat in this round of the challenge. The moment each question was asked, Gerard's hand shot into the air and he was called on to provide the answer. And not a single question was asked that he didn't know the answer to. Every so often though, at least one of the others was given the chance to answer a question, if they could raise their hands at the same moment as Gerard.
On the rare occasion poor Mason was called on, however, his answer was incorrect and he would again swing his fists in the air angrily. Bambi watched this and privately felt embarrassed for him. He quickly learned how not to handle disappointment each time a point went to Gerard. And I'm sorry to say that after roughly half an hour, this proved to be a very valuable lesson indeed.
By the time Gerard had correctly answered twenty-five questions (Bambi, Cecil, and Finn having answered two to four and Mason having answered none) Mason was positively fuming. And when Gerard was officially announced the winner of the event, Mason put on a truly heinous display. Going nearly purple in the face, he threw his voice amplifier a good ten feet away and began shouting and beating his enormous fists against the ground. Bambi would not have been surprised to see him breathing fire as two royal guards appeared and began dragging him out of the arena.
The other princes, though still looking defeated (save for Gerard), left the arena with dignity. Bambi found his entourage waiting for him. They all greeted him warmly, but other than the occasional "Hello," no one said a word right away. They all looked as though they were trying hard to find the right way to say, "Well done". But Bambi knew there was no point in this. No one except Gerard had done well.
Ria, on the other hand, was not smiling. She looked as though she had been let down very badly. Bambi couldn't fully blame her. Back at home, she had been his most vocal and most demanding coach in training for this round of the competition.
No one felt much like talking as they returned to the castle. In fact, no one really said a word until they assembled in Bambi's room after lunch. Bambi slumped down into a chair, not bothering to hide his disappointment.
For several minutes, no one said a word. Then Barron drew himself up and approached his son.
"It's alright, Bambi," Barron said sincerely, clapping him on the shoulder. "There's still a chance for you to find your strengths. And besides, during the Challenge, how you behave when facing defeat is always taken into consideration. And you certainly behaved better than Mason."
"I'll say!" Theodore chimed in. "What a sore loser. Did you see how red he went? I thought the guy was gonna wet himself."
"Thanks, I guess," Bambi shrugged.
"Anyway, we have more pressing matters at the moment," Barron continued. "Tomorrow's event is the, for lack of a better phrase, 'talent' portion."
"Talent?" Bambi asked, puzzled.
"Or so the public calls it," Barron shrugged. "It's really more of a cultural appreciation display.
"That sounds like fun," said Faline encouragingly.
"Speak for yourself," said Bambi, slumping down onto his bed. "Cultural appreciation? What do I know about any of that? I'm not a performer. I can't sing, I can barely dance, I'm only fluent in my native tongue..."
It was true what he'd said. That sounds like fun. It was easy for Faline to say. She could sing and had recently learned to play piano. She was a performer by anyone's standards and would have had no trouble at all in front of an audience. But Bambi? He'd felt nervous enough just standing in front of a crowd twice in the last two days. Now he was supposed to put on some sort of performance for them? And in any case, as he had said, he had no talents worthy of a performance.
Bambi was just beginning to wonder if a prince's girlfriend could be considered a contender in the Challenge when the bedroom door opened and in walked Trixie. Bambi blinked. He had not even noticed that she had been absent.
"Where've you been?" Theodore asked her.
"Eavesdropping," Trixie answered casually.
Theodore gave her an oddly stern look, not unlike one their mother would've made.
"What?" she asked defensively. "Have you seen this place? How could I not? Besides, I've got useful information for our champion here," she added, looking at Bambi.
This got Bambi's attention. "What's that?" he asked.
"I know what the other princes are doing for the talent portion," Trixie elaborated.
"Tell me everything, Trixie," Bambi practically begged, going very straight in his chair. "What are Gerard and Finn doing?"
He was curious to know this, not for the sake of stealing ideas but because he feared being outshone by either of them for a second time.
"Relax, you've got nothing to worry about with those two. Gerard's reading poetry and Finn's doing some lecture on clothes or something," said Trixie.
"Ah yes," said Oswald, nodding. "His kingdom's principle industry is textile production. They take great pride in it."
"That explains a lot," said Bambi, thinking back to Finn's ridiculously flamboyant appearance at the opening ceremony. "Well if that's all it is, I guess there's not much to worry about for tomorrow."
"Actually, there is," said Trixie, looking suddenly uneasy.
Bambi held his breath and went silent, inviting her to keep talking.
"Cecil's gonna be singing. And he's... really, really not bad," Trixie said. "And his song is in french... or something."
Whatever relief Bambi had just felt vanished as soon as it had come. Yet again, one of his contenders seemed already determined to outshine him by a long shot. How in the world was he supposed to compete in a display of cultural appreciation against Cecil, who could not only sing (which Bambi couldn't do to save his life) but was fluent in how many languages? Bambi slumped in his seat with a loud huff. He privately admitted that there seemed to be a pattern unfolding before his eyes; it seemed as though each event in the Challenge had been specifically designed for one of his fellow contenders and not him.
"But if it helps," Trixie added hurriedly, "I have no idea what Mason's doing, and I'm not sure he does either. He's still fuming about the brains test. From what I heard, it sounded like he was literally being restrained."
Theodore scoffed. "Who cares about him? I think we all got enough of a performance outta him today."
Everyone nodded in agreement. Then, to everyone's amazement, Florean spoke.
"You know, Bambi?" he said, looking thoughtful. "I think I may have a solution."
"Oh yeah?" Bambi asked, not ver convinced.
"Remember when we were twelve and my dad signed me up for mime school?" Florean asked.
Bambi and Theodore stared.
"You mean that summer coarse you went to every Tuesday and Thursday?" asked Theodore.
"That's the one," Florean nodded.
Bambi raised an eyebrow. "You never told us that was a mime school," he said slowly.
"Yeah well I, uh... didn't think it was worth mentioning. Not then, at least," said Florean, somewhat awkwardly.
"Why in the world did your dad sign you up for mime school?" asked Theodore.
"He thought that since I was, you know, shy and all, I needed to find a new way to express myself," Florean explained.
"Must've skipped a few classes," Theodore whispered to Bambi.
Florean seemed to have heard him for he then said, rather crossly, "Let's just stick to the subject here. Bambi needs a cultural talent and I've got one."
"Okay, okay. Sorry," huffed Theodore.
"So do you think you can teach me everything you know before the event?" Bambi asked Florean.
Florean smiled and raised an eyebrow. He looked more bold and confident than anyone in the room had ever seen him look.
The next day, the arena looked the same as before, crowd and all. Small tents had been set up along one side of the arena, one for each of the princes and their entourages. As the youngest contender, Bambi was scheduled to go last. As he dressed in a black-and-white striped shirt, black pants with suspenders, white gloves, and a black beret, he couldn't help but wish they could reverse the order so that he could go first and get it all over with.
Evidently this feeling was plastered all over his face and in his posture.
"That's a great 'I'm more nervous than I've ver been in my life' routine you're doin' there, Prince Mimes-alot," Theodore teased.
"Funnily enough, it's not a routine," Bambi said sardonically. "I pretty much am more nervous than I've ever been in my life."
"At least you look better in a beret than I did," Florean said, with a hint of envy in his voice.
"Too bad looking good isn't gonna be much help in this stage in the competition," Bambi said nervously as Faline began fastening a red scarf around his neck.
"You'll do fine," Faline said. "I'll be right nearby and I'll help you any way I can."
Faline, who had nearly mastered the piano through her experience in the Girls' Chorus, had agreed to provide the music to Bambi's mime routine. In spite of Bambi's nerves, he greatly appreciated this, especially now that he would be in the company of someone who had performed in front of a crowd plenty of times.
As she finished with the scarf, a powerful voice from outside the tent announced that it was Prince Cecil's turn.
"Now don't forget," Florean said to Bambi in an unusually demanding voice, "This is the art of acting without words. That means you're relying on body language and facial expressions to connect with the audience. So if they laugh, that means you're doing it right. Oh, and whatever you do, do not go with the 'trapped in a box' routine. That's what they'll be expecting you to do the moment they see your costume. You're gonna want to..."
The rest of Florean's words were drowned out by piano music accompanied by a high, clear, powerful voice that could only belong to Cecil.
"You weren't kidding, Trixie," Bambi said, feeling his throat go dry. "He really is good."
Trixie nodded uneasily.
"By the way," Ria added, indifferently, "that's Italian, not French."
No one else seemed to care that Trixie had made a mistake in recognizing the language in which Cecil's song was sung. His voice was high, clear, and seemed to fill every corner of the arena, even without the use of Gerard's voice amplifier.
Bambi gulped. "I'm supposed to compete with that and I can't carry a tune in a bucket," he said to no one in particular.
"That's why you're doing mime, remember?" asked Daisy, who as usual seemed to have appeared at Bambi's elbow by magic. "Besides, the audience won't want to see two singers in one night. They're gonna want variety! They'll be expecting a different act with each passing prince. And anyway, you don't need to compete with Cecil. Your act is far more unique and interesting! Of course, listen to me talk. I'm a singer, just like Cecil..."
This encouraging statement, though longwinded, seemed to lift a weight within Bambi, if only by a margin.
After Cecil received a rousing applause, everyone endured several long minutes of Finn's lecture on his kingdom's textiles and how they compared to those from other kingdoms. It was small compensation that the audience seemed to find it dull.
Then at last, it was Bambi's turn. He swallowed his fears and he and Faline stepped out into the open air. The piano that had accompanied Cecil was still perched on the temporary stage. Faline took a seat at it and arranged her sheet music. Bambi, meanwhile, took to the center of the stage and faced the crowd. His nerves increased somewhat at the realization that this was the first time he was facing them alone, not in the presence of the other princes.
But as Faline began tickling the ivories, something kicked in. Bambi wasn't sure if it was Florean's shared wisdom of mime acting, Daisy's pep talk, or even years of hearing his father say, "A prince may be afraid, but he can't let fear stop him from acting," but whatever it was made him completely abandon his fear. He then put on his bravest face and began to perform. Accompanied by Faline, Bambi mimed getting out of bed, eating, walking a dog, climbing a ladder, reading a book, and even sword fighting.
But as the applause began to die down, a lone voice Bambi supposed belonged to someone from Cecil's kingdom called out "BOO!"
Faline and several audience members gasped. A few even made indistinct disapproving comments. But Bambi, feeling very much on a roll, saw this as an opportunity to keep up the act. He held his hand above his eyes, squinted, and pretended to search out the individual who had booed him. He then wagged his finger reprovingly, as though scolding the heckler. This earned a rousing laugh from the crowd and they burst into a final round of applause.
Bambi bowed courteously to them. And, figuring he might as well end on a high note, he walked dramatically over to the piano where Faline was seated, put an arm around her, gave the audience a very sly smile, and kissed her right on the cheek.
Author's Note: I'm sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed, and I apologize even more that it's LONG overdue, but I hope you all enjoyed it all the same! I'll do my best not to take my time so much with the next chapter.