As the sudden surge of astonishment, which had risen like a fresh flood, began to subside a little, the chief among the poets, Nallan Sathanar, hesitated and said, “My lord! If that is so, the poet who composed this song…”

“The emperor of the earth, who now lies bedridden, deprived of the freedom of his legs, is the very one before you!” declared Sundara Chozhar.

Among the poets, various exclamations of wonder and admiration arose. Some, not knowing how to express their state of mind, shook their heads and bodies in confusion. Others, not even aware of their own feelings, sat as if turned to stone!

Sundara Chozhar spoke: “O great poets! Once, in Pazhaiyarai, poets and bards came to see me. Some of you may have been present in that gathering. Each one sang a verse extolling the generosity of the Chola dynasty; they even sang about me. They sang, ‘I gave this to him,’ ‘I granted that to another,’ and so on. At that time, the young princess Kundavai was sitting beside me. After the poets had received their gifts and departed, the royal maiden praised and admired the songs they had sung. I told Kundavai, ‘I can compose a better song than any of these poets!’ and made a vow. Then, just for amusement, I composed this very song. I asked her, ‘Now, give me my reward!’ The child climbed onto my back, sat astride, and said, ‘Here is your reward!’—and gave me two slaps on the cheek! I remember it as if it happened yesterday; but more than eight years have passed since then!…” he said.

“Marvelous! Marvelous!” and “Wonderful! Wonderful!” the poets exclaimed in delight.

At the very mention of the name Kundavai, Vandiyathevan felt a thrill run through his body. He had heard so much about the beauty, wisdom, and intelligence of that peerless princess born to the Chola clan. This was the fortunate father who had begotten such a wondrous royal maiden; and there, seated beside him, was the venerable mother. With what pride Sundara Chozhar spoke of his beloved daughter! How his voice trembled and softened with emotion as he spoke of her!…

Vandiyathevan’s right hand instinctively moved to touch the silken scroll tied around his waist. For within that scroll was the letter he had brought for Princess Kundavai. But as his hand touched it, he was overcome by a strange confusion; his hand froze, motionless… His heart was seized by confusion. ‘Alas! What is this? The palm-leaf letter is missing! Where has it gone? Has it fallen somewhere? Perhaps when I took the emperor’s letter, this one slipped and fell? Where could it have dropped? Might it have fallen in the audience hall? If so, will it fall into the hands of the Younger Pazhuvettaraiyar? If it is found, will some danger sprout from it? Oh, what a mess! What a grave mistake! How can I manage this now?...’

After realizing that the palm-leaf meant for Princess Kundavai was lost,