That day, the city of Thanjavur was in a state of jubilant commotion. Was it any wonder that the people of the capital were so elated to hear that the princess, who had not visited the city for many years, had changed her mind and was coming to Thanjavur? There was not a soul in Chola Nadu who did not know of Princess Kundavai’s beauty, wisdom, and compassion. Nor was there anyone who did not, at least once a day, mention her name in connection with some rumor or another. The gossip that the princess would be present at the palace in Thanjavur for this year’s Navaratri festival had already spread, heightening the people’s anticipation. Therefore, as soon as it was known that she was arriving today, a veritable ocean of people gathered at the gates of Thanjavur fort, waiting in eager expectation. Like the waves of the sea rejoicing at the sight of the full moon rising, this human sea surged with excitement and clamorous joy.

At last, the full moon did rise. No—two moons rose at the same time. When Princess Kundavai arrived at the gates of Thanjavur fort with her retinue, the great doors swung open with a resounding clang. The palace attendants came out to welcome and escort her inside. At the head of these attendants stood the two Pazhuvettaraiyars. Not only that; behind them came a palanquin adorned with ivory and set with pearls. As its silk curtains parted, the radiant, moon-like face of the young queen of Pazhuvoor, Nandini Devi, was revealed.

Kundavai alighted from her elephant, and Nandini descended from her palanquin. Nandini hurried forward and greeted Kundavai with a smile and words of welcome. Kundavai acknowledged the greeting with a gentle smile of her own.

The enthusiasm of the crowd, who beheld together those two peerless beauties of Chola Nadu, overflowed its bounds. Nandini’s complexion was golden; Kundavai’s was the hue of the red lotus. Nandini’s golden face was round and full, like the full moon; Kundavai’s visage, sculpted as if by the hands of a master, was delicately elongated. Nandini’s dark eyes, rimmed with crimson, were wide and restless, like bees with outspread wings; Kundavai’s deep blue eyes were long and radiant, like the petals of the blue lotus. Nandini’s nose was flat and gleaming, as if carved from ivory; Kundavai’s nose was slightly long, like the bud of a paneer flower. Nandini’s lips, a little thick, glowed like coral cups brimming with nectar; Kundavai’s slender lips were like... The pomegranate bud shone, bursting forth in brilliance. Nandini had adorned her hair, coiled into a chignon and decorated like a garland of blossoming flowers. Kundavai’s tresses, on the other hand, were arranged like a jeweled crown, as if to declare, “She is the queen of beauty.”

It cannot be said that everyone there delighted in separately comparing and contrasting the beauty and adornment of those two peerless women. Yet, it was evident to all that both were unparalleled in their loveliness, and that in their appearance and ornamentation, they were distinctly different.

Until then, the townspeople had harbored a certain dissatisfaction and envy toward Nandini. Each person revered Princess Kundavai with devotion, as if she were their family deity. But now, when the young queen of Pazhuvoor herself came to the fort’s entrance to welcome the younger princess, it filled the people with immense joy.

While the crowd was thus immersed in happiness, the conversation that took place between Nandini and Kundavai crackled like lightning striking against lightning.

“Devi! Welcome, welcome! We thought you had completely forgotten us. Today we have learned that the compassion of the young princess knows no bounds,” said Nandini.

“How is that, Rani? Does being far away mean one has forgotten? Since you have not come to Pazhaiyarai, should I assume you have forgotten me?” replied Kundavai.

“Bees themselves come toward the honeyed blossom; no invitation is needed. Who would not come to beautiful Pazhaiyarai? But for you to come to this ill-fated Tanjai fort—does it not speak to the greatness of your compassion?”

“How can you say such a thing? Can one call the city of Tanjai an ill-fated place, when beauty itself is imprisoned here?” said the young princess.

“That is what I too have heard—that the Emperor has been imprisoned here. But now there is no more worry; you have come to set him free, have you not?” said Nandini, and in her eyes, a flash of lightning appeared and vanished.

“How beautiful! Not even the gods themselves could imprison Sundara Chola Chakravarthi. How could mere mortals do so? I was not speaking of that. I was speaking of Nandini Devi, the goddess of beauty…”

“Speak clearly, Devi! Say this so that he may hear it. The Lord of Pazhuvur keeps me as though I am a prisoner. If you could put in a word for me…”

“What use is my recommendation? Is it an ordinary prison that holds you? Is it not the prison of love? And moreover…”

“Yes, Devi! And if it is the old man’s prison of love, then there is no escape! They speak of some underground dungeons, do they not? At least those locked within them may one day emerge! But…”

“Yes, Queen! And if it is a shackle we have placed upon ourselves, if it is a prison we have sought out and entered, then liberation is indeed difficult!… Those who walk in the path of Sita, Kannagi, Nalayini, and Savitri will not even seek deliverance!… Look, what is that commotion over there?” said Princess Kundavai.

Indeed, from amidst the crowd of women gathered a short distance from the fortress gate, a great clamor was rising. Kundavai and Nandini drew near to the spot. At first, since many women were shouting at once, it was difficult to understand what was happening. Then, gradually, it became clear. The women wished to visit the younger princess at the palace more often, and so they were petitioning for the restrictions