As he neared the stream, Vandiyathevan clearly recognized that the young princess seated in the boat was none other than Kundavai herself. Since Azhwarkkadiyan was standing nearby, Vandiyathevan hesitated and paused.

“Why are you standing there, my friend?” said Azhwarkkadiyan. “The young princess has been waiting for you a long time. As soon as you board the boat, first tell her the good news: ‘The prince has arrived; he is safe.’ Don’t waste time recounting your heroic exploits! I am leaving now. Today, in Pazhayarai, we have unleashed the demon of chaos. Let me see if I can catch it and lock it up again. How many troubles your reckless adventures have caused!” With these words, Azhwarkkadiyan hurried away the way he had come.

Vandiyathevan was filled with wonder. How does he know all these details? He never asked me a single thing! Is it all guesswork? Or does he truly know everything? Among the Andis, there are two kinds: those who are Andis by lineage, and those who become Andis out of necessity; it seems there are two kinds among spies as well. I became a spy out of urgency; that’s why I keep landing in trouble. This Vaishnavan seems to be a hereditary spy; that’s why he does his work calmly and without any fuss. But for whom is he working? Is everything he told me about himself true?

Thinking thus, Vandiyathevan reached the bank of the stream and looked at the princess’s face in the boat. He forgot Azhwarkkadiyan. He forgot the mission he had just completed. He forgot the world—he even forgot himself.

Ah! This maiden’s face has never left his thoughts, not even for a moment. In dreams and in waking, in storm and on mountain, in forest and in the midst of the sea, it has always been with him. Yet what a wonder! When seen in person, why does the beauty of this face seem even greater? Why does his throat feel choked? Why does his heart beat so wildly?

Without conscious thought, Vandiyathevan stepped into the water, waded a few paces, and climbed into the boat. The princess signaled to the boatman, and the boat began to move. Vandiyathevan’s heart, too, began to sway. “Nimithakkara! Do you tell omens only for princes? Will you tell them for me as well? How do you divine omens? Do you look at the planets and stars in the sky? Or do you watch the crows and sparrows? Do you read the lines of the palm?… It seems you tell omens by reading faces. Otherwise, why do you keep staring fixedly at my face? If you behave so, no woman of noble birth will ever come to you to ask for omens!” said the young princess, her words ringing in Vandiyathevan’s ears like the sweet chime of anklets.

“My lady! I was not looking at your face to tell your fortune. I was only trying to recall where I had seen such a face before, as