Nandini and Vandiyathevan stood together as the prince and Manimekalai approached them.

The prince walked towards them, his gaze fixed on Vandiyathevan until he drew near. As he came closer, he turned his eyes to Nandini. He noticed blood oozing from wounds on her cheek and shoulder, red as if marked by crimson lines.

“Alas! Has that wretched tiger wounded you?” he exclaimed.

“Yes, my lord! But the tiger has only wounded my body; it has not wounded my heart!”

These words struck straight into Karikalan’s heart. Before he could say anything further, Manimekalai hurried to Nandini’s side in agitation.

“Oh, sister! It has scratched you badly! Luckily, I brought some ointment. Come, let me apply it! If you put it on immediately, the wound will heal quickly!” she said.

“Sister, wounds like these are quite ordinary for me. I have suffered and recovered from many such injuries. Tell me, do you have any ointment that can heal a wound to the heart?” replied Nandini.

“Oh! I have that too, sister! I have that as well!” said Manimekalai, and taking Nandini by the hand, she led her to the crystal pavilion.

The prince and Vandiyathevan followed a little behind and sat down on a stone platform beneath the shade of a large mango tree near the pavilion.

“My lord! The sooner we leave this place, the better! If we linger here too long, Kandanmaran and his father might misunderstand,” said Vandiyathevan.

“Let anyone think what they will. Will they take our heads for it? It is enough if these women do not misunderstand us. Once they return, we can take our leave,” replied the prince.

After a short while, Nandini and Manimekalai returned, dressed in fresh garments and adorned with ornaments. The wounds on Nandini’s cheek and shoulder were now hidden beneath a layer of salve, with no trace of blood to be seen. “We were waiting to bid you farewell before we left,” said Karikalan.

“That is good; but it is already past noon. You must stay with us and have your meal before you go. If I let you leave at this hour, the daughter of Sambuvaraiyar will never forgive me,” said the Lady of Pazhuvoor.

“We will stay, but only on one condition: Manimekalai has already applied ointment to my wound. But she also spoke of a balm for the wounds of the heart. If she will tell me what that balm is, we shall stay,” said Karikalan.

“Why not try to guess it ourselves without asking her?” said Nandini.

“Perhaps she meant the forgetfulness that comes with the passage of time,” said Karikalan.

“That cannot be; are there not wounds of the heart that time cannot heal?” asked Nandini.

“When it comes to women, there is indeed a fine balm for the wounds of the heart! That is—tears!” said Vandiyathevan.

“The Prince of Vallam was waiting for an opportunity to mock women; but what he says is not true. There are certain wounds of the heart