Manimekalai, the cherished daughter of Sambuvaraiyar, was a girl brimming with exuberance. Her father, mother, and her brother Kandanmaran had, from her childhood, raised her with love and care. Within the palace of Sambuvaraiyar, she reigned as a queen of command. Whatever she decreed became law within those halls. Until a few months ago, Manimekalai’s life had been one of dance, song, and joyous play. But four or five months ago, for the first time, an obstacle arose in her path. The elders of the house began to insist that she must do something against her own wishes. No matter how much Manimekalai tried to teach them the lesson that “obstinacy is of no use,” it seemed to have no effect on the elders.

For the past two or three years, whenever Kandanmaran returned home from the battlefield, he would speak to her about his friend Vallavaraiyan Vandiyathevan. He would lavishly praise his friend’s valor and skill, his cleverness and wit. He would marvel, saying, “In beauty, he is Manmatha himself; in valor, Arjuna; in cunning, Lord Krishna.” “He is the right husband for you. He is the one who can curb your mischief and keep you in check,” he would say.

Manimekalai longed to hear these tales again and again. Yet, at the same time, she would openly quarrel with Kandanmaran, flaring up at him and picking fights.

“You keep saying all this for nothing! One day, bring him here yourself! I’ll see for myself what his prowess is,” she would say.

“Very well, very well!” Kandanmaran would reply, feigning annoyance.

In her own way, Manimekalai had seen Vallavaraiyan Vandiyathevan with the eyes of imagination, befriended him in her mind’s world, laughed and played with him, quarreled and made peace—thus passing her days in such sweet daydreams. At times, she would speak with delight to her closest companions about her brother’s friend, the valiant scion of the Vanar clan. But four months ago, an unexpected obstacle disrupted these pleasant dreams.

Kandanmaran began to speak in a different tone. “Forget that orphaned boy, who has neither home, nor gate, nor rank, nor status!” he said. He revealed his desire to see her seated upon the throne of Thanjavur. Then, one day... He stated the matter plainly. He said that, already, Madhurantakan—who had married the daughter of the younger Pazhuvettarayar—was to marry this girl as well. Madhurantakan, with great pride, declared that he would be the next emperor. If she married Madhurantakan, Manimekalai would shine as empress of the three worlds, he said, and the child born of her womb might one day inherit the empire. Her parents, too, agreed to all this.

But Manimekalai did not like any of this talk. Her heart, having heard so much about Vandiyathevan, had become attached to him. Not only that, she knew that Madhurantakan was a man without valor, one who had never even seen a battlefield, who until yesterday had smeared his body with sacred ash, worn rudraksha beads, and declared his