Born into wealth and raised amidst luxury was the young princess, Kundavai Devi. In beauty, she rivaled Rathi; in wisdom, the goddess of arts; in fortune, the goddess of prosperity herself. From Sundara Chola Chakravarthi down to the common folk of Chola Nadu, all revered her. In the palace, many waited eagerly for the chance to fulfill even the smallest of her wishes. Lesser kings longed for the honor of having a princess from their own line serve as Kundavai Devi’s handmaiden. Across the land of Bharata, princes destined for imperial thrones undertook penance, yearning for the fortune of holding Kundavai’s hand in marriage.

Yet, this princess, blessed with every conceivable fortune, was now submerged in a boundless ocean of sorrow. All the warnings she had sent to Aditya Karikalan had been in vain. She had dispatched an urgent message, begging him not to go to the palace of Sambuvarayar. Her beloved elder brother, who always held her word in the highest regard, had brushed aside her plea and set out for Kadambur Palace. There, in mysterious circumstances, he had met an untimely death. Kundavai had always believed that Nandini was a sister to herself, to Karikalan, and to Arulmozhi. She also knew that, for some reason, Nandini harbored a deep-seated grudge against Karikalan. If it was indeed by Nandini’s hand that Karikalan met his end, there could be no greater disgrace or shame for the Chola dynasty. After Karikalan’s death, the fate of Nandini remained unknown.

The loss of her beloved brother brought Kundavai immeasurable grief. Even two days after his soul had departed, she melted in sorrow, recalling the heroic radiance that had always shone upon his noble face. Ah! What dreams that great warrior had cherished! He had spoken of conquering lands up to the Himalayas, like Karikala Peruvallathan, and planting the tiger banner atop its peaks. Such a man’s glorious body had, in the span of half a nazhigai, been reduced to ashes. He had merged with the very soil of Chola Nadu. Yet, from that mingled earth, in the days to come, thousands upon thousands of valiant heroes would arise. They would set forth from Chola Nadu in all directions, crossing seas to distant lands. They would wage mighty wars and expand the borders of the Chola Empire. Wherever they went, they would raise towering temples with sky-piercing gopurams, proclaiming the greatness of Chola Nadu. They will stand tall and majestic, as proclaimed to the world. They will spread the glory of Tamil, its arts, and the Saiva and Vaishnava faiths. The hymns of the three great Tevaram saints and the songs of the Alwars will resound in lands beyond the seas. The victorious cry of “Vetri Vel! Veera Vel!” will echo everywhere…

These are not mere dreams. They are things that can truly come to pass. If all that the elders, astrologers, and experienced mothers have said about the auspicious hour of Arulmozhi Varman’s birth is true, then all the visions Karikalan dreamed of may well be fulfilled through Arulmozhi Varman. But how many obstacles stand in the way of this? Ah! Who knows what disasters these petty kings, in their mutual quarrels, might bring about? Malayaman and Velan are stubbornly determined that Arulmozhi Varman must ascend the throne at any cost. The Pazhuvettaraiyars and their allies are gathering armies in support of Madurantakan. The Emperor, struck by two great calamities in quick succession, is sunk deep in an ocean of sorrow. He refuses to speak to anyone about anything. He is consumed by remorse, thinking again and again of the sin he committed in his youth. No one dares even to offer him words of comfort. If even his own beloved daughter fears to approach him, what can be said of others!

Arulmozhi Varman himself is ready to renounce the kingdom. He wishes to crown Madurantakan, and then, with the Chola armies, cross the seas and embark on a campaign of conquest. But even this faces an unexpected obstacle. For some reason, the venerable and much-revered elder queen, Sembiyan Madevi—whom all of Chola Nadu honors—objects to her son being crowned. She claims it is the command of her departed husband. How all these tangled knots will be unraveled, no one knows.

As if all these worries about the Chola clan and the Chola empire were not enough, another great anxiety tormented and consumed Kundavai. The valiant prince of the Vanar clan, who had captured her heart, was now imprisoned in a subterranean dungeon. They were trying to hold him responsible for the murder of Aditya Karikalan. In this, Parthibendran of the Pallava clan was being especially obstinate. Her grandfather Malayaman might perhaps listen if she spoke. But how could she, as a woman, intervene in the matter of a man who was already under suspicion? If it became known that she cared more for Vandiyathevan, a wandering adventurer, than for her own brother Aditya Karikalan, what greater disgrace could there be? Parthibendran was just the sort of man who would be eager to spread such a scandal. At the very spot where Karikalan was found murdered, Vandiyathevan was caught, red-handed… It may well be true, as Parthibendran says, that Sambhuvarayar and Kandhamaaran have been captured. But Vandiyathevan should have fulfilled the promise he made—to never leave Karikalan’s side, not even for a moment. He must have tried to save Aditya Karikalan from the assassins, and, failing in that attempt, suffered defeat.

But how can the truth of this matter be discovered? Even if I try to go and see Vandiyathevan myself, or have him brought here from prison, it will only give rise to needless suspicions and malicious gossip. No one would dare say anything about me. Even if they did, I would not be troubled. But there are some cunning people who are trying to make Arulmozhi Varman responsible for Karikalan’s death. If I act rashly and do something, it might only serve to benefit their faction—should that be allowed to happen?