In the hut at the center of the flower garden, Sendhan Amudhan lay ill upon his mat. Poonguzhali was tending to him with loving care. She brought him the rice gruel prepared by Vaani Amma and made sure he drank it.

Not long before, a physician had come from Sundara Chozha’s infirmary to examine Sendhan Amudhan and had just departed. As he was leaving, Poonguzhali spoke to him privately.

“How is Amudhan? Will he recover and rise again?” she asked.

“He had already grown weak from a previous bout of fever. On top of that, he undertook a long journey and, I hear, fell from his horse on the way back. None of that is dangerous in itself. But he is harboring some worry in his heart. That is what is hindering his recovery,” the physician replied.

Holding these words in her heart, Poonguzhali now asked, “Amudha, what is troubling your mind? Why do you seem so listless? The physician says your recovery is delayed because of your inner sorrow.”

Amudhan replied, “Poonguzhali! Shall I speak the truth? Or shall I keep one thing in my heart and say another aloud?”

“Are you accusing me of speaking one thing and thinking another?” Poonguzhali asked.

“Poonguzhali! Speaking with you is dangerous. If you were silent, I could simply gaze at your face and be happy.”

“If I had been born mute like my aunts, you would be happy, wouldn’t you?”

“Never! There is no limit to the joy I feel when you sing. What is there in mere words? Sing me a Thevaram hymn!”

“That won’t do. I’ll only sing if you tell me what is troubling your heart.”

“In that case, I’ll tell you. Listen! All my worry is that my body seems to be recovering too quickly.” “Why do you speak like this? I have been praying to all the gods for your health to be restored, haven’t I? Why are you worried that you will recover?”

“If my health is restored, you will leave me and go away, won’t you? That is what troubles me, Poonguzhali.”

Poonguzhali’s face shone like a freshly bloomed red lotus glistening with morning dew. A smile blossomed on her lips. Tears welled up in her eyes.

“Amudha! My heart melts when I think of your love. I do not wish to leave you; yet, I cannot stay either.”

“Yes, the roaring sea is calling you away. But what of it? I will come with you. Just give me your consent, and my body too will be healed.”

“Amudha! There is a vow I have made in the depths of my heart that stands in the way.”

“What vow is that?”

“It is my heart’s desire to wed the king who rules this earth and sit with him upon the throne. If this cannot be, I have sworn to remain a maiden for the rest of my days.”

“Ah yes; Ponniyin Selvan has found a place in your heart. But Poonguzhali! Is that something