At Rama’s command, the fire ordeal was swiftly arranged. The shadow form of Sita, with deep humility, addressed both the sacred fire and Rama himself. Then Agni, the fire god, spoke kindly to her: “By performing austerity in this very place, you shall attain the fortune of heaven.” Hearing these words, the shadow Sita resolved to undertake intense austerities at Pushkara. In due course, by the power of her penance, she emerged from the sacrificial fire-pit. In the Krita Yuga, she was born as Vedavati, the auspicious daughter of Kushadhvaja. In the Dvapara Yuga, her shadow manifested as the goddess Draupadi, the daughter of Drupada. Narada then addressed the listener, saying, “Thus, O great lord, let all your doubts be dispelled.” Narayana added, “That shadow—endowed with beauty and youth—was greatly troubled in her heart. By the command of Rama and Agni, she undertook severe austerities and sought a boon from Shankara, the great Lord Shiva.” Standing before Shiva, she cried out, “Give me a husband, give me a husband, give me a husband, O three-eyed one!” Hearing her heartfelt plea, Shiva, the lord of rasa, smiled gently. As a result of this boon, she became the beloved wife of the five Pandavas. Meanwhile, Rama, having regained Sita, the enchanting one, in Lanka, ruled over Bharata for eleven thousand years. Vedavati, a portion of the goddess Lakshmi, merged into Kamala. The four Vedas are always embodied. Thus, the tale of Kushadhvaja’s daughter has been briefly told. Continuing, Narayana spoke: “Out of love, she sported with the king on Mount Gandhamadana. They prepared a bed of pleasure, adorned with flowers and sandal paste. She, a jewel among women, graceful and adorned with precious gems, delighted in his company. Their love knew no interruption, for both were skilled in the arts of passion. When her time of menstruation arrived, the king respectfully abstained from lovemaking. Immediately, she conceived, and, remaining chaste, bore the embryo for a hundred divine years. At an auspicious moment, on a day blessed by favorable omens—the full moon of Kārtika, radiant and bright—she gave birth to a wondrous child. The child’s feet glowed with the hue of padmarāga gems, and she was endowed with the fortune of royalty, destined as the presiding goddess of royal prosperity. Her lips were like ripe bimba fruit, and she smiled as she looked about the house. She bore three graceful folds below her navel, with rounded, gently swaying hips. Her complexion was dark, her hair beautiful, her form lovely and shaped like a banyan tree. Men and women alike, beholding her, could find no comparison to her beauty. She embodied the very measure of the earth, as is the nature of women. For a hundred thousand divine years, she practiced supreme austerity. In the heat of summer, she performed the five-fold fire austerity; in the cold of winter, she stood in water. For twenty thousand years, she lived on nothing but fruits and water, and for forty thousand years more, she subsisted on air alone. There she stood on one foot, subtle and nearly imperceptible, until the lotus-born Brahma beheld her. She saw before her the Four-faced One, Brahma, riding on his swan.