As the prince’s arrow struck, the creature’s life ebbed away; his senses faded, his heart pierced and stilled. The prince then severed his wings and took them as his own. Though desire had long left him, the bird lingered for a time before finally succumbing to death, O bird. He had been handsome and learned, yet his presence brought blindness among the people. That jackal, through the workings of fate, was reborn as the daughter of the king of Kanchi. She was gifted with sixty-four arts and her voice was as sweet as the song of a cuckoo. Thus, in the kingdom of Kanchi, in Kaliṅga, these events unfolded. By my grace, a bond arose on earth naturally, binding destinies together. The princess was married to the prince of Kaliṅga, following all proper rites. Divine ornaments, elephants, horses, buffaloes, and women were bestowed upon them, and the prince brought them home, honored by the king. Their affection was unwavering, as enduring as the love between Rohini and the Moon. In the forests and gardens, their surroundings seemed as delightful as Nandana itself. Yet, the illustrious princess sometimes felt lost within herself, and even the earth, out of affection, felt nearly bereft. No one could discern any difference between these two virtuous souls. The prince of Kaliṅga pleased both the citizens and the people of the land; all were satisfied by their character and virtues. They delighted in each other, like Śacī and Indra in their heavenly union. In her friendship, the princess revealed her heart to the prince. Out of love for me, and because it was dear to her, she wished to speak of it. The prince, whose eyes were like lotus petals, replied with sweet words: “I will tell you everything, O beautiful one; I swear by truth. The root of all, O queen, is austerity; the kingdom stands firm in truth. I have never spoken falsely before; tell me, what shall I do for you? Or else, I will perform for you the supreme and excellent coronation.” He reminded her, “One who is asleep must not be seen; this vow lasts but a moment.” When the time came, the prince made the kingdom free from thorns and, having handed it over, departed to the fifth state. This dharma was established by Manu; it is not seen otherwise. He recalled what he had contemplated before, desiring to see his beloved. Yet a vow performed unjustly becomes entirely corrupted. “What is there to be concealed in this matter, that you are troubled?” he asked. “You consume flesh, cooked food, as well as garments and ornaments.” The princess spoke, “You go ceaselessly, O king; what remains when I am not with you?” The king replied with loving words, speaking of righteousness. Together with his queen, he sipped water and rested for a moment. The best among fathers spoke sweet words to his son, and having heard his father’s words, the illustrious prince responded. As time passed, the two remained together, O Earth. Then, with gentle urging, “Come, come, Lord, let us go; see the secret intent,” the story continued, their bond and purpose shining forth.