The golden glow of dusk cast long, gentle shadows over the forest path as Baahubali and Kattappa quietly trailed Devasena's entourage toward the temple.
The rhythmic clopping of horse hooves filled the air, accompanied by the soft rustle of leaves as a mild evening breeze swept through the trees.
Baahubali, his eyes still smoldering with intrigue, rode in contemplative silence. Though the battle with the bandits had ended swiftly, the imprint of Devasena's skill and composure lingered vividly in his mind. Her fluid archery, sharp instincts, and effortless grace had struck him in a way no battle or victory ever had.
For the first time in his life, the great Bahubali found himself distracted—not by war, duty, or the crown—but by a woman whose gaze still burned in his chest.
Kattappa, riding beside him, stole a glance at the prince.
"You've been staring at nothing for the past hour, my prince," he muttered, his voice low but teasing. "Your thoughts are not on the road."
Bahubali's lips curved faintly, but he didn't respond. Instead, he kept his gaze fixed on Devasena's figure ahead, as she rode toward the temple with her veil drawn back, allowing the gentle evening light to illuminate her features.
And then, with sudden resolve, he tightened his grip on the reins.
"Mama," he said softly, his voice laced with mischief.
Kattappa instantly stiffened. He knew that tone.
"No."
Bahubali's eyes gleamed with playful defiance.
"Mama... hear me out."
Kattappa shot him a sharp glance.
"I know that look, Bahu. It means trouble."
Bahubali turned toward him, his voice lowering with mock innocence.
"I only want to meet her. Nothing more."
Kattappa's eyes narrowed.
"And how exactly do you plan to do that?"
A mischievous grin tugged at Bahubali's lips.
"Simple. We aren't warriors or royals anymore. We are common travelers. A nephew and his uncle, seeking a better life."
Kattappa's eyes narrowed.
"You mean you want to lie."
Bahubali leaned slightly closer, his voice low and persuasive.
"Not lie, Mama. Embellish. Besides... it's only until I learn more about her."
Kattappa exhaled sharply, already regretting where this was headed.
"And what, exactly, are you planning to be?"
Bahubali's smirk widened.
"A simple-minded fool. A harmless, naive man abandoned by his family. And you, Mama... my ever-loyal uncle, struggling to find me honest work."
Kattappa's eyes widened in disbelief.
"What?!"
Bahubali clasped Kattappa's hand, his eyes earnest but filled with mischievous charm.
"Come now, Mama... who would ever suspect a fool?"
For a long moment, Kattappa stared at him, his lips pressed into a thin line. But he knew his prince. The spark of mischief in Baahubali's eyes was one he had seen too many times before. Resistance was futile.
With a deep sigh, Kattappa shook his head.
"You are going to get me killed one day, my prince."
Baahubali's grin widened.
"You wound my heart by sayingthis, Mama."
---
By the time they arrived at the temple, the sun had sunk low on the horizon, casting the sky in hues of deep amber and violet.
The ancient temple, small but elegantly carved from stone, stood atop a modest hill overlooking a clear, shallow stream. Vines clung to its aged walls, and soft lantern light flickered from its archways.
Devasena dismounted gracefully, her entourage fanning out around her as she approached the steps.
Her calm and regal composure returned as she led her attendants toward the temple entrance.
Baahubali and Kattappa dismounted nearby, moving cautiously but not attempting to conceal themselves this time.
As Devasena knelt at the altar, lighting an oil lamp and offering a quiet prayer to lord Mahadeva, her keen senses prickled slightly. She turned her head subtly, her eyes narrowing as she caught movement near the tree line.
Her brows knitted slightly. The same two men from the forest—the ones she had spotted during the bandit attack.
She slowly rose to her feet, her sharp eyes fixed on them. With a curt nod to her guards, she strode across the temple grounds, her head held high, moving toward them with a graceful but authoritative gait.
Bahubali, upon seeing her approach, cast a glance at Kattappa and gave him a slight, almost imperceptible nod.
The signal.
Kattappa exhaled slowly and lowered his head slightly, adopting a weary and subservient posture, as though worn from years of labor.
When Devasena stopped before them, her gaze was sharp and penetrating. She folded her arms elegantly, her eyes flicking between them.
"You again," she said softly but firmly. "Why are you following us?"
Bahubali glanced downward almost bashfully, his lips twisting into a sheepish smile, deliberately avoiding eye contact.
Kattappa stepped forward, bowing deeply.
"Forgive us, Princess," he said, his voice low and humble.
He gestured toward Bahubali, who shuffled slightly and scratched his head clumsily.
"My nephew... Shivu. He... he is simple-minded. Slow. Abandoned by his family years ago. We... we travel in search of honest work for him."
Devasena's eyes narrowed slightly, flicking to Bahubali's lowered gaze. The man before her, despite his broad frame and sharp jawline, seemed to hunch awkwardly—his expression vacant and innocent.
Bahubali offered her a goofy, lopsided smile, his eyes wide with false innocence.
"I-I can lift heavy things," he stammered, his voice slightly slurred, his words deliberately slow and awkward.
Devasena's brow arched slightly. She wasn't fooled—not yet.
"Simple-minded, you say?"
she asked smoothly, her eyes narrowing slightly.
Bahubali nodded enthusiastically, his face brightening with childlike glee.
"Yes! Yes! Mama says I am very strong! I can... um... I can carry cows!"
Kattappa grimaced inwardly, struggling to maintain his serious expression.
Devasena's lips twitched slightly, amused despite herself. She crossed her arms.
"Cows, you say?" she repeated dryly.
Her eyes flicked to Kattappa, who offered her a practiced look of strained desperation.
"Princess," he implored, his voice low and humble. "I beg of you... the great Kunthala is wise and kind. Perhaps you could find my nephew some honest work? He needs nothing more than food and a place to sleep. He is harmless... and strong."
Devasena's eyes narrowed slightly. Though their act was nearly flawless, there was something off.
The man called Shivu—his gaze, though sheepish—held a certain sharpness.
And yet, her curiosity got the better of her.
After a long pause, she exhaled softly and gave a slight nod.
"Very well," she murmured, her eyes still on Baahubali.
"You may accompany us back to the capital. We'll see if Kunthala can find work for him."
Her voice was calm, but her eyes were sharp with suspicion. She turned and walked back toward her horse, motioning for her entourage to prepare for departure.
As Baahubali and Kattappa exchanged glances, the prince stifled a triumphant smirk.
Kattappa, still bowing his head, muttered under his breath,
"You are going to be the death of me, Bahu."
Baahubali grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Not today, Mama. Not today."
---
The orange glow of dusk bathed the capital of Kunthala in soft light as Devasena's entourage approached the grand palace gates.
The banner of the royal family fluttered gently in the evening breeze, and the guards at the gate, recognizing their princess, promptly opened the ornate iron gates, bowing deeply as they allowed the procession to pass through.
Bahubali, still disguised as the simple-minded Shivu, rode silently behind Devasena, his eyes sweeping over the palace grounds.
It was his first true look at the heart of Kunthala—a kingdom of dignity and strength, yet clearly shaped by its progressive ideals.
The walls were adorned with murals depicting knowledge and valor, and he noticed children reading scrolls under the shade of tall trees while merchants traded without fear, their faces calm and content.
Kattappa, riding beside him, leaned in and muttered softly.
"Magnificent, isn't it, my prince?"
Bahubali, his eyes filled with genuine admiration, gave a small nod.
"Yes... Mama."
At the palace entrance, Devasena dismounted gracefully, turning to glance back at the two men. Her eyes briefly lingered on Shivu, a flicker of curiosity and suspicion still present in her sharp gaze.
Despite his seemingly vacant smile, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him.
She turned toward the head palace steward, a thin, elderly man with a shrewd expression.
"Arrange for this man—Sivu—to be given work as a guard," she instructed firmly. "He is strong and able. Let him serve under Kumar Varma."
Kattappa bowed deeply, his voice brimming with humble gratitude.
"Princess, you are merciful and kind. My poor nephew thanks you."
Bahubali, playing his part perfectly, clumsily attempted to bow but ended up stumbling slightly, earning a few muffled chuckles from nearby guards.
He gave a goofy grin, scratching his head awkwardly, further selling the image of a dim-witted fool.
Devasena's lips twitched slightly, though she remained impassive. With a final glance at Shivu, she turned and strode into the palace, her royal mantle flowing behind her.
---
Within the hour, Bahubali, still in disguise, was brought to the royal guard barracks, where he was introduced to Kumar Varma—Jayvarma's brother-in-law.
The barracks were built with solid stone walls, and the large courtyard was bustling with guards engaged in sparring, cleaning weapons, and practicing formations.
Kumar Varma, now wearing his captain's armor, stood near the training grounds, overseeing a sparring match.
He was barely two years older than Bahubali but seemed to carry himself with a self-important air, his chest puffed out slightly. His expression was filled with haughty confidence, though Baahubali noted a slight nervousness in his eyes, hidden behind his forced bravado.
When he spotted the newcomers, Kumar Varma turned dramatically, his lips curving into an exaggerated smirk.
"Ah! Another recruit?" he called out, his voice loud and theatrical. "I am Captain Kumar Varma, finest swordsman in Kunthala! They say even the legendary Kattappa would struggle to match my skill."
Bahubali, barely concealing his amusement, gave a slow, exaggerated nod, pretending to be awestruck by the boast.
"Ooooh... great warrior... Kumar..." he drawled, his voice deliberately slow and clumsy.
Kattappa, nearby, stifled a cough to mask his exasperated sigh.
Kumar Varma, evidently pleased by the praise, flourished his sword in a showy display.
He performed an elaborate spin, followed by a swift downward slash—his movements fast but lacking fluidity, making them inefficient for real combat. Still, he clearly enjoyed the spectacle.
"You see that?" Kumar declared grandly, addressing a nearby group of guards. "That move alone has felled ten men in a single battle!"
The guards exchanged subtle glances, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to challenge their captain's inflated claims.
---
For the next few hours, Baahubali, still acting as Shivu, trained alongside the other guards under Kumar Varma's supervision.
Despite his bumbling demeanor, Bahubali handled the weapons with practiced ease, though he deliberately made mistakes to avoid drawing attention.
During the sparring session, he observed Kumar Varma carefully. To his mild surprise, he discovered that Kumar, beneath his braggart exterior, was actually skilled with a sword.
His movements, though exaggerated in front of others, were precise in real combat.
However, Bahubali also noticed the subtle trembling of his hands whenever a sparring match became too intense.
It was during one of these sessions that Baahubali came to understand Kumar Varma's nature fully.
During a sparring match with a more aggressive opponent, Kumar landed a swift counterstrike, disarming his opponent with a well-placed feint.
The watching guards clapped lightly, impressed.
However, when the same opponent pressed forward again with more aggression, Kumar stumbled slightly, and a flicker of fear crossed his eyes.
Instead of standing his ground, he stepped back sharply, deflecting the blow but clearly flustered.
After the match, Bahubali casually approached him, still feigning his simple-mindedness. He grinned dimly and spoke with deliberate slowness.
"Shivu saw... Captain is very brave!" he said enthusiastically. "Not even scared when the sword came close!"
Kumar Varma, instantly puffing out his chest, smirked.
"Hah! Yes, of course. A true warrior does not fear steel, no matter how close it comes."
Bahubali, feigning awe, clapped his hands like a child, making Kumar grin wider.
But behind the foolish grin, Baahubali silently noted the truth—Kumar Varma was more afraid than he let on.
Though he possessed genuine skill, his cowardice kept him from greatness. It made him hesitate in the face of true danger, no matter how confidently he spoke of valor.
---
As the days passed, Bahubali continued working in the barracks, observing both the guards and the palace.
Kattappa, playing his role as the loyal uncle, quietly passed him information about Kunthala's structure—its defenses, its culture, and its leadership.
Through Kattappa's casual observations, Bahubali learned more about Virendra's growing influence, Jayvarma's steady reign, and the loyalty of the soldiers.
But his thoughts increasingly drifted toward Devasena.
Every time he caught a glimpse of her from afar, his heart would stir with unfamiliar longing.
He was not sure if it was curiosity, admiration, or something deeper, but her presence lingered in his thoughts even long after she was gone.