The dagger thrust into his hand by Shivudu (Oh, wait, is that indeed his name?) is still there with him, even if Kumara Varma isn’t sure what to do with it.
He has never managed to pull off his impeccable moves beyond the confines of his private chamber, and he suffers from a stage fright of sorts.
He is aware that every inhabitant of the Kuntala palace, secretly or not so discreetly, calls him a coward.
Except his ‘student’, who even seems to believe in him.
His first few movements are awkward, shaky even, but he surprisingly manages to stab an invader.
However, the moment the enemy forces dare to manhandle the women, something just explodes within Kumara.
Before he even realises what he is doing, he throws himself right over the enemy forces, lifts up one of the soldiers over his head and hurls him with all his might in perfect Bhima style, crushing some more soldiers.
If this is called valour, then being brave is easier than I thought, Kumara Varma smiles to himself, relishing the startled expressions of the royal ladies.