The kingdom of Padmavati lay nestled between thick forests and sacred rivers. It was the heart of the Naga Dynasty, ruled by King Ganapati Naga, a just and fearless leader known for his wisdom and strength. His people respected him. His enemies feared him.
But even kings have questions the gods never answer.
One rainy evening, as thunder rolled across the sky and the temple bells rang for evening prayers, the priests of the Shiva temple prepared for dusk prayers. The air was shattered by a sharp, echoing roar — not thunder, not wind, but a lioness's call from deep within the forest.
Startled, the priests rushed to the temple gates. And there, lying on the steps in red silk, was a newborn girl — her skin soft as rose petals, her fists closed, her eyes open and fierce. She didn't cry.She watched.Calm. Awake. Aware.
Beside her were no parents, no messengers — only deep paw prints in the wet stone and a faint warmth in the air, as if something sacred had just passed through.
King Ganapati Naga and his queen had no daughter. When the priests brought the child to the palace, the queen, who had long prayed for another child, held her close and said only one word:
"Dattadevi."
A gift from the divine.
From that moment, the palace began to change. Servants whispered about her calmness, how she rarely cried, how even as a baby she looked at everyone with focus, with thought. She learned to stand before she was one, and when she did, her back was straight and her gaze firm, like a tiny warrior queen.
By the time she was four, she spoke clearly, asked questions about war, dharma, and justice. She loved watching sword training but also enjoyed listening to poetry. Her beauty was undeniable — large, deep eyes, a strong jaw, thick dark hair, and a presence that made people turn their heads when she entered a room.
The queen would smile and say, "She does not walk — she arrives."
And the king, though not one for soft words, watched her often in silence. She was different. Stronger than her age, kinder than most, and sharper than many warriors in his court.
But he never asked who left her at the temple.
And no one ever came looking for her.
Some called her blessed. Others said she was dangerous.
But one thing was certain — Dattadevi was not born to be ordinary.