t as brazen as asking to enter the harem。 Just then； I

understood　that　in　as　much　as　the　harem　and　the　Treasury　occupied　the　two

prettiest　spots　in　the　courtyard　of　the　Private　Paradise　of　Our　Sultan’s　Palace；

they　also　occupied　the　two　dearest　spots　in　Our　Sultan’s　heart。

I　was　trying　to　read　what　would　happen　from　Our　Sultan’s　beautiful　face；

which　I　could　now　look　upon　without　fear；　but　He　suddenly　vanished。　Had　He

been　incensed　and　offended？　Would　we；　or　even　the　miniaturists　as　a　whole；

be　punished　on　account　of　my　master’s　impudence？

Looking at the three horses before me； I imagined that I would be killed

before seeing Shekure again； without ever sharing her bed。 Despite the

immediacy of all their beautiful attributes； these magnificent horses now

seemed　to　have　emerged　from　a　quite　distant　world。

I　thoroughly　realized　during　this　horrifying　silence　that　just　as　being　taken

into　the　heart　of　the　palace　as　a　child；　being　raised　here　and　living　here　meant

serving　Our　Sultan　and　perhaps　dying　for　Him；　so　being　a　miniaturist　meant

serving　God　and　dying　for　the　sake　of　His　beauty。

Much later； when the Head Treasurer’s men brought us up toward the

Middle　Gate；　death　occupied　my　mind；　the　silence　of　death。　But；　as　I　passed

through　the　gate　where　countless　pashas　had　been　executed；　the　guards　acted

as　if　they　didn’t　even　see　us。　The　Divan　Square；　which　yesterday　had　dazzled

me　as　if　it　were　Heaven　itself；　the　tower　and　the　peacocks　didn’t　affect　me　in

the　least；　for　I　knew　that　we　were　being　taken　further　inside；　to　the　heart　of

Our　Sultan’s　secret　world；　to　the　Priva