outing。”
“My beloved master； my good sir； this is quite a coincidence；” said Black。 “I；
too； am quite fond of that scene from Hüsrev and Shirin。”
“These aren’t fables； but events that actually happened；” I said。 “Listen； the
miniaturist didn’t depict the shah’s beautiful daughter as Shirin； but as a
courtesan playing the lute or setting the table； because that was the figure he
was in the midst of illustrating at the time。 As a result； Shirin’s beauty paled
beside the extraordinary beauty of the courtesan standing off to the side； thus
disrupting the painting’s balance。 After the shah saw his daughter in the
painting； he wanted to locate the gifted miniaturist who’d depicted her。 But
the crafty miniaturist； fearing the shah’s wrath； had rendered both the
courtesan and Shirin； not in his own style； but in a new way so as to conceal
his identity。 The skillful brush strokes of quite a few other miniaturists had
gone into the work as well。”
“How had the shah discovered the identity of the miniaturist who
portrayed his daughter？”
“From the ears！”
275
“Whose ears？ The ears of the daughter or her picture？”
“Actually； neither。 Following his intuition； he first laid out all the books；
pages and illustrations that his own miniaturists had made and inspected all
the ears therein。 He saw what he’d known for years in a new light： Regardless
of the level of talent； each of the miniaturists made ears in his own style。 It
didn’t matter if the face they depicted was the face of a sultan； a child； a
warrior； or even； God forb