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