WasNuritheMiniaturist,whowasmuchmoresubtleinthoughtthanI’dassumed,beingreservedbecauseheuoodthatmyEnishtesentmeheretoiigate,orwashemerelyparrotingHeadIlluminatorMasterOsman?

    “IsEleganttheoneresponsibleforallthisgildingwork?”Iasked.“Who’sdoingthegildingnow,inhisstead?”

    Theshoutsandscreamsofchildrencouldnowbeheardthroughtheopendoorthatfacedtheinnercourtyard.Below,ohedivisionheadshadstartedadministeriinadotoapprenticeswho’dmostlikelybeencaughtwithredinkpowderintheirpocketsoldleafhiddenawayinafoldofpaper;probablythetwowhomI’dseentremblingastheywaitedinthecold.Youngpainters,seizinganopportunitytomockthem,rantothedoortowatch.

    “BythetimetheapprenticespaintthegroundoftheHippodromeherearosecolor,finishingitoffasourMasterOsmanhasdictated,”saidNuriEffendicautiously,“ourbrantEffendi,Godwilling,willhavereturnedfromwhereverhe’sgoneandwillpletethegildingowopages.Ourmaster,OsmantheMiniaturist,wantedElegantEffenditocolorthedirtflooroftheHippodromedifferentlyineachse.Rosepink,Indiangreen,saffronyelloworthecooseshit.Whosoeverbeholdsthepicturewillrealizeinthefirstrenderingthisisadirtsquareandshouldbeearth-colored,butinthesedandthirdpictures,he’llwantothercolorstokeephimselfamused.Embellishingoughttmerrimenttothepage.”

    Inotiepicturesoofpaperthatanassistainaer.Hewaswonasingle-leafpictureforaBookofVictories,thedepiofanavalfleetheadingofftobattle,butitwasobviousthatthescreamsofhisfriendswhosesoleswerebeingseverelybeaten,provokedtheillustratortorunoffandwatch.Thefleeth