seemed that Enishte Effendi had instructed my masters as follows： “Don’t

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paint　like　yourselves；　paint　as　if　you　were　someone　else。”　He’d　forced　them　to

recall　nonexistent　memories；　to　conjure　and　paint　a　future；　which　they’d　never

want　to　live。　What　was　even　more　incredible　was　that　they　were　killing　each

other　over　this　nonsense。

“By　looking　at　these　illustrations；　can　you　tell　me　which　miniaturist　worked

on　which　picture？”　asked　the　Head　Treasurer。

“Yes；”　I　said　angrily。　“Where　did　you　find　these　paintings？”

“Black　brought　them　of　his　own　accord　and　left　them　with　me；”　said　the

Head Treasurer。 “He’s bent on proving that he and his late Enishte are

innocent。”

“During　the　interrogation；　torture　him；”　I　said。　“That　way　we’ll　learn　what

other　secrets　our　late　Enishte　was　harboring。”

“We’ve sent for him；” said the mander of the Imperial Guard。

“Afterward；　we’ll　thoroughly　search　the　house　of　that　newlywed。”

Both their faces were strangely illuminated； a flicker of fear and awe

overcame　them；　and　they　snapped　to　their　feet。

Without having to turn around I knew we were in the presence of His

Excellency；　Our　Sultan；　the　Refuge　of　the　World。

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I　AM　ESTHER

Oh； how wonderful it is to cry along with the rest of them！ While the men

were at the fu