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