ty hand.

    I could’ve located t t, razed by fire, y-five years. No migerpreted as signature, proving t Allayle and signature. If ually committed an unpardonable sin by illustrating t book—as t  ained four days ago—even if urists.

    t nig Effendi and I came  yet begun to fall. e could ance.

    “Pray, for e one had asked.

    “ do you plan to s  te hour?”

    “Just a, Enis you are happily rewarded.”

    “Am I to understand t you admit you kneation.

    “I admit it,” I lied obligingly.

    “You acknoure you’ve made is in fact a desecration, don’t you?” ly. “It’s  no decent man . You’re going to burn in ts of hell. Your suffering and pain will never diminish—and you’ve made me an accomplice.”

    As I listened to rengty t, , people rue about miserable creatures ot Eniso fly due to to pay—and because Master Osman, tor, despised  occurred to me t per, ent used ts to buttress ions. to w degree was ?

    I  t pitted us against eac mince o be provoking me to cover up a mistake, as during our apprentice years, ing by Master Osman. Back ty convincing. As an apprentice,  back t yet dimmed from t finally I ; o confess everyto everyone.

    “Do listen to me,” I said ion. “e make illuminations, create border designs, drao pages, er page ones of gold, est of paintings,  is our calling.

    tings from us, ordering us to arrange a selope or a sultan icular frame, demanding a certain style of bird, a certain type of figure, take ticular scene from tory,