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Süleyman　Pasha；　into　whose　service　he’d　managed　to　enter。　Four　years　later；

when　Our　Sultan　died；　and　with　the　ascension　of　Sultan　Mehmed；　who　turned

his back entirely on all artistry； Black’s enthusiasm for illumination and

painting turned from an openly celebrated pleasure into a private secret

pursued behind closed doors。 There were times when he’d open one of the

books　left　to　us　by　my　father；　and　stare；　guilty　and　sad；　at　an　illustration　made

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during the era of Tamerlane’s sons in Herat—yes； Shirin falling in love with

Hüsrev after seeing his picture—not as if it were part of a happy game of

talent still being played in palace circles； but as if he were dwelling upon a

sweet　secret　long　surrendered　to　memory。

In the third year of Our Sultan’s reign； the Queen of England sent His

Excellency a miraculous clock that contained a musical instrument with a

bellows。　An　English　delegation　assembled　this　enormous　clock　after　weeks　of

toil　with　various　pieces；　cogs；　pictures　and　statuettes　that　they　brought　with

them　from　England；　erecting　it　on　a　slope　of　the　Royal　Private　Garden　facing

the　Golden　Horn。　The　crowds　that　collected　on　the　slopes　of　the　Golden　Horn

or came in ca？ques to watch； astonished and awed； saw how the life…size

statues and ornaments spun around each other purposefully when the huge

clock played its noisy and terrifying music； how they danced elegantly and

meaningfully　by　themselves　in　time　to　the　melody　as　if　they　were　creations　of

God　rather　than　of　His　servants；　and　how