ect matter  illustrator, and alto tion, e reserved.

    “tians measure a miniaturist’s proo discover novel subject matter and tec ed tly.

    “Venetians die like Venetians,” said trator who would soon draw me.

    “All our deathe old man.

    “Legends and paintings recount inct from one anot rator. “ter miniaturist earns ery by depicting unique legends as if hem.”

    In tion turned to tians and Ottomans, to ted by tistry of ter aring at me iful eyes in our dear coffeeurbed by ty , o depict me, yet  kind of entity I was.

    ting old man o beguile ter caug of t of to ter.

    “Deatians depict in o us an angel like Azrael,”  like Gabriel, and, don’t you?”

    I realized t ter, , ient and ed to illustrate me, because t ially  is to drao us in all its s somets illumination.

    “I am not, in t, familiar urist.

    “e all knohe old man.

    “e fear it, but  kno.”

    “t falls to you to dra fear,” said the old man.

    to create me just t master miniaturist’s nape ingling; ensing up and , because  genuine of great masters, rained  tension ing in his soul.

    tood ion of me, ed before long, o read passages about me from ti.

    And so, as ter miniaturist oucrait, o  point in t to t point in t.  comfort to truly fait for sinners and rebels as painful as a spike ty of you miniaturists are bound for ed me laden ened to  to you by Allao take your lives  of deat arrives, a leaf falls from tree located beneaturist depicted me as a terrifying