“You should have a monument,” said his grand wazir, Yezdigerd.
“A monument? I like the idea, Yez. But what sort of monument?”
“A statue carved out of a mountainside!”
“Too unrefined.”
“A palace built in the clouds, constructed of angels’ wings!”
“Too ethereal.”
“A pyramid greater than the pyramids at Giza!”
“Unoriginal.”
Yezdigerd subsided. “I’m sorry, my lord. They were only suggestions. I’m not an artist.”
“Yes, Yezdigerd!” cried Yildiz. “That’s what I need! An artist!”