A Lesson in Beauty

We eat a lot of oatmeal. Typically we eat it with milk and berries or jam. Today, I prepared it with almond milk rather than water, and added a mashed banana in the pot to give it some extra sweetness. A drizzle of blueberries makes the breakfast complete.

I want to continue the story about Ardeshir and Ramona.

The Count’s palace was big, but not as big as the king’s. And being a royal poet, Ardeshir had often been invited to the king’s palace. Still, he felt frightfully out of place, sitting there on a divan, fanned by ostrich feathers held by slaves with pouting lips.

“There’s only one thing I can do for you, Countess,” he said and added a pinch of cardamom to his tea.

The lovely Ramona held her hands up and her many bracelets jingled and gleamed in the hot afternoon sun.

“I shall graciously accept whatever you offer me,” she said.

“It will take time,” he warned her and wondered if he’d dare bite into one of the figs in the bowl.

“I have time,” she said.

“It will take patience, too,” he added and bit into the fig.

“Of course,” she dipped her head.

“And work.”

Oh, that fig was delicious! Might he not also try some dates or a few sultanas?

“Time, work, and patience. I am all yours,” she said and the way she said it made Ardeshir blush. He retrieved his hand from the bowl of dates. No dates for him.

“There’s an ancient set of lessons…” he began. “How about we start with those, hmm?”

It was decided that the lovely Ramona was to come to Ardeshir’s barrel located behind the fishmongers on the market every Tuesday at dawn. She was to bring no food or drink. Her tunic and her many embroidered veils carried with them a scent of lavish musk that temporarily covered the stench of rotten fish and piss.

“These ancient set of lessons Ardeshir talked about, perhaps he would explain further?”

He could tell she was anxious, maybe even having second thoughts of the venture.

“They are secret,” he said rather snappishly and motioned for her to come inside the barrel. This she did and crouched down beside him. He hung up a piece of cloth to cover the opening, blocking the view from her slaves and guards.

“And certainly Ardeshir the poet wants some kind of reimbursement for these… these lessons?”

How innocent she looked! He couldn’t believe such innocence still existed in the world. He wondered if he’d ever seen anything like it. Such lilywhite cheeks, such rose red lips. Beauty unstained. And yet, here she was chattering about reimbursement, batting her eyelashes at him, pretending something had gotten into her eye. Oh, Ardeshir knew what he wanted. He knew how she wanted to pay for an insight into his knowledge, and his body trembled and ached with desire, as his nose took in her scent.

“In the end you shall have to pay with your beauty and your innocence and all of your riches,” he thought, but he didn’t tell her that. After all, he hadn’t asked for her to come to him, had he? She had come willingly, on her own accord. He felt his heart flutter in its cage as he thought of it.

“The first lesson is a lesson in Beauty,” he announced.

“Beauty!” she sighed. “What lesson is there in that?”

“You will see.”

And he began:

“In the land of the Usi, a palace once stood. It held the most exquisite painting of a woman, it was the Astghik. It was said that every man or woman who ever laid eyes on it, never again saw things the same way as they had before. Such was its great beauty. In the year of the Ox, when Hayk slew the bull and blood began to flow into the rivers, Usi fell under attack by warlords, and thieves broke into the palace and cut the exquisite painting until only shreds of it remained. Once order had been established in the land, the King of Usi asked the foremost of craftsmen to repair the painting, which they did as best they could. Alas, the painting was scarred beyond recognition and put away until one day a famous magician traveled by on a donkey. The King of Usi said:
‘I know of all your skills, for your legend has preceded you and I want you to see the famous painting the Astghik, perhaps you can make it whole again.’
And the magician was led into the chamber where the broken painting was hidden. He took a good look at it and turned to the King of Usi and said:

‘This painting is now more beautiful than it ever was, for it has seen pain and the pain has purified and thus beautified it. You do wrong keeping it in the dark. Take it out and put it in the most elegant of all the banquet halls in your palace and let people from near and far pay to see it. This way your people shall never hunger nor suffer thirst again.’

“Oh,” said the lovely Ramona and a ribbon from her hair came undone and fell into her lap. 

“The lesson here is: True beauty can never be destroyed nor can it vanish.”