Genet sketched. He stopped, examined his work, frowned and crumpled the paper into a ball. He had intended to draw Ephrim. Why had it looked so much like Ajani?
Turiq stepped onto the patio and waited.
“What is it?”
“Enlightened One, it is your sister.”
Genet blew out a sigh. “See her in, I guess.”
“Sir,” said Turiq with a scowl, “she is not here. She is in the square.”
Genet stood and scowled himself. “What do you mean?”
“She is preaching.”
Genet fumed. “Unacceptable!”
Turiq asked, “Do you wish me collect her?”
Genet considered his answer.
“Or silence her?”