Chapter 81

　　“And the Deceit of Elovyn is written in the language of deceit?” I puzzled it out. “So, it could be implying that Elovyn is lying, or just that the poem is a creation and not a true event?”

　　“Exactly, or,” he leaned back into the seat. “Could it be that the poet deceives the reader by recounting a true event, but implying it is not? The Deceit of Elovyn has kept scholars debating for centuries.”

　　I rose to empty the treasure into the hidden caves.

　　When I returned, he still had not taken up his book. He regarded me with a frown pulling his golden brows together. “What is your name, princess?” he asked.

　　“Liera,” I told him. “Well, it’s Diandreliera, but that’s a bit of a mouthful, and I don’t think anyone has ever called me by my full name.”

　　“Diandreliera,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows. “That is an Elvish name.”

　　“Yes, my father was of Elvish descent. I think I am named for his great grandmother,” I resumed sorting. “Can I know your name?”