Heath continued to add pressure, watching "Rael" struggle more and more. He didn't allow faux Rael to speak because it didn't matter what he had to say. The imposter somehow infiltrated the castle and copied Rael's manner. How'd he manage to get past the elder trees? Heath's eyes narrowed. He had to find out how 'Rael' had gotten past the castle's best security. 

Rael's face was nearly white from the lack of color when Heath let go of him. He slumped to the ground, breathing loudly as he desperately inhaled the air his lungs were crying for. But Heath wouldn't let him. He picked Rael up again and slammed him to the wall, causing the latter to gasp from the pain.

"Can you—"

"Speak. How did you infiltrate the castle?"

"Infiltrate...? What?" Rael stopped his wincing to give Heath a dumb look.

"Don't play dumb with me. You were somehow able to perfectly replicate Rael and even his mannerism. Had I not noticed how strange you were acting, I'd be fooled like the rest. Now speak, how did you get past the elder trees?" Heath smoothly lied as he restrained Rael to the wall.

"You? Noticed how strange I was acting?" Rael snorted. Heath frowned. Why was he laughing? Did he not understand the situation he was in? Heath would alert the guards as soon as the infiltrator decided to speak and would promptly be executed for committing a crime as severe as breaking into holy grounds. 

"I don't know how you figured it out, or why you're lying about it, but I'm not Rael." Heath tensed as he applied more pressure against 'Rael'. The boy winced again but let out a smile. "However, I am Rael." Heath paused. He waited for something, a sign, but there was no reaction. His eyes widened. 

"You... How can you bypass lies?"

"It's not a lie though." Rael proceeded to lie and mix truths into the mix. "I'm Rael but I'm not him. I'm here by accident, and I hate your guts." Heath felt the goosebumps rise when he spoke the last sentence. He stared at Rael with confusion. And he let go of him.

"Who... who are you? And where is Rael?" Rael massaged his bruised upper body and sighed. "I told you, I'm him."

"No, you're not. Rael— you— Rael doesn't hate me."

"You're quite confident in that after you nearly killed me." Rael raised an eyebrow.

"And I'll do it again if you don't give me a proper answer." Heath sneered. Rael closed his mouth and frowned. He opened the door to his room.

"Follow me then, I don't want to talk in the open." Heath narrowed his eyes. He looked around the corridor. He felt his earring and twisted it. Even if this was a trap, he could survive it for a minute. It only took seconds to alert the elder trees or guards. 

Heath took a deep breath and walked in.

——

"Sweetie, mother loves you just as much as my children." Lie.

The woman picked the little boy up and cradled him. She smiled sweetly as she began talking to him, assuring him how much she cared for him. But the boy wasn't listening. He could only hear one word on repeat in his head as the woman spoke.

"You'll be a great ruler someday. You're just six years old and already this smart. I'm happy to be your new mother. I love you."

Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.

He burst into tears at her last sentence. The woman groaned and put him down. She called for her husband and pointed at him. "That boy keeps crying whenever I try to talk to him. Is he scared of me? Why doesn't he accept me already?" The king looked at the crying boy.

"He's always like this with strangers. It takes a long while for him to adjust. Just— slowly let him get used to you. I'm sure he'll come to love you as I do." The woman wrapped her arms around the man and gave him pecks. 

"I hope so. I won't be a good mother otherwise. Hopefully, we'll build a great family together. It'll be just you and I. That means no more wives besides me."

"I've only cared for you." Lie.

The woman smiled and kissed him. "And I've only loved you." Lies.

Heath cried even harder. He couldn't help it. His body reacted this way whenever someone lied. Not the crying part, but the discomfort and sadness that followed it. When he was a mere toddler, he'd rarely cry. When his mother was still alive, he'd spend all his time with her and she never gave him any discomfort. 

He had four younger brothers, but they were only half-siblings. Heath was the child of the Queen and crowned as the next heir. It caused a lot of discourse, considering that Crille was older, but he was merely the son of Clara Bendel, the King's mistress.

However, when he was four, his mother passed away from a genetic disease, and she was dying even with the help of the world's best healers. Heath remembered being with his mother in her last moments.

"Heath, don't cry. I'm fine. This is just a little illness, I'll be up and running soon. And when I do, I'll read your favorite stories, sing you your favorite songs and we'll fall asleep in my bed. Isn't that right, Heath?" His mother tried smiling as she stroked her son's cheeks. It only made his sobbing louder. He could hear it, feel it, she was lying. All of her sentences were lies.

Heath clung to his mother until someone had to forcibly drag him away. The next time he saw her, it was when she was being lowered to the ground. He'd attempted to run up and save her, but his father caught him.

"Heath, stop it."

"No! Don't bury mother! She's alive! She's just sleeping! She'll be back soon, healthy and alright!"

"Heath."

"No! She's fine!" Heath could feel his body react to his own words. Even he couldn't believe what he was saying. "She's not dead..." He felt his insides twist and he exclaimed in pain. He fell to his knees, too weak to stand, and the king called for a healer as he looked worriedly at his son. Heath felt his ability attack him... because he had lied. And the unexpected pain made the boy cry. 

Heath's ability to tell lies worked a little differently than that of magical truth stones. Truth stones allowed a person to see if someone was lying or not. However, if the person was speaking in half-truths or half-lies, the stone wouldn't react. The stone worked the best if the other person wasn't aware of it. 

Heath didn't have a weakness like that. He would know even the smallest or whitest of lies. But he also had a drawback. Whenever he lied, he'd feel something akin to someone gut-punching him. So he swore to never lie again. Always be truthful.

But one day, he'd eavesdropped on a conversation that Clara and Per Vandergarden had. 

"This won't work. Heath is good, but I don't think he can handle the responsibilities of a king."

"Clara, no. He's the rightful heir. Heath is doing well for himself."

"But he's not good enough. He barely socializes with others, he bursts into tears at random times and he's struggling with both math and writing. Not only is Crille the opposite of that, but he's also mastered two other languages, he's being taught swordsmanship and politics while still young. He's leagues above Heath so how is it fair that Heath's still the Crown Prince? He's not even the oldest!"

"But he's the child of the late Queen."

"And I'm the current Queen. Do you not love me as much? Is that why you're putting Heath before me?" Clara's voice sounded shaky. Heath put a hand to muffle his breathing. He'd hidden in the closet to surprise his father when Clara had walked in and confronted him. He was in an awkward position and felt suffocated. But he ignored it as his emotions brewed. 

Clara had never cared for him as she was quick to put Crille before him. He knew, even back when she pretended to like him. Heath had gotten better at keeping his emotion at wraps but he'd still cry whenever he made a white lie. It hurt too much. But Heath had tried his best.

But his best wasn't good enough. 

"Clara... don't say that." His father's voice was low as the two grew quiet. Heath stared at the closet doors as he heard his father's reply. 

"If... if Heath continues to struggle as he does... I'll choose Crille as the next heir." Heath hugged his knees and buried his head into them. He hadn't expected his father to give up so easily. Heath had always dreamed of being the king and even been promised it, but now his father was threatening to break his promise. 

"Yes! Yes! I love you so much!" Clara's excited voice was slightly muffled as Heath could hear her give him kisses. And he felt resentment from her happiness. She was happy that she was going to ruin everything. Everything that he'd been preparing for. Heath clenched his fist.

He wouldn't let her. 

And so Heath began to change. He started talking with his half-siblings. His greetings with Crille in the mornings were enough to cause a throbbing pain to occur, which he tried ignoring. Crille never noticed anything and greeted Heath back. 

If he did it often enough if he kept lying over and over again, wouldn't he grow used to it?

Heath began socializing more and kept accepting invites to tea parties and social events. He stopped crying as much, quickly growing used to lying. He smiled at someone's awful joke and empathized with another person's horrible experiences. He'd gotten good at talking. And that gave him a lot of attention.

Heath laughed at the joke that the duke's daughter made, as she put a hand on his shoulder. "Heath, do you perhaps want to talk in private?" Heath barely reacted to her lie.

"Yes." Heath's eye twitched from the pain but he let himself be led by the girl, ending up in an empty room. He lost his first kiss that day. And he had hated it. Heath had to suppress the urge to hurl as she giggled off. 

Heath found himself lying more and more every passing day. But the lies helped him. He began to study better, he was talented with swordsmanship and he was great at understanding others.

Seeing Clara's upset face whenever he did something well made him happy, it almost made the pain worth it.