A/N: A little intake on how Charles got his gift. Set sometime in the 1700's in England.
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"I hate you!" his sister screams as fury smolders in her bright green eyes. Her dress hangs on her. It is stained with blood from their tussle. Tears run down her dirty cheeks, leaving a clean path behind them.
Lie. That's what his instincts are saying. She's telling a lie. Maybe it was the way her full anger wasn't touching her eyes. Perhaps it is just a feeling, but he knows. He knows she isn't telling the truth. Abigail was always like that. She always told lies, maybe she threw a pure truth in there, but it was mostly dishonesty.
"You're lying," he accuses plaintively. She lets out a wordless shriek as he hits spot on.
He spins on his heels. "Never tell a lie," he murmurs as he walks away.