human
Priscilla:  “Or like someone who needs the validation of some common nickname when I am already a member of the nobility of the Volakian Empire?” Priscilla held her head high and looked him square in the eye as she spoke, though the man loomed over her.
gpt
Man:  The man stiffened. “I’m sorry, High Countess. You’re going to have to come with us. Our leader wants to meet you.” The man was trying to be polite—at least, as best as a commoner like him could manage. He glanced at his companions and prepared to lead her off.
human
Jorah:  “H-hold, you! If you’re going to take her, then take me as well!”
gpt
Man:  The man in black looked like he was noticing Jorah for the first time. “Didn’t hear anything about you being here with your dad…”
human
Jorah:  “I am not her father. I am her husband!”
gpt
Man:  “Her husband?” The man looked more skeptical than ever, glancing back and forth between Priscilla and Jorah.
human
Priscilla:  “It is true—that man there is my husband. He cannot be my father, for my father was burned to death before my very eyes. More than reason enough to call me the Scorching Lady, I should think, quite apart from my hair.”
gpt
Man:  “Point taken. But if that story’s true, then your husband—”
human
Priscilla:  “Bring him. Otherwise, he’ll simply shout and struggle and make life difficult for you. He’ll be much more pliant if he’s with me. And if you strike him down now— Well, you wouldn’t want me coming after you later, would you?”