human
Prisca:  If the dead girl was the masterwork of an accomplished artist, then the one looking down at her was the very essence of that same beauty the artist had aimed for but could never achieve within the confines of this mortal realm. As they stood there, mouths agape, the servants began to understand. This was the terrible nature of true beauty.
gpt
Servant:  “Lady Prisca,” said one of the nearby servants.
human
Prisca:  Hearing them, the girl—Prisca—turned and cocked her head. Her hair blazed orange like the sun, and her eyes were almond-shaped and as red as set rubies. Confronted with the real thing, it suddenly seemed impossible that anyone could confuse her with a lesser. She was simply made differently.
gpt
Servant:  “Th-thank goodness you’re safe…”
human
Prisca:  “Hmph. Your sentiment doesn’t even qualify as trite. Do you imagine I could ever have been laid low by such insipid means? It’s not cheap, though, to find such a capable body double.” She glared at the servant, who kept her head bowed, and then walked over to the double. A body double—someone who looked sufficiently like a person of importance to stand in their place and do dangerous things for them. Wherever plots and plans were afoot, body doubles were standard tools of the trade, and they knew very well that they performed their duties with their lives on the line. Even so, Prisca didn’t specifically wish for her double to die in agony. Considering that they had, of course, chosen a young woman who looked very much like her, it was difficult to not find the scene disquieting.
gpt
Prisca:  “So there is someone who wished to make me wear a death mask like this,” she mused.
human
Prisca:  As the girl, just eleven or twelve, contemplated the still bodies, the servants stood and quaked. Who could mock them for it, call it cowardice? Certainly no one who had seen the girl—so young and so fair, with a profile so cruel and eyes so very red.
gpt
Prisca:  “Chief Attendant. Come.”
human
Attendant:  “Y-yes, ma’am!” Prisca beckoned to a woman who stepped forward on behalf of all the attendants. Fear was written on her face and in the trembling of her shoulders, fear of a child at least twenty years her junior. This earned her a “Hmph” and a look from Prisca.
gpt
Prisca:  She motioned the woman to listen. "You are the one who decided who would serve in the household today, are you not?”
human
Attendant:  “That’s…correct, milady. Therefore, please let all responsibility for this oversight fall on me.”
gpt
Prisca:  “Fool. To what purpose do you think I entrusted you with that job?”
human
Attendant:  “What purpose, milady?” The attendant’s eyes widened at the question; she had clearly been expecting a dressing down at the very least.
gpt
Prisca:  Prisca smirked at the woman’s confusion. A hideously cruel smile, a terrible sight to behold on the lips of one so young. And yet it could almost have been called alluring.