human
Butler:  Age gaps were hardly unusual in marriages among nobles, and loveless unions were practically de rigueur as a way of solidifying connections between houses. But for a man of more than fifty to welcome a bride of twelve—even this long-serving butler found himself taken aback. Not least because this particular wife seemed to offer no advantages at all. At the same time, Jorah’s basic decency was beyond doubt. He possessed that rarest of things among the empire’s elite—kindness—and it was more than enough to inspire unflinching loyalty in the butler. That loyalty moved him to try to help the young woman in every way he could, knowing she would be quite overwhelmed by her new environment. Yes, the butler welcomed his master’s young spouse with his own firm resolve. That resolve had quickly crumbled in the face of the woman herself. Yes, the girl was twelve years old. Yes, she’d come to Jorah’s mansion young and with no household of her own. But she was arrestingly beautiful, and her soul burned more intensely than any fire. Priscilla. That was the name of the forceful young woman who had appeared in this home like a conqueror. Priscilla Pendleton.
gpt
Priscilla:  "Not bad." The girl said, her voice emanating from her pale throat in a way that seemed to penetrate deep into the listener’s brain. It took the butler a moment to realize this was her appraisal of the tea. The reason for his belated understanding was simple: the girl’s face. Nothing in particular had happened or changed—she was simply so beautiful that he had been captivated; it had felt as if time had stopped. And when time resumed flowing, and the butler realized she had spoken words of praise, he shivered. This girl, whose age didn’t amount to one half of one half of his own years, made his blood seem to run faster with her compliment; a feeling of paralysis gripped his very soul. Being a butler at all was like a gift from the heavens to these old bones. It was only natural, perhaps, that such a person should bow before a girl like this, someone who was obviously a born ruler. For to serve someone meant to be dominated by someone.
human
Priscilla:  "Withdraw. I wish to speak with my husband."
gpt
Butler:  "Yes, ma’am." Without a second thought, the butler bowed and backed out of the room. He wondered if she might not take just one more sip of the tea as he was leaving. He wondered if the youthful conqueror wouldn’t mind putting that seal of approval on his work. The hope almost physically burned in the old butler as he silently left the room.