human
Tinasha:  The black spike faded away to reveal fresh blood gushing from the finger-width wound it had left. Tinasha gave a shaky breath and sat back up, eyeing with a cold gaze the blood streaming into her lap.
gpt
Bardalos:  “Tell me you’ll be mine. I can understand you.”
human
Tinasha:  “I have never once wished for someone to understand me.” Tinasha answered, smiling and shrugging.
gpt
Bardalos:  Her grin made Bardalos uncomfortable, and he glanced at the clock. “What’s going on?” he muttered. No fire had started. It was past time, but that couldn’t be. He had checked the spell repeatedly while casting it.
human
Narrator:  Bardalos heard the queen giggle—an exceedingly unpleasant sound to him.
gpt
Bardalos:  Flicking his gaze to her, he saw blood running from her stomach, pooling on the floor of the dark room. “What did you do?” he demanded.
human
Tinasha:  “I haven’t done anything.”
gpt
Bardalos:  “Then why are you laughing?”
human
Tinasha:  “Sorry… I was just considering the best way to kill you, and it slipped out.”
gpt
Bardalos:  “You think I’m going to die?” Bardalos snarled, his expression tight as he threw out a hand to claw at her throat. He would cast a spell to forcibly show her who was in charge in this situation. Before he could, however, a man called from behind:
human
Oscar:  “What do you think you’re doing?” The impact came as he spoke. Bardalos couldn’t get a word out; his world had suddenly gone dark. He couldn’t see a thing. By the time he finally realized his chair had been yanked from under him and he was pressed with his face to the floor, a sharp pain was cut through his right leg. Bardalos’s mind went blank and he screamed.
gpt
Bardalos:  “AAAAAHHHH!”
human
Oscar:  “I asked you what you think you’re doing. You’d better answer quick, if you want to keep your leg.” instructed a masculine voice seething with fury. Bearing the pain as best he could, Bardalos attempted to cast, but his magic refused to take shape. It wasn’t that he couldn’t concentrate—the power was dispersing as he called it. With his heel firmly planted on Bardalos and the royal sword stabbed into the mage’s leg, Oscar looked at his fiancée, tutted irritably, and snapped,
gpt
Oscar:  “What are you waiting for? Heal your wounds.” It was over too soon.