human
Schult:  Schult crossed his stubby arms and nodded distractedly.
gpt
Priscilla:  Priscilla didn’t rush him but waited to find out what his answer would be.
human
Schult:  At length, Schult unfolded his arms, looked at Priscilla, and said, “In that case… In that case, I’ll write the rest of the story myself!”
gpt
Priscilla:  “What?” She raised an eyebrow. This answer, she had never imagined.
human
Schult:  Schult met her response by clenching his small fist with determination. “Lady Priscilla, you said that the story was over. But I’m going to think of what happens next, so that the princess doesn’t have to meet a tragic end!”
gpt
Priscilla:  Priscilla didn’t say anything right away. “Continuing what’s finished, eh? Well, how will it go on? What future will you give to a dead princess, Schult?” Priscilla took in a small breath—and then she closed an eye pensively.
human
Schult:  “Well, uh… Well, first, the princess drank the poison, but she didn’t die from it! She went into a deep, deep sleep, and then later, she wakes up again!”
gpt
Priscilla:  “Hoh. She wakes up, does she? And why is that? The poison was very deadly. Strong enough to kill a person easily.”
human
Schult:  “But the princess and her dog both took half of it! That’s why!”
gpt
Priscilla:  Instead, she simply mussed his pink hair and smiled. “You think of the strangest things, Schult. Rewriting a finished story to suit your own druthers—haughty behavior, don’t you think? Spitting in the face of the one who gave birth to the story in the first place?”
human
Schult:  “Lady Priscilla?” he said. "Er… Um, was I wrong to do that?”
gpt
Priscilla:  “Why would you be wrong? There’s nothing wrong about taking a story you can’t accept and bending it into a shape that suits you. Nothing wrong at all. In fact, I’m impressed.”
human
Priscilla:  “I hope you’ll tell me the rest of the story of the poor princess. Tell me the tale that suits you.”
gpt
Schult:  “—! Y-yes, milady! Well, first, the princess didn’t die from the poison! And then someone very kind helped her…” Schult, his eyes shining now that he had Priscilla’s permission, began weaving the rest of the story.