human
Al:  “Phew. Not bad, bro. I see she’s really sweet on you.”
gpt
Subaru:  “If you’re gonna do that, just do a proper whistle. Not that I can whistle with you.”
human
Al:  “Ah, no can do. Lips aren’t intact. I can’t manage a real whistle.”
gpt
Subaru:  “Th-that so. Sorry ’bout that.”
human
Al:  “Well, it’s a pity to keep the young lady waiting like this, and Princess gets annoyed and scary if you make her sit around too long. Better head upstairs, pronto.”
gpt
Subaru:  “Short and sweet. Big help… Incidentally, what’s Priscilla’s mood like today?”
human
Al:  “Mm, I don’t think it’s particularly good or bad, so that means you really can’t go in expecting anything. Princess’s moods can change before, after, or during a conversation, and they can go up, down, left, right, or bounce all around the place. What she likes to talk about isn’t set in stone. You need to be good at ad-libbing to get by.”
gpt
Subaru:  “So a no-prep match… The worst kind for me.” He climbed upstairs, slipped past a dancing hall, and came to a door—an exceedingly ornamented one.
human
Al:  “This is Princess’s way-too-big private room. She never calls me inside, so I’ll wait here while you go ahead.” Ever relaxed, Al sat on the stairs leading up to the door. As he did so, he drew his curved broadsword from his back-of-the-hip sheath and laid it over his lap. “She’s not in that bad a mood, is she?