conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "I told my mother I hated her." "I…" What could I do? How could I heal this wound? "The last time I saw my mother, we were fighting…" Her eyes were still dry, but she was obviously crying on the inside. Forgetting all about the difference in our status, I embraced Miss Claire. I didn’t care if I would be punished for disrespect; I was just afraid that if I let go of Miss Claire, I would lose her. Someone… Please help this girl… Please save this delicate soul. I didn’t pray to the God of the Spiritual Church, who had failed to return the Madam to Claire, but I prayed to someone, somewhere, that I didn’t know.
conversations.prefix: Lene:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "Lene, Lene! I met a prince!"
conversations.prefix: Lene:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  My prayers were answered. Miss Claire slowly returned to being her old self, partly because, apparently, she’d met a “prince” at the house of the distant relatives she’d been sent to stay with. I didn’t know the details, but I was relieved to see her excitement.
conversations.prefix: Lene:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "That’s wonderful. What is the name of this fated suitor?" I asked. I would have to thank him for saving the life of the person I now thought of as my own little sister.
conversations.prefix: Lene:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "His name is Manaria! He is wonderful!"
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  I was stunned. Manaria was one of the daughters of the Larnach family—Melia’s family. A woman, not a prince, though she had short hair and was known to be tomboyish.
conversations.prefix: Lene:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  "Oh…is that so? Can you tell me all about Master Manaria?"
conversations.prefix: Lene:
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value:  "Of course! Manaria is slim and has a beautiful face—"
conversations.prefix: Claire:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value:  I didn’t dare correct Miss Claire about Miss Manaria’s gender. She needed something to keep her mind occupied, and I was happy to let the misunderstanding continue if it brought her joy. There are people who will tell you that painkillers don’t address the root cause of pain. For my part, I believe that some wounds can’t wait to be healed. Still, someday ... I prayed from the bottom of my heart that a real prince would appear before Claire. I hoped he would be as wonderful as Manaria and that he would make Miss Claire’s heart race. At the time, I had no idea that Miss Claire’s savior would be not a prince but a strange commoner girl. But that is another story for another time.
conversations.prefix: Lene: