I don’t know how I passed the casting for the role of the MC in the author’s head, but you should know that I didn’t sign up for that! And who would agree to do unpaid extra hours after studying in a derelict forest? To prove that girl-mages are better than boy-mages? To trust the chatty squirrel and the matchmaker leshy? Fine, I’ll admit it—somehow a wizard husband fell on my head one morning, and he’s actually not bad. But that still doesn’t excuse the author!
P.S. Kissing you, hoping for your help. Your MC.
P.P.S. The casting was conducted by devils! The leshy.
P.P.P.S. If you want improper details, bring nuts! The squirrel.