Wanted to get into a book—and ended up in a story? It’s my own fault: if you dream, you have to clarify the details. Otherwise, at the end of the novel you’ll get not the cheerful “happily ever after,” but the posthumous “serves her right!”—or rather, it was me.
No one will tell me: how can I exchange the scaffold prepared by the author for a life-affirming epilogue at a favorable rate?
But the moment I try to change the course of events, the plot gets revenge: it returns everything to the way it was and prevents me from slipping away from one smart, cold, calculating dragon who seems to have started suspecting something.
If I want to live to the end, I should keep far away from this winged hero. Only when he’s around, my heart beats faster and the world around me becomes even more real…