![]() ![]() Now, I am not an avid reader of either romance or erotica so I have limited material with which to compare this, but there is an awful lot of sex between these characters, both oral and anal, but the descriptions are… coy. The sex is somehow simultaneously explicit and evasive. And on New Year’s Eve, Henry kisses Alex in the White House.įrom that point, with a few chapters of slightly self conscious soul searching, the relationship grows.Īnd becomes sexual. And finally mobile numbers are exchanged. Over the weekend, we are treated to glimpses of true compassion beneath that cliched British reserve bickering over favourite Star Wars films a lock down in a hospital. To manage the situation, the White House and Palace conspire to solidify a friendship between the two by an enforced and curated stay over at the Palace. It comes crashing down onto the floor in an avalanche of white buttercream, some kind of sugary $75,000 nightmare. There’s absolutely nothing he can do to stop it. He watches, as if in slow motion, as the cake leans, teeters, shudders, and finally tips. He notices too late that the table is, to his horror, the one bearing the massive eight-tier wedding cake, and he grabs for Henry’s arm to catch himself, but all it does is throw both of them off-balance and send them crashing together into the cake stand. The next thing he knows, he is tripping over his own foot and stumbling backward into the table nearest him. One convenient plot device later – which has the subtlety of an episode of Friends – and Alex and Henry’s rivalry creates a diplomatic incident involving a minor physical altercation and They already know Henry in a diplomatic capacity and Alex insists that he despises all that Henry stands for. The trio seem to delight in creating gossip and rumour about their love lives, treating it as a game, whilst simultaneously feeling a little adrift and superfluous. The scenario is set up thus: in 2016 at the close of his mother’s first term as President, Alex and his sister June and their best friend Nora, grand-daughter of the Vice President, are the glittering photogenic darlings of the world media, loved and photographed and pursued. I was far more invested in the characters of Alex Claremont-Diaz and Henry, Prince of Wales – and the relationship between them – than I would ever have expected. It turns out that the answer to both those questions is yes. Could a transatlantic love affair between two pampered, highly privileged teenagers hold the attention of a jaded tired Brit, weaned on socialist rhetoric? Could that same Brit look beyond the slightly cliched and stereotypical portrayal of the United Kingdom?
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