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    Summary

    It had been years since Henry resigned himself to the fact that he was never going to have a love story like his mother’s. Never going to have a love story, period. He was, after all, rather unloveable – not necessarily by any fault of his own, though it felt like it most days, but by virtue of his birth, of his position. Of the fact that he’d known since he was seven years old, watching Disney movies at Bea’s behest in their quarters at Kensington, that he was more interested in Prince Eric than Ariel.

    Love, Henry Fox discovers well past the age of seven, is not hopelessly out of reach. It is also not something that will happen to him, be gifted to him, be spun into a fairytale before his eyes. Love is a series of impossible choices, and he will make all of them if it means that he gets to wake up the next morning smelling cinnamon and sandalwood and Santal 33. 

    Language:
    English
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