Henry gave him a tight, polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “After you, Mr. Claremont-Diaz.”
Later, as they walked through the hospital’s sterile corridor, the entourage a safe distance behind, Henry spoke quietly. “I’m sorry about the cake.” Red- White Royal Blue
The backdrop was the Royal Wedding of the year. The crime scene: a forgotten linen closet off the main gallery. Henry gave him a tight, polite smile that
“Your Royal Highness,” Alex said, his voice dripping with performative charm. “After you.” Henry gave him a tight