Jasmine is a 19-year-old heiress who lives alone in a Notting Hill mansion and harbours enough childhood trauma to fuel several attempts at taking her own life, the last of which leads her to meet Steven on a hospital ward. He is a working-class Jewish boy who “hasn’t decided” if he’s gay yet, but does know he wants to be a fashion designer with enough money to escape the East End and his violent father.

Jasmine has the kind of privilege that allows her to check in to a five-star hotel in Paris because she fancies a fresh croissant, or buy a South Kensington townhouse on a whim, a lifestyle Steven finds intoxicating and disorientating in equal measure. He is immediately drawn to Jasmine’s innate glamour, and their relationship – though platonic – is laced with the kind of sexual tension and emotional connection usually reserved for the loftiest of romances.

The ambiguity of Jasmine and Steven’s love keeps Royals from succumbing to predictable melodrama, and Emma Forrest paints a vivid picture of 80s London through their madcap adventures that’s a joy to read. For me, the greatest love stories offer as many relatable moments as they do escapist fantasies. And in that respect, Royals is just right.

Romance book review: two modern love stories with a difference