So fun!! This is a high-drama royal romance that looks silly on the surface but is actually much more carefully constructed than it first appears. The Princess Trap is unapologetically over-the-top and ridiculous, and it feels like a loving nod to the tropes of its setup while still delivering compelling, unique twists.

At first, the book seems like a standard case of an ordinary woman getting swept up into the royal world, but what unfolds throughout the story is a surprisingly interesting exploration of power that is smarter than it suggests.

Now, I'm not going to say this book is doing a deeply philosophical Marxist understanding of capitalism and royal politics, nor is it exploring anti-racism in a powerfully political way. But, by the end of the novel there's a solid throughline that gives the book real structure beneath the fun and horny chaos.

The Princess Trap consistently complicates the power dynamic between Ruben and Cherry. While Ruben has wealth and royal status, his position is unstable because of class and lineage, which feels like a direct critique of the monarchist ideals the royal x commoner fantasy is built upon.

To parallel Ruben, Cherry has less structural power, but has far more self-possession. She is self-assured, knows what she wants, understands how people read and perceive her, and refuses to shrink herself to fit systems that are designed to exclude her.

This makes Cherry an especially effective character as her very existence complicates the romance fantasy tropes that occupy the novel. She takes up so much space that the seams of the fantasy are bursting. In a trope that usually involves a very specific, petite (read: white) form of beauty, Cherry is tall, plus-sized, and outspoken.

She is funny, strategic, and impressively boundaried, and the exploration of her brattiness (both within and without the bedroom) is layered with flirtation, resistance, and self-protection, testing the very limits of the royal fantasy and Ruben's desire for control. Her character alone is the biggest reason why this book works.

With Cherry, the book also does a great job making her Blackness part of the story without it feeling tokenizing. Details like her younger sister's sickle-cell anemia, her experiencing of microaggressions, and her awareness that she does not fit the expected, stereotypical "princess" image all give the story racial texture.

Most importantly, Cherry is never written as desirable despite being tall, plus-sized, and Black, but because of it. She is desirable as her full self, and the fantasy has to expand around her rather than minimizing her to fit it within its mold.

All of the more ridiculous elements of the story just work because of the container Hibbert has given them. The insta-lust reveals the characters' motivations and sets up their arcs, the fake marriage is given class reasoning that helps it feel grounded in reality while still being satisfyingly dramatic. Everything just makes sense, because Hibbert has carefully structured the story around power and subverting our expectations.

For this purpose, I also really appreciated the inclusion of mild kink dynamics, which felt like they fit right in with the larger thematic throughline. Hibbert carefully distinguishes between power as intimacy and power as domination, especially when the third act rolls around and new characters get introduced.

With Cherry and Ruben, power is always chosen, communicated, and negotiated (even with an on-page consent discussion which I so loved!) while Ruben is careful not to take agency from Cherry as it is the thing she cherishes the most.

The romance works because Cherry and Ruben do not fix each other, but support each other's already existing strengths. Cherry models a refusal to shrink to Ruben who has spent his life trying to force himself into a mold, while Ruben gives Cherry safety and steadiness without trying to own her. Their relationship becomes a safe space for power to be negotiated instead of seized.

That being said, this book is not perfect. While Cherry's character is meaningful, the character arcs really center Ruben. Cherry is vivid and compelling, but Ruben gets the heavier plot and exploration, while Cherry's arc is much quieter.

This is not necessarily a bad thing, but makes her character read as underdeveloped. Not every character needs a dramatic, trauma-laden backstory, but I do think Cherry deserved a little more attention to make her feel more three-dimensional.

Additionally, Ruben's bisexuality is complicated and also feels underdeveloped. It is real representation, and Ruben is definitively queer, but The Princess Trap is not really queer in structure.

It is mostly a cisheteronormative royal romance with a bisexual hero. It counts, and Ruben's bisexuality feeling underdeveloped does not mean it's worthless, but the book could have given that part of his identity more texture beyond just trauma.

Overall, The Princess Trap is a fun romp with some interesting genre twists that turn out to be surprisingly thoughtful. It's dramatic and tropey, but the tropes feel like they serve real purpose rather than being plot devices or easy ways to bypass real development. It's an exploration of a relationship built within and around power, and two people learning how to be seen without being made smaller.

Minor audiobook info: The audiobook was such a complicated experience. It worked so well when selling the fantasy of the royal storybook retelling, like someone was reading Ruben and Cherry's story to us at bedtime. But the narrator forced himself into these unfunny Danish accents for the royal characters, which especially made the sex scenes slightly (moderately? severely?) uncomfortable. I would have enjoyed this more without the audiobook, I think.