What's a prince to do when the man of his dreams doesn't want a crown and his cat-familiar is banned from the palace?His Imperial Highness Faraj al-Nadhir has never thought himself a charming sort of prince. He's shy, round, middle-aged, and always dutiful. But he has also secretly spent years dreaming of a man tending jasmine in a star-lit window — prophetic visions that led him at last to one blissful night with someone who sees his heart, not his crown.He did not expect to wake up with a cat walking on his face.Cat-familiars are forbidden in the Imperial fortress. They might be spies. They might be soul-charmers. They might even sharpen their claws on thousand-year-old tapestries. But Faraj cannot regret that sweet little Sahar chose him — just as he cannot regret Asharan bir Chameli, the enchanting owner of the House of Jasmines. Asharan wants nothing to do with Faraj's title and power, only his kindness. And Faraj hadn't expected either the delights or the dilemmas of Asharan's magical, soft-pawed little gift.The rules have always been different for the God-Emperor's brother. Faraj never before realized how much.Now he's breakfasting from community cauldrons in back alleys full of children and kittens. His foresight shows him a thousand paths toward disaster, but not the way through. His devoted chamberlain fears that Faraj has been bewitched by a purring agent of chaos, and Faraj can't exactly say he's wrong. When the choice comes down to betraying his lover's name, his cat-familiar's life, or his own use of forbidden magic, Faraj does the only thing he can: He gets himself put on trial for heresy, trying to change the laws of the Empire itself.If his visions always lead him into trouble, he might as well make useful trouble.CHAI AND CHARMCRAFT is the first book in a cozy and queer Middle Eastern M/M fantasy trilogy brimming with charm, intrigue, later-in-life romance, body positivity, and so many kittens. Here, nobody needs a magical makeover to be loved exactly as they are — and their night of joy together isn't where the story ends. That's where it begins . . .
