The Queen of Death

by Joe Abercrombie

Like Forbeck, Abercrombie builds tension through fractured group dynamics where trust is constantly tested—your companions might be working against you, and nobody's truly sure who the villain is. The dragonmark's corrupting influence on Espr finds its parallel in how Abercrombie's characters are slowly compromised by circumstance and ambition, making internal conflict as dangerous as external threats.

by Patrick Rothfuss

Rothfuss shares Forbeck's interest in magic systems with real costs and consequences—here, magic drains the user in ways both obvious and subtle. The mystery of the protagonist's past and his relationship with dangerous forces mirrors the uncertainty surrounding Espr's father and what his true allegiances mean for the group.

by George MacDonald

This is your left-turn recommendation: where Forbeck gives you high-stakes conflict and dragonmark drama, Addison offers something quieter but equally compelling—a protagonist navigating court politics and hidden agendas while trying to figure out who can actually be trusted. It has that same feeling of being surrounded by people with unclear motives, but told with intricate emotional intelligence rather than action.

by R. F. Kuang

Kuang writes about power that consumes its wielder—her protagonist's shamanic abilities grow increasingly dangerous and destabilizing, much like Espr's dragonmark. The novel explores what happens when your greatest strength becomes your greatest liability, and how that power fractures relationships within your own ranks as others fear what you're becoming.

by Scott Lynch

Lynch excels at the kind of group dynamics you saw in The Queen of Death—a tight crew with secrets, conflicting goals, and moments where you genuinely don't know if they'll hold together. The banter masks real danger, and the mystery of who's manipulating whom keeps you guessing, much like the uncertainty around Espr's father's true intentions.