If the way Kalpa Imperial drifts across eras—letting storytellers sketch emperors, dynasties, and cities like constellations—enchanted you, Kay’s The Lions of Al-Rassan gives a similarly grand vista. You’ll move between court chambers and battlefields as Rodrigo Belmonte, Jehane bet Ishak, and Ammar ibn Khairan navigate doomed alliances and fragile loyalties. Like the unnamed Empire’s rulers who rise from obscurity and fall to intrigue, these characters feel the weight of history as kingdoms shift beneath them, delivering that same heady sense of time rolling over people and power.

Loved how Kalpa Imperial uses jewel-like episodes—each tale hinting at the Empire’s past and future? Calvino’s Invisible Cities is a sister in spirit. As Marco Polo describes cities to Kublai Khan, each vignette refracts empire through memory and imagination, much as Kalpa’s storytellers turn a new facet with each ruler or province. You won’t get a single linear chronicle; you’ll get a lattice of moments that, together, feel like standing atop the Empire’s highest tower and seeing every street at once.

If the frame-tale voices in Kalpa Imperial—those storytellers who unspool coups, exiles, and restorations—were your favorite part, you’ll savor how The Empress of Salt and Fortune lets Cleric Chih and the handmaiden Rabbit piece together Empress In-yo’s rise from exile through teacups, slippers, and letters. As in Kalpa’s tales of rulers who remake a dynasty from the margins, the power here hides in testimony and artifacts; the empire’s true history is whispered, not decreed.

If you were drawn to Kalpa Imperial’s palace coups, ministers with long memories, and the way a single ruler can bend an era, meet Maia. After a catastrophic airship accident vaults him to the throne, he must survive a web of titles, protocols, and conspirators. Where Kalpa’s emperors navigate shifting courts and factions, Maia faces assassins, bridge-building scandals, and a cabinet that tests his resolve—delivering the same pleasure of watching power exercised with both caution and grace.

If the sly humor and ironic asides in Kalpa Imperial delighted you—those moments when the storyteller nudges you about the follies of rulers—Brust’s The Phoenix Guards will make you grin. In a flamboyantly mannered voice, it follows Khaavren into the Dragaeran Empire’s guard, skewering pomp and pretension even as duels are fought and honor is defended. Like Kalpa’s playful tales of tyrants and reformers, it wears its satire lightly while reveling in courtly spectacle.