Different. Robena has had no shortage of admiring looks the world over. Strength and prowess are eminently easy for people to comprehend and her to demonstrate. She has had knights throw their blades at her feet and beg for mercy, children throw themselves at her feet and beg to be her squire, and maidens throw themselves at her feet and just plain beg. Admiration is almost a natural state of being.

She finds it troublesome now. She is not attempting to demonstrate her skill, she is attempting to rediscover a morality that slipped through her fingers like Syrian sands. How is she meant to tell if she is doing correctly if simple strength wins her acclaim and morality wins her none? But then, she thinks, perhaps that is simply the way of things. Nobody who was ever renowned for being just was not first mighty. Perhaps the answer for her is not in fame against humility, but fame against infamy? 

It is deep in such thoughts that she returns to the castle, once more locked in the silent tower of her mind.