“Everyone is believed to have two faces—one they show to the public and one they wear in private. The first face is their shaxsiat, or their honor. The second face is their ehteram, their dignity. It is a concept practiced more commonly in Odalia but also adopted by the asha-ka in Ankyo. It is important for a person to interact with others in such a way as to enhance their shaxsiat while still maintaining their ehteram—to increase others’ estimation of them while remaining true to one’s self. It is harder than it sounds. Many actions that elevate people’s opinion of you are not necessarily what you truly wish to do. It is a matter of balancing both faces so you can do what is expected of you and at the same time pursue your personal goals.”

“I did not fare very well with my shaxsiat, then,” I said, bitter. Our meal that night was composed of Odalian delicacies: fried rice soaked in saffron and caramel, called tahdig; kabab koobideh, flavored with turmeric and set on sticks hewn from more driftwood; and doogh, a flavored, sour yogurt. I had not seen her prepare the meals, did not think she was capable of cooking them in such a short time.

“You considered your dignity to be greater than what the royal courts demanded of you, and this imbalance is the reason why they cast you out of Drycht. In the same way, I considered my dignity to be more important than the rules and restrictions that clog the traditions of the Willows, and that is why I find myself in the Sea of Skulls, foraging for bones. But would you do it again, given the chance? Would you sacrifice your shaxsiat to retain your ehteram?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

She smiled at me. “Then we are not so different after all.”