Honestly, I think the tendency to frame this as 'overcoming' betrayal is a bit reductive. The best gladiator stories aren't about bouncing back stronger from a single act of treachery; they're about a fundamental erosion of trust that forces a complete recalibration of how the world works. The arena is already a system built on betrayal—owners, trainers, even fellow fighters can turn on you for coin or survival. A great example is the dynamic in something like 'The First Law' trilogy, though that's not strictly gladiators. The point is, the betrayal isn't a hurdle to leap over, it's the removal of the ground beneath your feet.
She doesn't 'overcome' it by forgiving or forgetting. She internalizes it as the new operating system. Every alliance becomes temporary, every kindness is scrutinized for the debt it might incur. Her victory comes when she stops expecting loyalty and starts mastering the transactional, brutal calculus of the pit. The triumph isn't in trusting again, it's in becoming so strategically indispensable, so lethally unpredictable, that betrayal becomes a losing proposition for anyone considering it. Her shield arm is always up, even when sharing a waterskin.