“Tonight, you are facing my son in the ring. While he is a most capable fighter, and surely will pose quite a challenge to you. It mmm, would be a great boon to our house if we could guarantee his success.”
She glanced sidelong at the man who spoke.
“I understand it’s the championship, and you’re defending your title but…” he raised his eyebrows at her, as his left hand moved to a coin pouch.
“You want me to throw the fight?” She looked past the nobleman at the bookie Ivan. He grinned.
“Don’t worry Locke, you’ll be paid plenty.”
“Plenty?”
“Four times the amount to be exact.” Sir Devon whispered near her ear.
“That’s a lot of money…” She said as she folded her hands in front of her, the hand covered by the other tensed up into a fist.
“It is. Do we have an understanding, Miss Galston?”
She didn’t have a chance to answer, the crowd outside the room suddenly exploded in a roar of cheers as the announcer called her name.
“We will leave you to it.” Sir Devon withdrew from the room, his guards trailed after him.
“This is bullshit, Ivan.”
“Come now, Locke, you need the coin.”
She snorted as she made her way out from the room. The sea of people parted to make way for their champion, hands reached out to touch her as they cheered: “LOCKE! LOCKE! LOCKE!”

She was Locke Galston, first daughter of Black Galston. Undefeated champion of the Cerulean Pit on the Isle of Maelström, undefeated champion of the Blood Hills on the Dead Isles, and reigning Champion of Agos.

She had never once thrown a fight, but as it stood… she was in grave debt.