A door with a golden exterior and stylized nameplate.

Lady Grace.

You had heard rumors about the notorious self-professed queen of the ECL, so seeing her “out-of-character” so to speak will be a good way to distinguish the fact from the fiction.

Rapping your knuckles against the golden surface softly, you take a step back and wait patiently.

“Enter!” someone from inside drawls out in an unmistakably English accent.

You promptly open the door only to come face to face with a man nearly the size of the doorway itself.

Towering above you, the man wears an expensive-looking suit that barely hides his physically imposing, almost Herculean physique.

With his blonde hair slicked back, he shoots you a threatening glare before stepping aside to reveal the queen in her “throne room.”

Sufficiently intimidated, you brush past him and take in her locker room.

Framed photographs of her many in-ring conquests adorns the walls, each one capturing her victorious smile as she posed over her defeated opponents.

A set of plush furniture decorates the floor, facing a giant widescreen TV currently replaying some of her most dominating matches in the ECL.

Then, your eyes fall upon Lady Grace herself, reclining leisurely on an exotic-looking couch.

Even sans makeup, her aristocratic features are still striking, with a defined jawline and emerald eyes sharp enough to cut through glass. Her raven black locks cascades down her shoulders in straightened out curls, contrasting her otherwise pearly white skin.

Neck down, she sports a voluptuous, hourglass figure that would make most models, much less fellow ECL fighters, envious.

For the moment, she is dressed in a skimpy yet decorative robe that stretches to her hips, with her shapely legs seemingly going on for miles.

As your eyes continued to shamelessly trail down her lower body, you notice that she is currently in the process of giving herself a pedicure.

Her unpainted toes wriggle anxiously as she hovers above them with a vial of nail polish, her concentration finally broken by your blatant ogling.

“I don’t have all day, love,” she finally says impatiently.

Having lingered on her bare feet a little longer than intended, Lady Grace's snide words finally bring you back to reality.

Still slightly in awe, you extend your hand towards her in greeting. “I heard a lot about you, and as a new fighter here in the League I wanted to meet the legend herself. My name’s John!”

Lady Grace sizes you up for only a minute, before a dismissive sneer crosses her striking features.

“If you’re a fighter then this league really has dropped its standards considerably,” she smirks condescendingly.

“You should see me in action then,” you answer back confidently, undaunted by her arrogance.

“Darling, I’m looking at you now and well, I don’t see much,” she replies coolly, her eyes then returning back to her pedicure.

“Maybe I can change your mind.” Your words are promptly ignored as she begins painting her big toe.

With her back to you, you start to speak again only to come to a quick realization: anything you say now is meaningless to her unless you can prove it in the ring. Preferably facing her.

“Anyways, I was just meeting my new colleagues before the show and wanted to introduce myself formally. I look forward to working with you in the ring,” you finally say diplomatically, forcing a smile.

“Colleagues? How charming!” she laughs, before chiding you patronizingly, “Love, I don’t work with people like you. People like you work for me.”

“Isn’t that right, Matthew?” she adds with a knowing grin, her smug expression now directed towards the stoic man who merely nods in affirmation.

“Now, is that all you had to say to me, John?” she purrs, uttering your name in a teasing manner.

“For now,” you answered curtly, turning on your heel and starting to exit the locker room.

Before you can do so, she suddenly holds up her hand. “Oh and by the way….”

With one hand on the door handle, you look over your shoulder as she sits up to address you directly.

“I did watch your match with the other recruit, Melody, I believe. You have potential, darling, but potential will not get you far here unless you know how to properly use it.”

Leaning towards you so that her cleavage was now fully visible against the thin fabric, Lady Grace flashes you a seductive grin. “If you think you can handle a real woman in that ring, find me.”

Nodding, you leave her locker room.