She does

You fight of the desire to nervously pace the ring. Even Paisley's placid face is a little strained. The announcer's ready.

"Lords & ladies, with another exemplary display of grappling greatness & erotic expertise, please applaud... your winner... PAISLEY THE PRINCESS OF INK!"

She deftly bends over at the waist & bows deeply. The crowd explodes in cheers, for the display of victory & the display of soft super assets. Meanwhile, you can only lower your head. All your aches & pains just doubled. You can't even leave the ring without looking like a sulking brat. The only alright thing right now is her highness bubbling around the ring in glee. That kind of positivity is contagious. She intrudes on your brooding by standing before your, domineeringly. Her face is proud but almost smug.

Well, say something.

"Congratulations your majesty, bravo."

Paisley doesn't respond. She only places her hand out, expecting a deferential kiss. You take a knee & oblige.

"Thank you sir. You were a capable foe."

"Cheers."

By the time your raise your submissive head, the official is opening the ropes for the princess who makes her way up the ramp buoyed by her victory.

Hoity fucking thing. Heh, I guess she earned it.