Gigi strode back to her room, waiting for Drake to follow. She opened her door and looked at him expectantly. Gigi appreciated what he had said to her sisters. It had been sweet, but he was still on thin ice. In her estimation, he needed to earn her trust again. Still, Gigi knew she hadn't exactly been transparent, and showing up with a black eye wasn’t wasn’t one of her best moves. It wasn’t like she could help it.

Drake slipped into her room, and she curtly closed the door behind him. Gigi motioned for him to take a seat on the bed. He did so.

“Okay, first,” she nodded, “thank you for telling off my awful sisters.”

“Gigi…” She held up her hand to silence him.

“Second, I am still not over you, not lying to my mom for me.” She put her hands on her hips. “Look, I want to tell you what’s happening, but I don’t know if I can trust you. I’ve been doing this longer than I’ve known you.”

“Well, maybe tell me what ‘this’ is, and I can help you do whatever you do?” Drake offered. Gigi shook her head.

“You can’t help with this, Drake. It’s something I have to do on my own. Literally, it’s against the rules.”

“The rules?” He questioned curiously. She cursed herself. She sighed and sat next to him.

“You have to promise not to laugh or freak out,” she said with a severe edge. Drake nodded with a look of concern.

“I promise to do neither,” he said, holding his hand in oath. Gigi eyed him, judging his sincerity. He seemed to mean it.

“Fine,” she shut her eyes and inhaled. “I fight,” she said, opening her eyes and then taking in his reaction. Drake looked puzzled.

“Like with the hunters? Yeah, I know, I’ve met you,” he responded. Gigi smiled despite herself.

“No, not like with the hunters…does the term prizefighting mean anything to you?” she questioned. She could tell from the expression on his face that she had not cleared matters.

“Like a big fight for a prize? Like when armies fight over a bridge?” he put forth. She shook her head.

“It’s a one-on-one fight. Nobody is allowed to help or get involved in any way.” She watched him take in her words. He appeared to be turning them over in his mind.

“Like a duel?” he asked, crossing his arms. Gigi’s eyes went wide with excitement.

“Yes! Exactly, like a duel!” she said, jumping from the bed.

“To the death?” he questioned.

“Well, maybe it’s not exactly like a duel,” she admitted. “It’s until someone quits.”

“Until they yield?”

“Yeah, yield, sure,” she said, shrugging. “I made the asshole who gave me this,” she pointed to her bruised eye, “‘yield’ last night.” Drake’s eyes filled with wonder at her words.

“You win your duels?” he smiled and shook his head. “Of course you do,” he said admiringly.

Gigi was a little taken aback. She was expecting the same reaction everybody gave her when she told them—a lecture on why it was a bad idea and how dangerous it was. The last thing she had dreamed of was that he would actually understand it, even support it. Her heart fluttered along with her ears. Why were her palms getting sweaty?

“You don’t think it’s a bad idea?” she prodded, rubbing her palms on her pants. He shook his head.

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“Why would I think it’s bad? You’re fighting for your honor. What could be more noble?” he asked her seriously. His piercing blue eyes looked into hers as she tried to process what he had just said. Did he just call her noble? She could feel her cheeks heating up like she was out under the summer sun.

Gigi had to admit to herself, certainly not to Drake, that she also fought for the money. It was good money; she could afford to leave Poppy if she managed it properly instead of drinking it away. However, his words struck a chord of truth within her. It wasn’t just the gold; she wanted to prove to the world that she was someone. Even more than that, she tried to prove it to herself.

“I want to be champion,” she blurted out. Drake raised an eyebrow in surprise. His mouth tightened, and he nodded.

“What does that mean to you?” he asked. Now, it was her turn to look surprised.

“Well, it means you’re the best of the best!” she exclaimed, punching the air. “It means that nobody can say you’re not strong! Nobody can say that you don’t matter!” She punched her open palm for emphasis. “Not your horrible sisters or jerks at the tavern. They have to recognize that you’re someone when you’re champion.” She looked expectantly at Drake and found him frowning.

“Is that all you want to be champion for?” he gave her a questioning look.

“What do you mean?” she puzzled.

“I think you have it a little backward,” Drake said nervously.

“Backward?” She didn’t understand.

“Yes, champions are strong, but…they are strong because so many people’s dreams are riding on them. Not for merely being the best, but being the best for a reason. Does that make sense?” He looked at her hopefully.

Gears spun in Gigi’s head as she chewed on what he said. Then, a thought burst from her mind and out of her mouth.

“Are you a champion?!” she asked dumbfounded. Drake demured and shrugged.

“I have been. I don’t know how your champions work, but they don’t last long in the army,” he said, scratching his cheek.

Didn’t last long? What was he talking about? Her ears twitched.

“What do you mean?”

“In war,” Drake clenched his jaw, “sometimes, two men would fight, and it would bind each army to the results. The men selected to duel are the army's champions.” He drew a sharp breath and exhaled as if blowing out a bad memory. “Champions are kind of temporary by nature…I think anyway.”

There were so many questions Gigi wanted to ask the man before her. She didn’t even know where to start. Then one came tumbling down, one she hated, and one she was sure she already knew the answer to.

“You didn’t want to be champion, did you?”

“I didn’t get a choice if that’s what you mean. It’s more that…I don’t know how to put it into words. It’s just a lot to have all that on your shoulders, to understand, win or lose, people will hate you.” His gaze drifted to the floor and away from hers.

“Hey, hey,” she put her hand on his. “Those men you fought for were lucky to have you, Drake.” He looked up and met her eyes. Great sorrow was locked behind their frosty blue.

“You know you matter, right, Gigi?” Drake asked.

“What?” Confusion plastered on her features.

“You said you wanted to be champion to matter. You already matter.”

Gigi suddenly felt very hot. She didn’t know how to respond to such an earnest declaration. She wanted to argue or make a joke of it. It felt wrong to slip into old words somehow. To try and show he was wrong, she was, in fact, nobody. To disagree with him seemed like she would be stepping on a flower or taking a toy away from a child.

“Thank you” were the only words left on her lips as an increasingly red face looked at Drake.

“You’re also strong. I still have a few ribs healing. They agree with me, too.”

“Okay, okay, enough,” she put her hands up in defeat. She had no idea how she had lost control of this conversation. Wasn’t she still supposed to be mad at him? Then, a thought struck her.

“Would you want to go to a fight? See what they are like?” She offered. Drake brightened immediately.

“Really? You trust me?”

She did, but she thought it was better for now if he was vigilant. “More, but you can’t screw this up either.” He nodded. “My friend is fighting tonight. I was going to cheer her on, and you can tag along.”

“Are we going out the window?” Drake grinned. She smiled and nodded.

“Obviously,” she scoffed.